My Weight Loss Journey

The operation...

We were to spend another 3 weeks visiting Tony in the clinic before he could finally be operated on. It had taken some time for the Doctor to discover that the fever was from Pneumonia and he had to ensure Tony’s lungs were clear before he was given an anaesthetic.
I realised that had he been operated on in Malaga with pneumonia he would have been at even more risk of dying during the surgery.

We had booked into a hotel near to the hospital and every day we would visit Tony in the immaculate intensive care unit, which was at the far end of the corridor, where we were asked to gown up and put on shoe covers before we entered. This became a daily ritual and every time we started the long walk along the corridor my heart raced and I wondered how I would find him. The sweet little nurses tried hard to communicate with us and I would nod at them before we went in or shake my head to see how he was doing.

It's strange that I have never forgotten that walk along the corridor, the fear inside of me never abated, would he be alive, would he recognise me, had his condition worsened or improved. The uncertainty was draining us all, we couldn’t even talk to each other on visits the emotions were running high and it was always Rob that was the positive one, he used to say to Katie and I ‘dad will be fine today, you wait and see’ bless him he was constantly trying to keep up our spirits.

During those weeks Tony’s family flew to Zaragoza, and his sister stayed with us for a while. It was a harrowing time because we were only allowed to visit at certain times and we never knew how he would be or whether he had suffered a setback or another bleed. He was kept very still and the nurses were angels. Unfortunately, apart from Dr. Calatyud nobody in the hospital spoke English, on fact nobody in Zaragoza spoke English. On the Costa Del Sol, most people spoke English as there were so many British Ex-Pats living there, so we were spoilt.

Tony would scribble little pictures to the nurses if he was thirsty or for other reasons and bless them they tried hard to learn the language even buying translation books. Katie was learning fast how to understand Spanish and she was our translator.

I kept in constant contact with Ana my beautiful new friend who had stood by me with Patrice her husband from day one, often asking her in the early hours of the morning questions that were worrying me and making sleep impossible.

Ana, I learned much later, was also suffering from emotions throughout this whole thing, she was totally traumatised and worried for me and the children, she was speaking to Dr. Calatyud in their mother tongue for hours and translating whenever he wasn’t able to explain clearly about Tony’s condition. Later Ana & I were to realise that we were meant to meet as we shared so many feelings and emotions. I will never forget how these dear friends helped me in my time of need.

Zaragoza is a beautiful city but only if you are a tourist and are there to enjoy the sites. Apart from the language barrier, we struggled to find restaurants where they served food that we were used to. We finally found an Italian style restaurant offering pasta dishes and we finished up going there most nights. Katie & I tend to eat when we are stressed and when we weren’t eating meals we were buying unhealthy sweets and chocolates to eat in between meals, Katie filled a carrier bag with them and carried that bag everywhere with biscuits for Tony and other favourite food she thought he may like.

During the long hours when we couldn’t visit Tony in the hospital we tried to keep occupied, I would take long walks and then write a diary when I was in my room alone. 

Katie’s boyfriend Paul had come for a short time at her request to support her, but it was a new relationship and it put a strain on them both because of the constant worry. Rob would always try and cheer us all up, with his wonderful sense of humour he would often make us laugh, and he would occasionally have to placate Katie & I when the stress caused us to fight with each other. We were sometimes unable to control our emotions, and it would then turn into anger. We both knew that we didn’t mean to hurt each other and it would always end in tears with us hugging and saying sorry. The strain was getting us both down and we knew it, it was a waiting game and we had to be patient.

I was still recovering from my surgery, after having major surgery I was supposed to be resting and recovering, I was in pain a lot of the time and the healing process was taking longer due to the stress, but my mind was on Tony and his condition so it kept me from thinking of myself.

I also spent hours trying to deal with the insurance company, unfortunately, they added to the stress by fighting with me over paying the bills. I was frightened that we wouldn’t be able to afford the treatment, they had said I should not have moved Tony and should have left him in Malaga with the planned surgery, I tried to make them understand the situation and finally, they agreed to pay for the surgery, but at that point, we were still arguing over the accommodation costs.

My friends and family back in the UK and in Spain were a tremendous support to us all. We kept in constant contact and they would help me through difficult days when I was losing hope, by being positive and encouraging me to be positive too. I had days when I was convinced he would get through all of this but there were dark days when in my heart I knew I would never have the Tony back that I knew & loved.

When you are facing someone with a brain trauma it is very different from a physical illness that you can often help with by offering sympathy and medication. A brain injury is often so complex that you are not able to help the patient because most of us do not understand what injury the brain has suffered.

As an eternal optimist, I was trying hard to pretend to myself that whatever had happened to Tony’s brain, it would heal and he would back to normal once the surgeon had performed the operation, after all that is what was happening to me, even though I had major surgery to my womb I was beginning to heal and I would eventually be back to normal, this unfortunately is not the case with brain trauma, and I have had to learn this over the years.

