In Sickness and in Health

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CharlieB4
CharlieB4
1,232 Followers

"Thanks Jane, I'll be back in nine weeks for the birth. Look after her for me."

"That is something we have always done Andrew, it's just a shame you can't." Jane hung up.

The call put my mind at rest, Emily was safe and her parents would look after her. I had to believe I could repair the damage I had done. It's what all this was for.

On the plane trip, I got up to speed with my job. The new government was trying to get some interest from the world's mining companies in the untapped mineral and gas resources of the country. With foreign government aid winding back, they had to get some investment going to keep their heads above water. My employer was an exploration firm that had been doing aerial surveys for the previous twelve months. Having identified potential sites, they were at the ground proofing stage. They had four large drilling rigs and eight smaller ones ready in Kabul. My job was to get the rigs, the employees and supplies to the sites. Also, I had to get the cores back to Kabul and back to Australia for analysis.

There was a large security force to move, as well to keep everybody safe. All fairly straight forward but for one hitch. Thirty percent of all employees were to be locals. It was understandable for the Afghan government to want their people trained to do these jobs, but as someone coordinating the safe passage in a war zone, it made it tough. In my days with the ADF in Afghanistan, I had always used our own personnel. As with any counter insurgency, it was very hard to identify your friend from your foe. All the checks in the world won't stop all of them and it only takes one to wreck everything.

By the end of the first nine weeks, I had three teams on site and drilling. The first batch of cores was on its way back to Australia and I was preparing to head home for the birth of my first child. Emily still wouldn't talk to me but her mother had kept me up to date and assured me Emily was doing well and at least tolerated her parents talking about me. As long as they didn't mention Afghanistan.

I was flying home that night but was going to visit with my old unit at the Australian base for lunch. It was great to be back with my "family" again and I felt at ease. As it turned out, I was way too relaxed. For the last nine weeks, I had been wearing body armor and a helmet. Some of the people I worked with thought I was mad but with a wife at home and with a child on the way, I was taking no chances. At "home" here among friends, I dropped my guard and removed my protective clothing during lunch.

My sixth sense was still tuned for danger and as I sat in the officers mess, I looked out the window and noticed some Afghan trainees loitering around outside. I dismissed it as the main thrust of Australia's presence was to train local forces so they were always in the compound. Then dessert came and the attendant left the trolley in the middle of the room. As I watched, he hustled away a little faster than was normally necessary. Looking outside, the Afghan troops I had seen now had their attention firmly focused on the mess.

I have replayed the next minute over and over in my head ever since. With hindsight, I probably should have jumped up and told everybody to get out. I didn't, I wanted to be sure so I got up and went to the trolley. It was a stainless steel box on wheels with doors on both sides. The desserts had been arranged on top but the attendant had never opened the doors. I leaned down to open one of the doors and then it happened.

I didn't hear or sense an explosion, it was just one second I was bending down, the next I was on my back in agony. I thought I had been electrocuted, every muscle in my body was shuddering. Thinking I was in contact with live wires, I rolled but the shaking wouldn't stop. I pulled myself up into the fetal position and tried to ride out the pain. With my experience, I should have realized it was an explosion but I was messed up.

It seemed to last an age but eventually it subsided and I stretched out my legs again. I opened my eyes but everything was black. Holy shit I'm blind. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. Thinking there was some improvement, I continued to do this until I could see to a limited extent. Everything was in black and white and it was like watching a television with the brightness turned down. Even though it was the middle of the day, it seemed like dusk.

I rolled on my side trying to work out what was going on. I was behind an upturned table. Looking down my body, I was basically nude. The waistband of my trousers were still around my middle, the shirt's cuffs on my wrist and my underpants flapped like a loin cloth. I was told later that the first thing that comes from an explosion is flame and heat which had charred all but the thickest bits of clothing and then the pressure wave had turned the charred drill cotton into confetti.

Looking down further, l saw that I was missing a boot. 'How can I be missing a boot?' I thought. Then there was the sickening realization. Lifting my leg, I could see the two shattered bones. My tibia and fibia protruded from a bloody stump just above where my ankle should have been.

