On Wednesday 23rd September, my brother Liam returned home from being in Leicester Royal Infirmary after 7 weeks and 1 day. I can't describe how happy I am about this. I know that this will be a huge boost for Liam by being home and around our family and pets.
It would seem I am still not ready to contemplate my true feelings about what happened and time afterwards. I want to but I just don't have the strength to at the moment. I need to because I'm worried I haven't dealt with it.
At this moment in time I'm watching Wounded. Luckily Liam's injuries were no where near as bad as some of the guys' on the program but a lot of them go straight into Intensive Care and that is why I am forcing myself to watch it. I liked the Intensive Care Unit for how good they were with Liam but I hated it as well. The smell, the noises, the atmosphere of worry. Watching Wounded and seeing mothers, girlfriends, brothers, sisters, family around a bedside upsets me because it reminds me of when it was me, holding my brothers hand, stroking his arm and telling him how much I loved him and how he couldn't leave me because I need him to look after me.
Just writing the latter part of that sentence has made me start crying. I really am not ready to talk about my feelings. I don't know when I will be but I know when I am it will be hard but important for me to do it.
'Brother and Sister, together we'll make it through...''
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