I arranged for a friend to take me to the hospital to see John as soon as I had arrived back in Mallorca. I raced from the airport back to our house to drop the children off and then we left. Visiting in intensive care was restricted to 1 hour in the afternoon and 1 hour in the evening. You could not speak to a Doctor in the evening only during afternoon visiting, but since I had not been in the country they agreed to meet with me during the evening visit.

My heart was racing, I was in total turmoil and barely remember the drive. I knew that he was going to be hooked up to a lot of machines and unable to hear me or speak to me but I so badly needed to see him. I needed to hold his hand, to talk to him, just to see that he was still here. I was only managing to hold myself together for the children and even then it was a battle that I often lost.

When we arrived we had to sit in the waiting room until 7pm when they unlocked the divding door and called names from list. When John’s name was called I had to go and put on a gown, gloves, hair net and shoe covers before going into ICU and into the bay where he was. Only one person was allowed to visit at a time so I had to go on my own.

Walking into that little room and seeing him lying there was one of the worst things that I have ever had to do. He was still my John but he had a breathing tube in his mouth and had several lines going into him with various different medications. I held his hand and he couldn’t hold it back, I found that difficult, I was just holding a limp hand, talking to someone who I didn’t think could hear me, stroking his hair telling him that I was with him, that I would always be with him and that everything would be ok.

When the doctor arrived he told me that John had a very bad infection which they thought had started with a diabetic ulcer on his foot. There were significant infection markers in his blood and this infection had gotten into his heart causing endocarditis. Eventually a portion of one of the infected valves of his heart had broken off and travelled to his brain causing a stroke. He was on strong antibiotics and they were controlling his blood sugar which had been erratic due to the infection, stroke and just the shock that his body had been through. He would need a toe amputated and eventually when he was strong enough the valve in his heart repaired. All of this on top of the fact that he had had a stroke and was unable to move the left hand side of his body. He was stable but in a very serious and complicated condition.

When the doctor left the tears came and I just stood there holding his hand. A nurse came in and started calling his name and shaking his hand. He suddenly opened his eyes! The nurse explained that he was not heavily sedated so could wake up a little, he could only blink because of the breathing tube in his mouth. I was estatic!

“Can you hear me?” I said. He blinked.

“Do you know who I am?” He blinked.

“Do you know where you are?” He blinked.

I asked him to squeezed my hand which he did. Then it was time for me to go. I told him that I loved him and that I would be back tomorrow.

I was so happy! I convinced myself that he would be fine, he was awake so he must be ok…………surely?