After approx. 2 weeks in the intensive care unit of the Clinica Maz hospital in Zaragoza it was finally time for Tony to have his surgery. His pneumonia had healed and his lungs were stable enough for an anaesthetic. We were all cautiously relieved that Dr. Catalyud would finally be able to operate on his brain.

The operation was scheduled and family and friends flew in to support us during the procedure.

We were told to expect approx. 3-4 hours of surgery, so we gathered in the hotel, Tony’s brother Ricky, his sister Lys, Katie Rob and my neighbours began the long wait for the surgery to take place. We had seen Tony before he went down, his head had been shaved and when I saw him I had a terrible fright, but I assured him it was just a small operation to correct the problem that had occurred and he eventually accepted it.

I cannot ever explain the fear and the worry that was inside of me during the long hours, which turned into 9 hours of surgery. I was convinced something terrible had happened, especially after we had been told to expect 3-4 hours, I was inconsolable and nobody could convince me otherwise.

Finally, we heard that we could go to the theatre and wait outside to see Dr. Calatyud. We ran and with the help of our neighbours and we were able to stand at the theatre doors to wait for him to emerge.

I will never forget the site of this little man walking towards us dressed in his green ‘scrubs’ and saying to me ‘2’.... 

OMG! I thought had he found 2 aneurysms? But no…he was asking for 2 kisses on his cheeks to celebrate that Tony had come through the surgery well.

We then saw him being wheeled through the door heavily bandaged but peacefully asleep. I remember thinking this would never have been allowed in the UK, to stand outside of the theatre waiting to see the doctor, the gratitude I felt at that time to the Spanish friends and Dr. Calatyud was indescribable.

The long road to recovery.....

Tony was taken to a recovery unit while we all celebrated with the champagne that was waiting for us bought by Lys & Ricky. I was elated phoning family and friends all over the world telling them that it was finally over and Tony had come through the long surgery. Unfortunately, Katie was not as ecstatic as I was, and I was later to find out that she had read too much about the after effects that could occur after brain surgery. She worried that Tony wouldn't know us, or be able to talk or walk, but she kept this from me and I was unaware that she wasn’t celebrating with us at that point.

We were told that Tony must rest as much as possible during the following day that ensued, but Dr. Calatyud explained he must eventually waken and be conscious so that he could check all his vital statistics. This was due to happen on one morning several days later when we were visiting him, and we tried to wake him up. Several attempts were made to get him to react and to wake but he resisted. It was almost like he was in a coma, I was terrified.

Finally, during that visit Dr. Calatyud was called because the nursing staff and his nephew, who was assisting him were were suitably concerned that they could not get a reaction from Tony. It was yet another setback which I was getting used to. The little surgeon arrived to see Tony in a deep slumber and then proceeded to pinch him in the groin and the neck in the 2 spots which he knew would bother him enough to wake up. Tony shot up in bed swearing at the surgeon for hurting him…it had worked, Tony was awake!!

It was now time for the healing process to start before we could arrange for his transport back home to the UK. Rob had taken a lot of time off from his job in PR and he was being asked to return. We knew he would have to leave and tearfully we took him to the airport and we all hugged and cried while he boarded the plane back to the UK.

Katie & I helped each through the following days, Katie was unbelievable with her dad, she would spend hours massaging his legs and feet making sure that his muscles didn't get too weak. We were only able to visit him at certain times and during the long empty hours in between we did what we always do when we are stressed, we ate!

Finally, it was time for Tony to fly home. I had contacted the insurance company to see if they would cover the cost of the journey, we needed to fly him in another private plane equipped with some of the same medical devices that had been in the plane from Malaga. They refused to pay for this, insisting that he was well enough to be driven by ambulance to the nearest airport that would fly direct to London, this would have taken hours. They were then only prepared to pay for a commercial flight which would have been full of tourists. This was not an option!

Fortunately, I had close friends who could help me arrange a private plane, I knew we would have to cover the cost of this but didn't care at this point, I was not going to compromise Tony's recover after all we had been through.
I asked Dr. Calatyud if he would accompany us on the journey and then we would turn the plane around for him to return to his hospital. He agreed which was a huge relief for me. I don't think I could have handled any kind of relapse from Tony on my own, and on a flight.
Katie flew home on a commercial flight, and we arranged to meet at the London hospital that Tony would be transferred to on his arrival back to Luton Airport.

Thank goodness Tony made the flight and I bade a fond farewell with many tears to Dr. Calatyud and waved him off on the plane back to Zaragoza.
We had a waiting ambulance at the airport and Tony was made comfortable for the journey back to the Wellington Hospital in North West London to be under the care of another neuro-surgeon who Dr. Calatyud had been in touch with.

When Tony & I recall this traumatic time in his life he has no memory of anything except that ride from Luton Airport to the Wellington Hospital.

See you next blog......