Hey lovelies,
Tonight's post is a bit of a heartfelt one. It's on something very close to my heart. Some of you may know, that on the 29th of July 2019, just 4 days after my graduation, my mum was rushed to hospital after searing pain in her head made her fall to the floor of the bathroom. After several hours of tests and scans, we learnt that she had experienced something called a subarachnoid haemorrhage after 1 of 3 aneurysms in her brain had ruptured.
Luckily, she had life-saving surgery at Oxford's John Radcliffe hospital the following morning and so has recovered from the haemorrhage, but that day was definitely life-changing for us all.
According to the NHS website, a subarachnoid haemorrhage is 'an uncommon type of stroke caused by bleeding on the surface of the brain. It's a very serious condition and can be fatal... About 3 in 5 people who have a subarachnoid haemorrhage die within 2 weeks. Half of those who survive are left with severe brain damage and disability.'
We are aware that she was very, very lucky, and I am so grateful to all the NHS staff that cared for her - particularly the paramedics and the surgeons.
The doctors still aren't really sure what caused the brain aneurysms, as they are usually found after blunt trauma to the head. However, The two operations that she has had in total have managed to stop the bleed in her brain, however, they have since found another aneurysm that was too small to operate on, and suggested that she may have small brain aneurysms for the rest of her life.
That day, and the following weeks while she was recovering in hospital, was honestly the most difficult and stressful time of my life, but it also taught me some important life lessons. Here are 3 things that my mum's brain haemorrhage taught me.
#1: How utterly and completely lost I would be without my mum.
I think as you grow up you truly realise just how special the bond between yourself and your mum is, especially (in my opinion) for girls and young women.
My mum is my best friend. She has done absolutely everything for me since my birth. She is one of my favourite people to talk to, and despite our occasional arguments, she is the first person I want to tell any news to. She's been my shoulder to cry on for 23 years, and she's helped me get through some really tough times when I didn't think I had anyone else.
She is the most remarkable woman I know, and I would be indescribably lost without her. I thank my lucky stars every single day that the surgeons were able to operate successfully, and that she had no lasting symptoms from the bleed or the surgery.
#2: How important family is.
It isn't until you almost lose someone in your immediate family that you realise just how important family is. Despite all the rows and silly arguments, they are (usually) the only people that you know will always have your back for as long as they can.
I really believe that I didn't appreciate my family as much as I could, and I sometimes still don't, but since that day I think I have definitely learnt to be more appreciative of my family unit, and I feel incredibly lucky to have everyone around me.
#3: Not to take things for granted
In your early 20s, losing your mum is not really something you feel the need to think about, especially if there has been no previous diagnosis of an illness. You kind of take your family for granted. Believe that it's OK because they'll 'always be there'. Which, for most parents, is true until they can be there no more.
I really don't think I ever realised just how much my mum did for me and the family on a daily basis until I was kind of forced to take over the role while she was recovering in hospital. Seriously, I don't know how she fits it all in, there are NOT enough hours in the day. Taking the dogs out twice, making lunches, cooking dinner, cleaning, washing, looking after my sister and making sure that my granddad was OK, all while making sure I still had the time to travel to Oxford and back every day to visit mum in hospital.
Seriously, I don't think I did half of what my mum does all the time, and I only did it for a few weeks before she felt stable enough to do it herself and I could go back to work. But let me tell you, I'd take a full working day over that any day. It really made me appreciate what she does for the family all the time. She really is a Superwoman.
Luckily, in the 12 months since the last operation, things have pretty much gone back to normal. My mum can still do all the things she could do before the haemorrhage and it hasn't really affected her daily life much. She still sometimes gets headaches, and they are always a worry, but she knows the pain scale and she knows whether it is bad enough to call an ambulance again.
This post wasn't to generate sympathy or to cause anyone sadness, but I thought that with Mother's Day coming up it would be important to reflect on how much my mum means to me and how lost I would be without her. I love you so much, Mum.
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