Shit! At that moment holes began to appear in the table I was next too. Jagged round holes in a line about four inches above my body. The Afghan soldiers! I had heard about "green on blue" attacks, where the Afghan recruits in blue uniforms attacked their trainers in green, and now I was in one. I admonished myself for not having seen what was going on. The places the Afghan soldiers had been standing were perfect to create a deadly crossfire in the mess. I wondered why all hell wasn't breaking loose. It actually was, it's just I couldn't hear it as both eardrums had been perforated in the blast. All I could do was keep as flat as possible and hope no stray bullets made things worse.

I didn't have to wait for stray bullets to make things worse. The explosion had started a fire and I now had to move as it encroached on my position. The bullets flying around had slowed as, no doubt, Australian soldiers responded to the gunfire but they were still impacted on things around me.

I made it out. Dragging myself through the rubble, I tried to stay as low as possible and behind what cover there was. Without a foot, it was slow but not painful which surprised me. Running on adrenalin, I guess. What I didn't realize was as well as blowing my clothes off, the blast had burnt my skin and combat crawling away was pulling strips of it off. Out the back and sometime later, I had no idea how soon, a soldier appeared behind what was left of the mess.

I propped myself up on an elbow and said, "I think I need a medic!"

He must have been a recent arrival because after seeing me, he went white and then threw up. He disappeared back around the corner and shortly after returned with a medic. The adrenalin was starting to wear off and my whole body was sending me pain signals. As well, shock was setting in and I became very cold and started shaking. The medic squatted down beside me and placed his little backpack in front of him. He began pulling out dressings and drugs then looked at me again and stopped.

"We will get you out of here, mate." I think he said. Then he stood and began speaking into his radio.

Kneeling down beside my head, he spoke again. "I've got to get help! We need to medivac you ASAP. I'll be right back, hang in there!"

Well, I wasn't going anywhere. They both disappeared again and I was losing hope. The shaking wouldn't stop and I closed my eyes hoping to pass out so I couldn't feel the pain anymore. Before I did, I said goodbye to wife and unborn child. Then said a prayer for the big guy upstairs to look after them. Somehow I relaxed, the pain began to lessen and it all went black.

I came to and the scene around me had changed. I was surrounded by people and there was a base ambulance parked beside me. Now I was awake, the pain was back and I asked for some drugs to stop it. Everybody ignored me. I had been covered with a sheet but soon after it was removed. Must be getting ready to move me, I thought. I saw a guy walking towards me with a large water container that he began to pour over me.

"What the fuck are you doing! Get me out of here! Don't pour water on me I'm already cold!"

Once again, my rantings were ignored and yet another container of water was poured on me. I didn't know I was burnt, I didn't know it was the only thing they could do before the rescue chopper with a doctor onboard got there. I closed my eyes and pass out again.

I woke up in a hospital room. I was alone, flat on my back with no pillow. Looking across, my arms and hands were bandaged, as was my torso. My hands were tied to two tables that had been placed on either side of the bed so my arms were outstretched perpendicular to my body. Remembering some of what had happened, I looked to the end of the bed and only saw one bump under the covers. So I hadn't dreamt about losing the foot. I had an IV line attached to my hand. A tube up my nose, I found out later, was a feeding tube. A bag hung beside the end of the bed with a yellowish liquid inside so I assumed that I had a catheter inserted.

People moved up and down the corridor outside but showed no interest in me. Eventually, a man came in wearing a hospital uniform.

"Morning Sunshine!" He said in a chirpy voice. "How are you this morning?"

"Umm I'm not sure... Where am I?"

"In hospital mate, Royal North Shore, Sydney to be exact. My name's Steven and I'll be looking after you today until shift change at four. Now I understand you are new in this ward today. You only came in from intensive care last night, so I'll just give you a quick rundown. The lever on the stand near your hand is attached to the call bottom. Just whack it when you need some help. Breakfast will be in about twenty minutes, I'll just get my other patients started, then I'll come in and feed you."

"How long have I been here?"

"Best wait for the doctor to come and explain that. I understand your wife will be in about eight as well. She will be glad to see you awake and so alert." He left before I could quiz him more.

