So after the anaesthetic i was clearly knocked out and you think. Do I wake up or do I die. Happily i remember nothing. Due to the operation i was on a lot of pain killers including morphine. Hundreds of tablets. I had tubes everywhere and 6 chest drains. So with operation on the Tuesday I was stubborn and woke up on the Thursday. Now what happened in them 2 days was crazy. Some highlights included. Getting a tattoo in Prague on my foot with Pat Sullivan. It really was a doctor putting a needle in my foot as all my veins were collapsed in my arm. Kicking what i thought were rats off the bed and badly hurting my toe. The next dream will never be explained I dreamt I was in Africa was married and had loads of children. Before I woke up I had a mad dream that i was living with a couple and there 3 kids. The 3 kids were mean and the husband wasn’t much better. The wife was asking someone to bring me to the hospital or i would die. So with nobody willing to bring me, in my dream I walked out the door myself and walked to the hospital.

Then i woke up. Now I was in a induced coma so i had a pipe in my throat making me breathe. I remember asking For dad and all my family were outside the window. I tried to pull the pipe out but the doctor had to check my vitals to make sure I was ready. After about 30 minutes and dad of all people telling me to be patient. The tube was removed and a miracle was happening i was able to breathe. I was too stubborn to use oxygen and that was really because of one reason. In 2005  Art O’Neill god rest him walked in the door of his own pub. He was a grown man and heavily dependant on oxegen because of enfazyme. I will never forget everybody staring. I thought that will probably be me some day but I didn’t want that and again power of my mind got me through. People still can’t understand how I did it but I was determined never to be seen as sick. So that was Thursday. Friday was strange as i honestly thought I was in a dream. My family were overjoyed and kept commenting how my face had colour and the main thing everyone noticed was the lack of coughing. On Saturday a lot of fluid had cleared so 5 of the 6 drains came out and on Sunday I cycled a bike for 15 minutes. I was flying but you need to do one thing after a major operation and that was have a number 2. That was a challenge so what i did was kept eating in my mindset was if i kept pouring food into me it had to go somewhere and after a torturing evening and Martina walking tyneside to find all things natural. We succeeded. In my own head there was a long and eventful road ahead but nobody could predict how eventful.

My portacath had been removed from my chest wall. I still had my awful peg tube as i was still skinny so that was the only downfall. It ended up seeping and leaking so was taken out after a week. I will never forget the care from 2 nurses in the famous 46 a ward which recently i found out was closed. Alison Davidson and Claire were two stand out nurses who understood my attitude towards things. Obviously the first couple of days i was bed bound and my family took care of my endless tablet regime with Anthony always as practical getting a 7 day tablet organiser thing. After a week or so these girls were taking no shit and had me up getting them myself. This helped a lot with my recovery. It took about 2 weeks for the last drain to come out as the fluid was slow to go on my left side. Gerry meitre was looking after me very well along with professor lordon. There was another brilliant doctor that was named Graham from Scotland and he was my main guy. One terrible night about 3 weeks after I was in a 6 bed ward and had a constant migraine. Now I was on a lot of pain killers except the epidural one. Didn’t work for me. I had a morphine pump which I was quickly weaned off due to over use. The migraine was getting worse also that week i was on a high dosage of steroids and anti rejection drugs called cyclosporin. Raul maut the guy that went mad in Newcastle was all over the television so I stayed up and watched that saga unfold. In the middle of the night I went totally blank and remember waking at 12 the next day. My father Tony said it was a scary few hours. I ended up having a seizure and hurt a nurse. Graham came along and demanded a mri scan immediately. He didn’t wait and dad said before he knew it. He had my bed gone to the mri department. The next day they were going to do a lumbar puncture. I have never had one but was told it was sore. Until the results came back and it was due to my cyclosporin tablet which was changed immediately. That delayed my moving to the out patient flats a bit. But I was content in the fact I had Larry and lenny. Yes I named them in my chest. The pain was bearable. Some days you might feel like a elephant sitting on your chest. After a few weeks this guy strolls in and i honestly didn’t know who he was nor did he tell me. When he left i asked and was told that it was my surgeon. When i asked how long surgery etc was. I was told he had just finished one a few hours prior to mine and walks in to do surgery to clear his mind. They also took a break and had pizza. Now there was about 7 people taking out my lungs as they were in pieces.

I was so happy coming towards the end and so were all my family and friends. Dad and olive were so happy we went shopping and they bought me loads of stuff. That evening we had dinner in a beautiful Italian restaurant. I could feel the excitement. Towards the end of October i was released home to the lovely ireland and that was when my hate grew for ryanair and probably more dublin airport. Most of you have flown from Dublin. Newcastle is a small airport so i had no issue there but having a terminal at the end of a airport and no assistance was ridiculous. I came home to bonfires and a lot of well wishes. My time had come to be normal again 🙂