Hi, you are “face to face with Shell”.
You can either read on or watch the video below:
I am going to talk about what happened to me after I was discharged from hospital. By sharing my experiences, I hope that it will help you to have a better understanding of your own journey; what to expect, what your family and friends can expect.
I was severely burned in a gas explosion, whilst on holiday in Spain. When I was first burned, I felt that there was not a lot of help out there; certainly not as much as there is now. Thanks to the Internet, we can now get hold of a lot more information at the touch of a button…,yeah, I’m that old…there was no Internet way back in 1984…lol.
If you want to know “my story”, please click on the link below:
So I Survived 50% Burns – What Next?
Great, I survived the explosion. I survived all the operations. I didn’t get an infection and die, which did happen to a woman in the next room to me, she didn’t have nearly half the burns I had and this scared the s**t out of me. She was a lovely woman, we were each in our own rooms…we would shout out to each other, see how each other was doing. That first morning that I didn’t hear a “good morning” from her was very sad.
So I had gotten through all this…what next? I felt that I had to “reinvent” myself. I was now someone else, still the same but somehow different – a new person on the outside and maybe a little different on the inside as well?
The fact that my parents had moved house, not long after I was burned didn’t really help. They moved from my childhood home to my gran’s home (she was killed in the explosion along with her friend). I felt that when I was eventually discharged from hospital and returned home, it wasn’t to “my” home. Of course it was familiar, it was gran’s house but it wasn’t MY home.
First up…WHERE WAS ALL MY STUFF??? My mum loved a good clear out (still does…lol) this was her perfect opportunity to get rid of all my “c**p”…lol. We were actually just talking about this the other day with my little cousin, who we were visiting. I asked my mum to deny that she threw all my stuff out…she just started laughing and I asked her again to deny it…she didn’t…know her too well…lol.
Very good friends of mine said she was probably thinking; “yeah, she doesn’t need her stuff…too much distraction…she has enough to deal with now”…lol. We had a right laugh about it.
My new bedroom had been decorated with Pierrot, which was beautiful and I really loved having new things, and was very grateful to my parents for doing this for me but I really felt like I had a totally different life now. Firstly with my new scars and secondly with a new house, and none of my familiar things around me. The only really familiar thing was my bear “Sooty”, who has been with me since I was 2 years old, he even stayed in hospital with me after the explosion; the staff even bandaged him up like me and every time I got a bandage off, so did Sooty…lol. I still have him…yeah and he still sits on my bed. Everything was weird, everything was strange, everything was different, and I felt nobody knew what I was going through.
I felt my parents were pretty strict before the explosion (what teenager doesn’t think this) and now I felt that they were even more so. I can now understand; I was their only child and they had nearly lost me but I just could not understand the “control”; this is the way that I portrayed it at that time. I just felt that the strictness and control was even more so; for example; having to come in on a Saturday night at 9 pm to get “creamed” – one night missed would not have made a difference, I thought. Please bear in mind that I am talking here from the mind of a teenager.
The control to me was unbearable. Always having to know where I was and who I was with, what was I doing? If plans changed, which they did (I was a teenager for goodness sake) then it seemed that they were annoyed with me! I just never understood it then.
I wasn’t a bad teenager and wasn’t getting into trouble, so why?
My mum said that they [my parents] treated me as “normal”, which was the correct way, as I would never be the person I am today or achieved what I have. I would get telling offs, even in the hospital, which now, I can see why they treated me this way. The medical team had advised them to…I never got off with much. The medical team seen how my parents were treating me and they then knew that they could be strict with me as well. I am glad they all did, as it pushed me along…sometimes not that great at the time…lol.
I now realise my parents had their own demons to deal with. I mean, my dad had lost his mum (my gran) their daughter was seriously injured, as was my cousin, and my gran’s friend had died; it was a lot for one family to deal with.
They had done a tremendous amount for me; to them and the rest of my family and friends, I shall be eternally grateful.
If you are a teenager, I know how you feel. Ok, I was a teenager many years ago but please take heart that I know what you are going through. Times may have changed but the pains are still the same.
If you are a parent, I don’t know how you totally feel but I can understand. You just want the best for your child and want no further harm to come to them.
Thanks to the internet, there are a few forums and help out there. This is all available, of course, without having to leave your home, just in case you are not at that stage to be going out and about all the time. It took me a long time to have the confidence to go out by myself wearing my new scars. I always had to have someone with me, even in my own small village, where virtually everybody knew me and knew what had happened to me. I still needed that security.
There is no length of time when things will happen for you. When you feel that you can/want to do things, do them…give them a try. If it doesn’t work out totally…give it a while and then try again. Everyone is different and everyone will take different lengths of time to do things/to achieve certain things.
I was in my 30s when I started to not worry about the scars on my arms! Weird thing was, I didn’t care when I was on holiday…..what was that all about? I would quite happily walk around with my arms uncovered.
I was basically discharged from hospital and given to my parents/family/friends. It was like, right, on you go….there was obviously follow-on appointments and many years of skin grafts, etc., to follow but there was no emotional support as such. This was landed onto my family and friends…who again, I shall be eternally grateful to.
Stay strong you can do this.
Chat soon.