I lay and waited. A lady came in and left a tray with breakfast on a table at the end of the bed. The nurse came back and fed me like a baby, but I couldn't get any more information out of him. He turned on a little television and left. I couldn't hear it very well but I was preoccupied with my own thoughts about how I got here, and what sort of reception I was going to get from Emily.

The doctor arrived first, he introduced himself and made some small talk while he checked a few things, then dragged a chair over and sat down beside the bed.

"Andrew, what do you remember about what happened?"

I went into my explanation of the incident through my eyes, he interrupted a few times to clarify a few points but mostly sat and watched me over his reading glasses.

"So you have no recollection of things that happened after the army base in Afghanistan?"

"Not until I woke up this morning."

"It's my understanding you were airlifted by chopper to the capital Kabul and stabilized before being flown to Europe. The Americans have a hospital in Germany specifically for war casualties. They put you into a medically induced coma. You stayed there for three days till they thought you were stable enough to take the trip home. There were two others there injured in the same incident and you were all flown back here in a C 130 that was borrowed from the US 34th Aeromedical Evacuation Squadron. I had heard of these flying Intensive care units but had never seen one till then. Just as well really because you had a bad turn six hours out of Sydney, they kept you going, amazing what we can do nowadays!"

The door to my room swung open and Steven, the nurse, came in. "Sorry doctor, Andrew's wife is here. Is it alright if she comes in?"

"Of course! Of course!" he said standing up. "I'll come back later after I've seen some other patients." He was walking out the door when he stopped and stepped back inside. "You've got a good one there son. You're a lucky man!"

My heart was in my mouth, what was I going to say? How would Emily react?.

Emily came into the room and gave me a tight smile as she approached the bed. She was as beautiful as ever but there were some lines at the corners of her eyes I hadn't noticed before.

Leaning across the bed she gave me a kiss on the cheek. Placing her hand one my bandaged one she asked. "How are you this morning?"

"Umm... A little fuzzy. You look great!" I tried for some flattery.

"Liar! I have seen the lines on my face. You're the cause of them and you will be paying for a surgeon to flatten them out." She replied with a humorous tone.

Maybe I wasn't in too much trouble, now it's time to be humble.

"I'm sorry Emily, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have..." Emily interrupted me, putting her hand up to stop me speaking.

"Don't bring all that up! There has been way too much stuff happening to worry about what 'should have' and 'could have' happened We just have to concentrate on the future now, our future, and the future of our family."

As she finished speaking, she looked down and her hand went to her stomach. Fuck! The baby! I suddenly remembered. But Emily didn't have a stomach anymore, what had happened?

"The baby?" I croaked, dreading the response.

Her face brightened. "He is outside. The nurses are playing with him in the nurse's station. Can I bring him in? The psychiatrist wasn't sure what you would remember and didn't want to stress you!"

"You had bloody better!"

Emily smiled broadly as she left the room returning with a bundle in her arms. Placing the baby on the bed, she carefully unwrapped him.

"Andrew, meet Edward James Hinze!"

My son was sound asleep in a little red suit.

"He's a big boy!" I said.

"Well he is seven weeks old." Emily replied beaming down at our boy.

"Seven weeks?" I was stunned. She must have had the baby while I was still in Afghanistan.

Emily looked up and sensed my confusion. "What has the doctor told you?" She asked.

"Just how I got back to Australia."

"Umm... Andrew, you have been in a coma for sixty days!"

"Oh..." I didn't know what to say after that.

"It was bad, Andrew. They nearly lost you a few times. The burns and the infections, we were all so worried." Emily had tears in her eyes.

"Burns?" The bandages made sense now.

"Yes, to seventy-five percent of your body. Some were full thickness, especially on your chest, leg and arms. They did some grafting but they didn't have too many places not burnt to get the donor skin from. They used spray on skin on some parts as well."

"Oh... Um... What else was wrong with me.?"

"All the bones in your face were fractured, skull was fractured at the back and of course your foot was blow off."

"Yes, I remembered that one." I said looking down the bed at my hidden stump.

"They put you into a coma so your body could devote all its energy to healing. All the heads of department were in to consult on your case but they weren't very hopeful at first."

