Real Life Stories: “Unfortunately, your mum is very, very poorly and it is unlikely she is going to survive.”
On 20th May 2011, Miles’ life, and that of his family, changed forever when his mum had a brain haemorrhage.
This is his story.
The phone rings, I answer, (my dad calling not unusual), “your mum has collapsed and is on the way to hospital, it’s pretty serious.”
Fear, shock, panic, a rollercoaster of emotions. Mum was at a friend’s house ready to go on holiday so the reality of what was happening just didn’t seem to compute straight away.
How could she be on her way to hospital when we had only just been chatting about her trip away? How could my mum be unconscious in an ambulance somewhere? It just didn’t make sense.
We rushed to Bolton Royal Hospital, I was first there, and I was met by a doctor who informed me that my mum (Jo), had suffered a serious brain haemorrhage and they were assessing her for surgery. My Dad arrived at the hospital and I tried to find the words to explain what I had been told, I have two sisters, one was 19 at the time (Rebekah) and the other was 23 (Naomi) who was abroad on holiday with friends.
At first, despite the severity of the situation being made clear, we were given some small hope that she may yet have some options as the doctor informed us they would be sending copies of her scans to a specialist unit. A little while later they returned to say that sadly due to the degree of the bleed, surgery was not in fact an option. I still remember the doctor’s exact words…“Unfortunately, your mum is very, very poorly and it is unlikely she is going to survive.”
The words were incomprehensible to me, how can someone be fine four hours earlier and then be transferred to intensive care, with no chance of recovery - it was like living in a nightmare.
The following 24 hours were nothing short of horrific, needing to get my sister home from holiday so she had the chance to say goodbye as well as make some of the most difficult phone calls to close friends and family.
On the 21st May 2011 - Jo Powell, my mum, best friend and role model passed away at the age 53. She left behind three children, a husband and countless friends who adored her.
“Grief is one of those things you hear about and sympathise with but until you experience it it’s hard to explain the grip it has on your life. My family had lost its north.”
Adele (my now wife) was pregnant with our first child Josh who was born in the September and I struggled to balance the loss with the birth of my son.
The following years were like walking carrying a weighted vest, I (by my own admission) didn’t talk about how I was feeling which only extrapolated the impact of loss further. Anxiety started to rule my life with regular panic attacks and constant worry about the menial things in life.
The biggest fear was that Mum would be forgotten.
She was a force of nature in my eyes; a woman who battled cancer earlier in her life and won, a woman who was a strong feminist, a woman who had six degrees including a PhD, a woman who put her children before anything in her life.
Over a decade later, a passion for running I’ve seen ebb and flow has now become an active pursuit that has changed my life for the better. It is something I do for me that gives me a sense of freedom and provides needed release. The wave of endorphins post run serve as a remedy to anxiety I’ve previously felt paralysed by. I used to feel overwhelmed by the notion that my mum never met her grandchildren (of which she now would have six by way of my sisters and I). Her missing out doesn’t get any easier, but we keep her memory alive through them and through finally understanding the unwavering love of a parent.
If I have learnt anything from this experience its these three things:
Communicate
The sense of loss can sometimes be overwhelming, embarrassing, confusing, I implore everyone to please release the pressure that grief can bring. Whether that’s family, friends, professional help or even keeping a journal it can be a foundation to ‘finding you’ again and there is no shame in trying to move on with your life.
Focus
Find something that is for you, something that makes you happy, for me it was exercise, but it can range from social activities to reading. Whatever brings you that inner peace, find it and leverage it.
Patience
The initial loss changes your life path, and it can be incredible difficult to understand how you will ever move past it or be happy again. Setting small goals or milestones can really help this process and trying to be patient and let grief take its course but with a sense of control.
Have you lost someone to a brain haemorrhage? Check this article for 5 things to help you deal with the death of a loved one after a brain haemorrhage
Would you be happy to also share your story to support others? Email the NKMT team now and we will send you more information about how you can share your story.