I thought I had the flu.
I was a young mum at the time, living with my parents after splitting up from my boyfriend. I simply didn’t have time to be ill but I couldn’t seem to shake it, so I went to my GP, who put it down to stress.
But my “flu” got worse and worse and I noticed I was starting to lose my mobility. I remember heading to the hospital, kissing my son goodbye and thinking I’d be back that evening after a checkup. But, in a matter of five days, I went from flu-like symptoms to being on a life support machine.
Initially, they had no idea what was wrong with me. Meningitis was one of the possibilities. Doctors then diagnosed me with Guillain-Barré syndrome, a rare disorder that attacks the nervous system.
It paralysed me from head to toe. I was unable to breathe, I couldn’t talk and I remained that way for months. But I was still aware of everything going on around me – I just couldn’t communicate with anyone. Also, whenever anyone touched me, all I could feel was this incredible pain. So say somebody touched my foot, the pain would be so bad I would want to scream – except, of course, I couldn’t.
We did figure out a way for me to communicate through my eyes, when I was able to blink. They would show me letters and I would blink when they pointed at the one I wanted. The first thing I asked was: “How is my boy?” He had not visited because I didn’t want him to see his mother in that state. I worried he would have been too distressed with all the wires and tubes. In the end, I didn’t see him for almost a year. That was harder than the pain I endured trying to regain my independence.
At times it was touch and go. There were points my parents weren’t sure I’d make it. But, after doctors did a plasma exchange, I began to recover. It was far from easy.
Over the course of a year, I had to learn to walk, talk, write and eat again. At one point, doctors weren’t 100% sure I would walk, but I was determined to prove them wrong. I had gone from a young woman in her 20s to someone who at one point couldn’t even breathe for themselves. I was determined to do anything and everything I could to regain my independence.
After a very long year, I did leave that hospital, albeit using a walking frame, but that was enough for me. I gave myself about six months to properly get back on my feet and decided to start training to become a nurse. In a way, I was inspired by my ordeal – I was told the syndrome came about possibly through a urine infection and I wanted to know how and why that happened.
Ten years on from my experience, I’ve been promoted for secondment in a more senior post and have done an MSc in public health. The boyfriend I had split up with is now my husband and we’ve had a second child together. It’s strange to think it, but I suppose we wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t become ill.
But I most certainly would not be here without the NHS and its care. Nor would I be the nurse I am today. Sometimes patients will tell me: “You don’t understand how I feel, you’re young and healthy.”
I simply smile and say: “Well, let me tell you …”