There was a quiver in her voice and her hand was shaking as she sat down in the chair the doctor had bought close to the bed.

Putting her hand back on mine she continued. "They called me into family conferences numerous times to tell me to prepare for the worst. They said if by some miracle you survived then there was a high probability of brain damage. You had bruising around the base of your neck, like a whiplash injury, from being blown backwards. If your spinal cord was damaged then maybe you wouldn't be able to walk again. They couldn't do a CAT scan to find out the extent of the damage because you had too much shrapnel in your body that they couldn't remove."

Emily's shoulder were shaking as she sobbed, tears were in my eyes as well.

"Did they ever ask to turn the machines off?" I asked, rather morbidly.

Emily's chin came up and defiance flashed in her eyes. "They never dared! On your first night in Sydney, they sat me down and told me that given the severity of your injuries that you had a 115% chance of mortality. I said to them that I thought doctors were good at maths and they should know that you can't have 115%! They thought I was being irrational but I just told them, 'You Don't Know Andrew Hinze!'"

She wiped her eyes and brushed her hair back from her face. In a softer voice she continued, "I slept on the floor of your ICU room that night. The last thing the doctor said to me was if your core temperature didn't improve they weren't going to intervene further. I prayed that it would go up. It did a little. Then it dropped the next day. It was three days and I never left your side. By then I knew you weren't going to give up."

Her eyes were shining now, staring into the middle distance, but not looking at anything. Her hand gripped my bandaged one tightly. She was in the zone. I felt guilty. Emily hadn't given up on me, but I had, laying out the back of the mess in Afghanistan. Edward woke, stretched, yawned, then started crying.

"I'll just go and change him, then I'll be back." She gathered him up and leaned over to kiss my cheek again.

"I love you!" I said, but it seemed really pathetic in comparison to what Emily had endured.

"You had bloody better!" She replied and then she was gone.

The doctor came back in.

"Gave the ICU doctors merry hell, that one did!" The doctor said with a laugh, looking in the direction of the door through which Emily had gone. "She was at them every morning except for two days after the birth of your son. Wanting to know whether you had improved overnight, what the next step was. Really kept them on their toes!"

"Yes, I'm very lucky. I should buy a lottery ticket." I said trying to keep things light.

The doctor gave me a stern look. "I wouldn't bother. You have used up all your luck son. I read the report on the explosion. Three others in the mess died that day, one more three days later. Mostly from shrapnel. You were so close you actually moved with the explosion rather than being hit by it. There are still quite a few pieces of metal inside you but they aren't going to pose any threat, so it's best to leave them."

"My foot? Was it cut off by shrapnel?" I inquired.

"No, purely by the force of the blast. It was found thirty meters away, too badly minced up to think about reattaching it. The heat from the blast that burnt your skin partially sealed the wound preventing you from dying from blood loss. You still needed a lot of blood. There were a lot of puncture wounds. A bullet must have grazed your skull. It took fifteen stitches to close it up."

"So where to from here?"

"You will be here, in the burns ward for quite a bit of time. Probably about sixty days, maybe more. We haven't got a lot of unburnt areas to use as skin donor sites. As a result, we are going to have to wait for your own skin to grow again where it can. Then it will be off to rehabilitation for further recovery and a prosthetic leg.

"Total timeframe till I'm back at work?" I asked.

"Don't count on getting there before eighteen to twenty four months." he replied rather gravely.

"Oh"

"I'll be back tomorrow and you're sure to have more questions then. Just a tip, if you think of something to ask, get your wife or a nurse to write it down. You're on 20 ml of methadone twice a day, so you are going to find it difficult to focus and you will sleep a lot."

He waved and then headed out the door. I was left with my thoughts, how was I going to stay in hospital for that long? How would my family survive? With this stuff whirling in my head, I closed my eyes and slept.

My wife woke me when lunch arrived. I ate a little but I soon felt full. After living off a feeding tube for sixty days, my stomach had shrunk. I also found out that my sense of taste and smell were gone. That did little to help my desire to eat although my wife said, wrinkling her nose at the plate, that it might have been a blessing.

CharlieB4
CharlieB4
1,232 Followers