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24 hours from death

As I lay on the beacj, Jonathon's life was slowly slipping away


Published by: Julie Cook & Amy Thompson
Published on: 20th September 2010

White sand, crystal clear water, palm trees swaying – heaven! And me and my boyfriend of four years Jonathon would soon be enjoying a slice of this paradise. I’d just booked us a holiday to the Maldives.
We worked long hours, me as an osteopath and Jonathon running his IT company, and deserved sunning ourselves and sipping cocktails. But we’d have to wait six months!
‘We can go scuba diving and snorkelling,’ Jonathon, 47, grinned.
‘And take romantic walks on the beach…’ I sighed dreamily.
By the time our holiday rolled round, we were ready to get away. Especially since Jonathon had been so stressed at work.
‘I can feel another migraine coming on,’ he groaned, as we boarded the plane. He’d been getting them for months now, his doctor had given him painkillers.
‘Don’t worry,’ I smiled. ‘In a few hours, we’ll be laying on the beach without a care in the world.’
When we set foot in our hotel room, though, all Jonathon wanted to do was sleep. ‘Why don’t we lay a couple of towels on the beach, have a snooze in the sun?’ I said.
When I turned around, though, he was already snoring loudly on the bed. ‘Never mind,’ I muttered. ‘We’ll grab some cocktails later.’
Despite sleeping all afternoon, Jonathon barely made it to the bar. And the second we’d ordered our cocktails, he’d nodded off again! Downing both drinks, I sighed as his chin lolled on to his chest.
Maybe it was jet lag. Tomorrow we’d scout out the island, book a scuba diving trip. That was bound to cheer him up, right? Err, wrong.
Jonathon had seemed desperate to swim with the fish six months earlier, but he wasn’t bothered. He spent three minutes in the water before complaining of a headache and wanting to go to the hotel.
As the days passed, frustration bubbled inside me. Jonathon had turned into a right misery guts.
By the end of our first week, I was eating alone in the hotel restaurant while he slept. Loved-up couples in the restaurant shot me sympathetic glances. Eurgh! Embarrassed, I hurried back to our room and rifled through my bag for the DVDs.
‘Desperate Housewives,’ I said, picking out the box-set and rolling my eyes. ‘How ironic.’
I watched the series while he slept. By the start of our second week, he wasn’t even waking for breakfast. I had a horrible feeling that this was more serious than my boyfriend taking me for granted, or being boring.
Something was definitely up. When we stepped off the plane in England, I booked an appointment for him to see his GP again.
‘He’s had two weeks relaxing,’ I said. ‘When he’s awake, he forgets where he is, he’ll nod off halfway through a conversation…’
‘I’ll arrange an MRI scan and for him to see an orthopaedic surgeon,’ he said. ‘It’s probably stress.’
I took Jonathon for his scan, but we had to wait three weeks for the results. By then, he could barely swallow. And at the doctor’s… ‘You need to take him to hospital now,’ he told me. ‘Don’t wait for an ambulance, I’ve called ahead and told them to expect you.’
I bundled him into the car. He passed out halfway there. ‘Oh God. Come on honey, wake up!’
Doctors were waiting when we pulled up. He was whisked away, while a doctor took me to a side room. ‘Jonathon’s suffered two brain haemorrhages,’ he said. ‘We don’t know when they happened or why, but we’re draining the fluid from his brain now.’
I was stunned. He hadn’t been a misery in the Maldives – while I was moaning about him being tired, he’d been on his deathbed! ‘Is he going to be okay?’ I gasped.
‘You got him here just in time,’ he nodded. ‘Another 24 hours, and he wouldn’t have made it.’
Jonathon had come so close to death… A few hours later, I sat anxiously by his side as he came round from surgery. I had to explain what had happened.
‘At least we’ve got our holiday to look forward to,’ he smiled.
‘Umm, we already went two months ago,’ I said.
He was allowed home three days later, and was back to his old self… until he went to stand up.
It was painful for him to stand. Hospital tests revealed why. ‘We found a hole in your spinal cord,’ his doctor said. ‘It’s been leaking spinal fluid into your brain. That’s what caused your haemorrhages.’
‘His spine?’ I cried. ‘Will he be able to walk again?’
‘He should make a full recovery,’ the doctor said. Jonathon had to have two ops to patch up his spine.
It’s been almost a year since his last op and he’s recovered well.
We’re already planning another trip to the Maldives. We’re hoping it’ll be one to remember for all the right reasons this time. Our last trip to heaven really took us to hell and back!
• Caroline is donating her fee to the Emily Ash Trust, a charity helping children with cancer and their families.
Caroline Pittard, 44, Daventry, Northants