It’s a real shock when you’re fit and well to suddenly find yourself in hospital.
You’re in such a clinical environment and everything is so medically focused, which is great, but the language can be challenging. When you want to get back to being well and living your life, it can make you feel very despondent and sad. As the weeks turn into months, you can feel quite hopeless. You think you’re coming to somewhere like Stanmore to get back up on your feet, but that takes time and looks different for everyone.
The garden was an escape. It was incredible being able to go out there. It changed everything.
You can’t underestimate the power of it and how it takes you out of that space of “you’re not well”, “you’re not walking”, “you’re not sure what the future will be.”
This time last year, me and my husband Charlie were going on our dream holiday to the Maldives. I was part of cabin crew teams for years and then moved into various management roles, looking after crews, hotels and clients, so I’ve always loved travelling and being part of that industry.
On our first morning, I went to a yoga class, but something didn’t feel quite right. I left the class and within minutes I was in extraordinary pain. Two hours later, I was paralysed from the chest down.
I was airlifted to the main island, where I spent nine days in hospital whilst I waited to be flown back to the UK by air ambulance. I was told I had transverse myelitis, a rare neurological condition that caused my spinal injury. I was so shocked. My family and friends were too. We just couldn’t believe it.
The care was amazing. They focused on my mind as much as my body, emphasising its power and how important my mind would be to my recovery. They told me to stay strong and positive and to focus on my outcomes. I felt like I was in control and they wanted me to have control too.
When we arrived back in the UK, I was taken to my local hospital near Windsor. They didn’t have a neurology department and it was such a busy ward, so I was looking forward to moving to the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital in Stanmore to properly start my rehabilitation.
After eight weeks, I finally made it there. It was so different. I thought this would be the place where I would get back to being my ‘old self’ and that I’d soon be walking. That changed over the course of a few conversations. Everybody was so lovely and kind, but it was the first time someone told me that it might not get better.
A part of me felt like I’d lost that initial hope. But I decided to embrace my potential – I knew myself and I knew I was in control of my outcomes.
Having said that, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t devastating. Life changed beyond recognition for me and my husband, our two sons – Jack and Louis – my parents, our wider family, my friends, everyone in our lives. I’ve always been very independent and busy with work and travelling and hosting family and friends. Now, it’s difficult to do that. I feel like a large part of me has been put into hibernation. I don’t like asking for help, or how vulnerable I feel.
And yet, I feel incredibly grateful for all the love and support I’ve received. My husband and sons are so positive and we’re focused on getting back to living our lives together. My friends have been incredible too. It’s brought me closer to a lot of people.
My husband was made redundant not long after I arrived at Stanmore, so he travelled at least 45 minutes every day to see me and sometimes twice as long each way, as we’re at the mercy of the M25! But I consider myself really lucky – some people’s families were two or three hours away and couldn’t even come once a week.
My sons and friends came as often as they could too. My mum and dad live a little further away, so they came every few weeks. I was blown away by all their love and support and all of us absolutely loved the garden. I don’t know what we’d have done without it and the team there. Their kindness and support and the fact that everything was accessible just made such a difference.
Whilst I was at my local hospital near Windsor, I don’t think I’d been outside for five weeks. I was just there looking out of the window thinking ‘it’s such nice weather, but I can’t get out.’ Eventually, we found a run-of-the-mill courtyard, which at the time felt amazing.
Little did I know what was waiting for me at Stanmore. My OT showed me the garden and all I could think was ‘oh my gosh, this is incredible!’ It was the first time in two months that I really felt like I’d left hospital. It’s such a beautiful place.
Before my spinal injury, I was never a gardener or a garden lover at all – it’s never been a big draw for me! The garden changed that. I would spend as much time out there as I possibly could. I would go to the gym via the garden, take a book and read out there, listen to podcasts. We’d often sit out there having dinner together, whether it was just me and my husband, or with our sons and extended family. We even had a few birthday parties in the garden and garden pods! We had such gorgeous weather over the summer and having that space to do things as a family meant so much to us.
One evening, the team organised a really lovely mezze night with a magician and my husband said, “God, we could actually be on holiday! We’ve got delicious food, it’s a beautiful night, we’re with lovely people.”
I was so struck by what he said – the trauma affects your family too, so for them to have the opportunity to switch off from that and everything that goes with it is so important. We’ve had quiz nights, my family have tried soapmaking and painting. There are just so many things going on and everyone comes out with their families and friends. You really can’t underestimate the value of the garden for making all of us feel really welcome.
When I felt emotional, I’d join one of the activities and it would take my mind off everything. It gave me a sense of value. Sometimes, when you’re unwell, you can’t go to the gym, or do physio, or get on with all the things you need to do, so you can feel a bit useless. In the garden, you could go and enjoy doing something else and have something to show for it at the end. I loved all the arts, crafts and events – I did baking, made a cushion, tried watercolour painting, screenprinting, decoupage and ceramics. It gives you a real confidence boost.
There’s also the meditative side of it, which is quite magical. The way it’s designed is just wonderful, with the trees, planting and colours. I’ve never experienced anything like it before, but I became fond of a particular tree in the garden. It just felt like the most peaceful part of the garden and it was a very tactile experience too, which was lovely. It just became part of my routine to go out there and sit beneath that tree.
A small group of us would often meet in the garden too. We’d find ourselves outside in the sun, or in one of the garden pods chatting about so many things for hours – anything and everything aside from why we were there. That wouldn’t have happened without the garden.
It was the place where I could switch off and forget some of the horrible experiences I’d had – it made me feel like I was somewhere else. Knowing how powerful your mind is, having that sense of peace and accomplishment goes such a long way.
When I was talking to a friend one day, she said “you wouldn’t get something like this if you were paying for your hospital care. It’s priceless.”
The garden is something you can’t put a value on. It does so much to take you away from that medical environment. It’s a perfect place that just brings normality.
I spent over two months at Stanmore and went home at the end of July. From start to finish, I was in hospital for four and a half months. Our trip to the Maldives wasn’t quite the holiday of our dreams, but certainly a holiday to remember.
For the moment, I’m busy establishing a routine back at home. I regularly go to physio and hydrotherapy at my local rehabilitation centre and I’ve been getting back to doing things I enjoy, like seeing friends and family. I’ve thought about returning to work too, but for now I’m focusing on what I can do to get stronger. Back in March, I couldn’t cough or move from my chest down. Now, I can do that and move my legs. I’ve made lots of progress in six and a half months and every week there’s a little flicker of movement.
It’s really lovely to be home, but life has shrunk quite considerably, so it’s been tough too. You’re not navigating your life and your home in the same way you did before. I can’t access my garden from the back door as there are steps, so I have to go out the front door and around the side instead. The garden at Stanmore made me realise how much I like being outside. Now, the days when I don’t get out are the days that aren’t so great. I really miss that freedom of just popping into the garden and taking five or ten minutes to just be.
The garden will always mean an awful lot to me and my family. It’s very special.