It happened in the middle of the summer holidays. I was playing
with my brother on my bike. I fell off and found I couldn't move my
arm. I knew it was broken. What I didn't know was that I was going
to spend the next 15 days in Lewisham Hospital.
I was in agony! A nurse helped carry me out of the car into
A&E. For about an hour they gave me drugs and asked questions
and x-rayed me. I had eaten some blackberries, so they couldn't
operate on me that night. Mummy slept with me in the ward. She comforted me.
The next day I learned how to use the radio and TV and that was
great because I could listen to my favourite bands like the Black
Eyed Peas.
My arm was in traction for 10 days. It really hurt when the nurses
had to move me and I shouted 'Oh no!'
At first there was a poor baby with a broken pelvis who cried all
the time. It disturbed me but I felt sorry for him.
I was fed up. As the days went by I realised I wasn't going to go
to Camber Sands or my favourite teacher's wedding with my friends.
But I liked watching England win the test match.
The nurses were helpful and quite friendly. The food was awful
though. The pizza tasted like soggy lasagne.
Sometimes I was left alone when mummy or daddy couldn't come and I
was scared the nurses would come and move me or
something.
One night I had my operation to put pins in. They injected me. I felt my eyes closing and then
it was complete darkness. A few days later I managed to walk to the
play area. I felt dizzy. I just stared for five minutes at the
trees and river out of the window. I felt so grateful that I could
see something nice outside. I had been lying down for a week and a
half. After two weeks I finally went home.