It was a nightmare reality I woke up to in late October 1999.
I opened my eyes, and it took me a while to realise that I was in a hospital bed. “What the hell?!”
For some reason, I found I couldn’t move my head at all. It was being constrained by something.
I then noticed that my arms and legs were heavily bandaged, and they were suspended from some strange metal framework around me.
The only thing I could move was my eyeballs and I began to desperately scan around looking for something recognisable because I still had no idea or memory of how I had ended up here.
I opened my mouth to speak, then to shout, and lastly to try to scream but no sound came out. Again I couldn’t understand what was going on.
For a brief minute, all the horror movies I have ever watched flitted across my consciousness.
Not long after this awful awakening, a team of doctors gathered around my bedside.
I listened as they informed me that I had been involved in a catastrophic train crash. They told me of the damage that had been done to me physically from both the train crash and the fireball. I had little option but to take them at their word.
I then listened as they explained that I had just woken up from a three-week coma.
I had to listen further as they told me the fireball had ripped down my throat and into my lungs, leaving my vocal cords badly burned which was the reason I couldn’t speak.
Finally, they explained the long and tortuous road I had ahead of me if I wanted to recover.
Because I couldn’t talk I had no option but to listen – unable to respond apart from blinking rapidly as the tears welled up. Once they were gone all I could do was think and all I could keep thinking was “how the hell am I going to survive this?”
In my current, silent world I ruminated over what had happened and why it had happened for a very long time.
I needed inspiration…
Discover Pam’s full story in her book – Behind The Mask