When I first saw her I stood in silence her face was all blotchy were she had been crying so much. I asked what was wrong but she ignored me and went to her bedroom, I followed her and kept asking but she just ignored me. Bye this time I was on the verge of crying myself, as I knew it was something serious and concerned me.
She sat on her bed and tried to calm herself down. First she said it was the police on the phone. Now the room went cold and my mind was rushing thinking of every idea of why the police would ring my house.
My mum carried on and said my brother had been involved in an accident during his paper round and had knocked his head so he was in the hospital.
She kept saying he was fine and was going to be ok, but I just stared at the wall too scared to cry, I couldn’t believe it he was only 13 and the thought of my older brother dying just seamed to choke me.
Suddenly my mum stood back up and said she was going to ring her friend Wendy to see if she could come over to look after my little brother and I while she was at frimley park hospital. About 10 minutes later Wendy came round and my mum rushed off to pick up my dad and to go to the hospital
For the rest of the day my brother was in my head just repeating and repeating about what was going on. And Wendy kept saying he’s aright and will be home soon but I didn’t really believe it.
It felt like a dream and none of it seemed to sink in properly. I knew there had to be more to it as my mum and dad had been at the hospital for hours.
Later on My mum rang home telling me not to worry and that he was going to be ok but I heard a voice in the back round telling my mum to hurry up because something had happened. So my mum said that her money was running out on the phone and she had to go.
In the evening my dad came in so that Wendy could go home. He said that mum had wanted to stay in the hospital over night encase there was any news. My dad told me to go to bed and said he would tell me what was going on in the morning.
That night I didn’t sleep very well because I was so confused and worried about what was going to happen now.
The next morning my dad told me my brother had complained of an earache when he got in frimley park hospital so he had to go and have a C.T scan to see what was wrong. When the doctor came back he had told my mum and dad that he had a blood clot pushing onto his brain and he had to be taken to Atkinson Morley hospital in Wimbledon.
He said that when they arrived at the hospital my brother went straight down for his operation to remove the clot. The operation had taken an hour and a half.
So actually my mum wasn’t staying the night at frimley park hospital but at Atkinson Morley in London. My dad was saying he had been very lucky and that it was going to take a long time for him to get back to normal.
When I saw him the next day he had a bandage around his head with a drip and loads of bruises. I didn’t stay for long because He had to have lots of tests to see if different parts of his brain were working properly.
It took days for him to start walking again and for his eyesight to get back to normal.
He had 32 staples in the side of his head and his scar looks like a question mark.
He came home a week later and didn’t go to school for about a month. He was also not allowed to climb trees for six months.
Its really amazing what all the doctors did my brother I found out about a month later that if the surgeon had waited 2 minutes before starting the operation he would now be dead. He also only had a 50% chance of surviving the operation without brain damage.
By Samantha Maher 9GP.
Words 938.
