My Journey as a Patient through the Intensive Care Unit at Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital, Drogheda

Part I              Part II              Part III

After about five weeks on the ventilator I showed signs of being over the worst and the gradual weaning off of the same was proposed. When put on the machine, I was asked to relax and go with the vacuum pulse rate. Now I was required to work hard and get back up to a certain rate. This was the most difficult part of recovery mode. I succeeded. Now everybody hoped including myself that I would be able to speak again when the tube opening in my throat area was closed over again. I was told the voice can sometimes be entirely different from before. I was lucky. It worked and I don’t know if I ever sounded great anyway.

Around this time my wife Maria brought me an iPod with recordings of my favourite songs… Johnny Cash in particular, right through to the modern times and would you believe it.. Beyoncé. This was great to pass the time and gave me the lift I needed. Also she showed and read me the multitude of cards and good wishes from relatives, neighbours and friends. This was especially wonderful as I had to some extent lost track of time and found it difficult to believe I was now seven weeks into the illness. Although I don`t have any children, I have Godchildren, some grown up and into their twenties. One, Amanda, now a fine young lady, came to visit. To see and hear from her again was special. The cards made and written upon by young nephews and nieces were extra special. I can tell you a lot of tears were shed. The following opinion was held in Ireland in times past: Only the prayers of women and children are ever heard. There was a thing I must relate about the ventilator – when in a state of sleep and perhaps only slightly so, when I could hear nothing else but the machine working, I knew I was still alive. Sounds silly but was very important to me at that time.

Now I could speak and tell the doctors and nurses how I felt, what I had come through so far. I was also glad to be able to say thank you because they deserved so much thanks, Dr Olwyn Lynch and her wonderful team. Although all through the illness in the care of the ICU and the consequential handling by doctors and nurses, there was only human touch at arm`s length. This was so because of all the paraphernalia of monitoring machines, the ventilator, the food supply tube and the intravenous needle connection to my body. My wife Maria of course kissed me, but I needed a hug. Perhaps Fr Tom’s song was stuck in my mind, making me believe that a hug really was the best cure of all. I don’t know, but the day I got my speech back I told the nurses. We laughed and cried at my request together. Mary with the glasses obliged. I will never forget the moment as long as I live. It was wonderful. I think the simple gesture of care and human love gave me the boost I needed to fight on. There was still a long road ahead.

About this time the feeding tube blocked with some medication and needed replacing. This I dreaded because the first time it was sore but this time the procedure turned out to be ok and I discovered to my delight that my swallow was working as the tube went down into my stomach. Fresh sites for the intravenous needle into my arms completely ran out, as vein after vein just collapsed from all the incisions. I was informed of the need to place the needle site in one of my feet which hadn’t yet been used. I was shocked because I knew them to be extra sensitive. It had to be done. They tried and succeeded. My body had lost a lot of condition from when the illness had first started. Everyone by now knew to handle my feet and legs gently to avoid pain and discomfort, though I was showing signs of recovery.

A foreign doctor when doing his rounds would use a broad needle along what could best be described as test sites on my legs. This had gone on for days until he finally informed in his native tone, “ANTHONY… I expect you will make full recovery from this illness.” I can’t tell you how thrilled I was to hear his view at this time though I didn’t show it. I remained sceptical until one day the fingers of my left hand began to twitch. There was definitely slight movement there. All in ICU who attended to me were thrilled, none more so than the doctor when he heard.

I must retract now, and tell about the passing of time and how it felt just lying there in such a state. The bed in ICU literally became my home for the two months or so I was there. My whole life took place in that bed so even although I couldn’t move, my mind through the window of my imagination often took me from the spot. What wonderful trips I went on to all the scenic places I had been in reality up to now. I seen them again… fished in lakes, rivers, and the sea. All the race tracks I’d been to, nearly every county in Ireland, and of course Prestbury Park, Cheltenham across the Irish Sea near to Stratford Upon Avon where I actually stayed. Home to the great Shakespere, and what more imagination could I have than he. Well, I think I did through those weeks in ICU. Although in reality I couldn’t physically drink water to quench my thirst, on a trip through southern France I came to this spot. It was night time and I drank at a spring where candle lights adorned the shrine to Our Lady. Of course it was Lourdes, but would you believe following this experience from that moment on in my bed in ICU I never felt thirsty again.

The unit my bed was in happened to be across from the main desk, and from where I lay I could watch the goings on or so it might have appeared to whoever might have been there especially through night time and as dawn came. There is a small window beyond the desk area. I could actually see the dawn break each morning over what I knew to be the hills of Tullyesker and Fieldstown. What a wonderful sight. Of course I wondered would I ever be able to walk the fields and just enjoy the simple things in life again. I would certainly appreciate life more if God would only give me the chance.

Of course I prayed in my time in ICU. I always had a strong faith, whatever about religion. I was brought up a Catholic, though I respect all denominations, and I know many different faiths prayed for me in their own respectful way. I mentioned earlier about setting out on a journey through hell. Well, that was exactly how it was. I came on that journey alright, but I had angels guiding me and those angels were the doctors and nurses of the ICU at Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital. Thank you so much.

I finish on one simple tale from Our Lady of Lourdes. Before leaving the hospital on the 6^th June to be brought to the National Rehabilitation Hospital in Dun Laoghaire, a funny enjoyable incident occurred. Having been moved from the ICU on the fourth floor to the step down unit on the second in the newer section of the hospital where I was in recovery mode. I was this day hoisted out of bed, placed in a monstrosity of a wheelchair and taken out by a lovely Asian nurse onto the corridor area and brought to a large balcony protected by glass but allowing a great panoramic view over the town of Drogheda and the countryside beyond. I became emotional and shed some tears. The nurse noticed and showed to understand by telling in her native accent with broken English; “You have much love for this your home town, Anthony.” When I regained my composure I told her; “I do have a great love for this town but that`s not why I cried… I’m just damn bloody glad to be able to see the place again.” We both burst into laughter as she seen and understood the statement. And that`s exactly how it was. The day was a beautiful summer one, like most that came that year of 2013. At that time I suppose I realised I had survived a great battle. I`d made it!

Before being taken to Dun Laoghaire, I promised the doctors and nurses I would come back, hopefully walking, and thank them in public on the local radio station with Gerry Kelly on his afternoon show. They must have thought I was still mad from all the medication and the illness. Well, I fulfilled my promise, told my story on Gerry Kelly`s show, and most important of all thanked the doctors and nurses at Our Lady of Lourdes for saving my life and also the people in Dun Laoghaire for giving me the ability to fulfil my life.

You know, there is a parable somewhere in scripture which tells of Jesus curing ten lepers from their illness. Only one of the ten came back to thank him. In living every day as it comes I like to think I am the same one, and that he hears my thanks and sees it in the way I live out the remainder of my life on this earth.

Please click here to continue reading my story as I move to the National Rehabilitation Hospital.