Day Two: Simon in intensive care

I do not know who will be reading this, but I hope that this will be helpful. I will try to update regularly on Simon's recovery. Here is our story so far:

Simon was driving home from Adelaide city on Monday evening at around 5pm. He managed to steer his car to the side of the road, got out of the car and fell down in the road in the middle of rush hour traffic. Some people must have helped him and called the police. We can only guess what had been happening in the two or three hours before his collapse. It is evident that at some stage he had pranged the car, I also know that he had been trying to buy a pair of trousers to take with him to Greece the next day where he was about to give an important keynote speech at a conference. He evidently failed to find any trousers. These two things plus rush hour traffic may have been enough to send his blood pressure up, plus the stress of going on an important trip the next day. The keynote speech that he was about to give was the pinnacle of his career so far. The police called me at 5.15pm and I rushed to the hospital. He has a very large bleed on the left side of his brain and this has paralysed the right side of his body, and he is unable to speak or to swallow. He is in and out of consciousness, but can certainly hear us, and he responds to some basic instructions from the nursing staff to squeeze their hand (with his left) and wriggle his left leg. I think he knows who we are. Today he managed to communicate to me that he was in discomfort from a cord that had got wrapped around his midrift and was digging in to his skin. This was a fantastic effort. Later he used his hand to indicate that he wanted the curtains closed. Then he nodded when asked if he wanted the light turned off. You may not realise how difficult these things are, or how pleasing. When his mum, Shirley, telephoned the ward the nurse took the phone to Simon so that he could 'speak' to her, he made some noises and seemed to understand her end of the telephone conversation. Shirley is flying tonight and will arrive in Adelaide on Saturday morning. It is a long and difficult journey for her, but I am so glad that she is coming. We are now two days into this experience, and the doctors cannot tell me with certainty that Simon will pull through, although each day that passes brings greater hope. His blood pressure is still high and difficult to control, and this is not good for the pressure inside his brain. I worry about all of the things that must be going on in his mind (which was extraordinarily active) and how anxious he must be feeling. I tell him everything that is going on, all the actions that we have taken to manage his work commitments, and every scrap of news. My sister and brother-in-law, Margaret and Gerry have been a tower of strength for me and I thank them from the bottom of my heart. I would have been bereft without them. Simon is in the Royal Adelaide Hospital in the ICU. Unfortunately, they do not allow flowers or cards because they get in the way. I am not really up to taking phone calls at the moment, this is the easiest way for me to talk to you without becoming repeatedly emotional. I hope you will understand. Margaret is fully informed and can probably talk on the phone although she has been run ragged these last few days as well. We need your prayers, so keep them coming. We have sent his keynote speech and his powerpoint slides on to the conference organisers in Greece, and we hope that someone there will be permitted to present the speech on his behalf. It was a beautiful piece of work, and the world should hear it. I will keep in touch Much love Marian xx