I remember nothing, that night I had my crash
7 cracked ribs, 1 punctured lung, the other collapsed, my spine taking the ultimate bash
9 months inside, those doctors saving my life, where would I be without the NHS
27 years old, life just at its beginning, those days gone would now be your best

Waking up I looked at my mum and then looked at my dad, tracheostomy stopping me from talking
6 weeks induced coma, crazy dreams I couldn’t tell you, girlfriend now presumably walking
Knowing before told, who is going to be so bold, to tell me the news I knew but still did dread
Dad by my side, a finalisation they could not hide, it’s unlikely you will ever walk again

This I knew but dare not say, family and friends suffering in the know
A wheelchair for life, not me, its not right, too young for this to swallow
Moved to a place where spinal injuries were rife
Stanmore National Orthopaedic Hospital. an institution where you start to see the light

Moved from ward to ward, progress slow but on the mend
contemplating so many situations and a world I did not understand
faces and places now all the same still lying on my back
I want to sit up, be normal again and get this soul back on track

Taught about so much that I really did not know
your biggest priority now was your skin, pressure sores a definite no-no
learning to go to the toilet in a completely different way
catheters and a tube of ****, a perverted dream for some that even pay

The outside world a playground not built for the likes of those in a wheelchair
a trip into town, get used to the tube, disabled design back in the day not really a care
getting into a car, an ease all my life, now governed by the height of the roof
legs under a table, as some now unable, the world now a minefield is the honest truth

I met some characters in that place, men and women with stories to make your mouth drop
some on drugs, some back from the war, one woken from a spinal stroke, wow what a crop
I met certain nurses, most of whom were fabulous and are still now friends
then there were a certain few, riled and crass and basically, a pain in the ***

And this is where life starts all over again
getting used to the looks, sympathetic and loving, life now on a new trend
from being stuck in that ward where a suppository is now needed for my ***
you’ll know where I am, end of the corridor, bay 3 bed 1

JJB