Saturday 28th November. less than 24 hrs since the news that I had heart problems and would have to endure a angiogram, the phone rang. It was my sister, Sue, telling me that she had just had news that mom had collapsed from a heart attack . Mom and her friend had been on holiday in Turkey for two weeks and this happened as she was getting on the coach to go to the airport. The medics had started her heart then sent her to Hospital where she was now in intensive care and in a coma. After speaking to the Turkish hospital and discussing the severity of the situation with Sue we decided I needed to fly out there.
Until now I have always ticked the boxes when it comes to travel insurance. This time however there were boxes I couldn’t tick. If you don’t answer truthfully you may as well not take insurance out. one such question ” do you have any undiagnosed symptoms” ? well…..yes. The angiogram diagnoses problems and hopefully fixes them at the same time. After some phone calls and discussions between the agent and his supervisor I secured some travel insurance at 10 times the usual cost.
It’s mid day on Monday 30th November and I’m standing on the platform at New Street station, Birmingham. The pain is there as I’ve been walking to quickly and my thoughts are running away with me. The task I face is daunting and, as I stand waiting I start to question if I’m up to it. I finally make it to Antalya, Turkey in the early hours the following day after spending 8 hours waiting for a transfer at Istanbul. I have arranged a transfer from the Airport straight to the Hospital. As we speed through the residential streets in excess of 110 KPH in his battered Peugeot with the metal on metal sound of his brakes, I reflected that any other time this would be scary.
The lady in charge of foreign patients ( Anastasia). informed me I could see Mom shortly,so I sat outside and waited. I like to think of myself as grounded and not overly emotional so I was prepared to see mom in any state. Anastasia lead me down a series of corridors and down stairs to what must have been intensive care. There was a ward with approximately 8 beds all occupied with patients hooked up to machines. After washing my hands and putting on a face mask they led me over to Moms bed. So much for being strong. All hope immediately vanished and I cried. After a short while I composed myself and forced a few words of comfort out to Mom. Outside the hospital I faced the task of phoning family to tell them of the situation but each time I broke and couldn’t even find the words to hang up.
I walked across the town to find my hotel and checked in. The following day I had a slow walk from the hotel to the hospital. I had found texting was a easier way of communication and didn’t betray my emotions. My eldest son (Sam) had asked if I was eating ok. I realised I hadn’t eaten since the morning of departure and promised I would get something later. This time when I went to see Mom I spent more time with her and spoke more . I watched the heart monitor and listened to her breathing. As I left I stroked her hair, told her I loved her and if she was tired it was ok to go to sleep now.
Later that afternoon I got the phone call I knew was coming. Anastasia asked me to return to the hospital. There was no need for questions. I was shown into the surgeon who had put Stents into Moms arteries in the hope of saving her. He just said simply “It’s over” . He looked a typical family man with a caring face and he expressed his sadness for my loss. We hugged and I thanked him for trying then left. After the emotional phone calls I started walking back but found myself stopping for food. Was this inappropriate or just realising it was over ? who knows.
The journey home was slow and uncomfortable. Sitting in Istanbul’s crowded departure lounge I had pains in my chest and I seriously questioned whether I should board the plane. With the fear that someone would have to come get me if I didn’t, I got on the plane. I was so thankful that my Sister and Brother-in-law picked me up from the Airport back home when I landed on Thursday. I was tired and emotionally drained but the usual 40 minute drive home took 2 and a half hours due to motorway closures. As we sat in the gridlocked traffic I looked up at the sky waiting for the plague of locusts….
Phil's Quadruple Bypass 