When a road crash turned her husband into a paraplegic, Phil Sayer (cl-murerrol) courageously picked up the pieces of her family's lives and began again

On June 26th, 2002, I was awakened in the early hours of the morning by the doorbell ringing. Dazed, I looked out of my bedroom window to find two policemen waving up at me. I quickly realised that something was very wrong.

I was told that an hour earlier my husband had been involved in a very serious road traffic accident. He had been under considerable stress for quite a while. Apparently he had left our bed and gone for a drive.

Jim's condition was critical. He had sustained a perforated right lung, fractured his skull, cheek bone and eye socket. He also had several broken ribs and a dislocated spine. His brain was swelling. By day two his left lung closed down and he was on life support. Miraculously, no one else had been involved in the accident.

My whole life collapsed around me. I was told that if Jim survived he could be brain damaged and possibly paralysed down the right-hand side; undoubtedly, he would be paralysed from the waist down. Jim was only 32 years old.

I made a deal - I don't know who with exactly as I am not religious - but I made a deal. If Jim was to be brain damaged or paralysed down the right hand side as well as from the waist down, I didn't want him to survive. He wouldn't have wanted that. However, he could probably cope with being a paraplegic - and so could we.

Jim was on life support for six weeks - as well as his injuries he had various infections to deal with. After two and a half weeks in intensive care, he was transferred to Stoke Mandeville Hospital, near Aylesbury, Bucks. I could only see him twice a week and as I could not drive I had to rely on lifts. My two girls, Heather and Emily, who were aged five and three at the time of the accident, were pushed from pillar to post between friends.

Eventually, as Jim's condition failed to improve, Stoke Mandeville had no choice but to operate on Jim's back to stabilise his spine. During the operation doctors discovered an infected haematoma on Jim's back. This was removed and Jim began to make a rapid recovery.

Three days later, Jim was propped up in bed and able to communicate by writing things down. He asked what had happened and I told him about the crash. His written reply was "I can't feel my legs Phil."

The slow road to recovery
A few days later Jim was allowed to leave intensive care and transfer to a rehabilitation ward. For six months Jim remained in rehabilitation. For four of those months, my two girls and I visited him every weekend travelling by train on a Friday night and returning on a Sunday night. The journey took two and a half hours to get there and up to five hours to return.

Eventually, Jim was able to come home on weekend leave and we were given a date for his release. Up to this point, we had lost my job, my business, our car, the use of half of Jim's body, and his job.

We would also lose our house as it could not be adapted to accommodate a wheelchair. We hung in limbo waiting for a new home. My five-year-old daughter became ill through stress. I had received no counselling and no help with our situation at all. I had to fight for everything - including benefits.

At the beginning of December, 2002, a house became available in a nearby village and two weeks later we moved to our new home. On December 19th, Jim was discharged from hospital.

For the next six months, we waited for the house to be made more wheelchair accessible. Jim and I struggled to adapt to our new lives and predictably there were problems. Finally, in July a lift was installed. Other alterations began to follow and for six months the house was full of builders.

Jim now works as a volunteer at the local hospital and also participates in basketball which he loves. Our eldest daughter is now seven years old and has been classed as special needs because of the emotional issues caused by stress.

Despite all this, there is a light at the end of our tunnel. We have pulled through the crisis so far and we're attempting to rebuild our shattered lives.

I know our lives will probably be very different ultimately and, of course, no one knows what the future holds. Fortunately, I remain an optimist and I trust that everything will work out for the best.

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