Siemens, Universal Robots, and Zivid Unveil Next-Genera ...
Top 1
Remarkable Trudi became receptionist at the rehabilitation centre that helped her after making a New Year’s resolution to return to work.
A high-flying hospital boss who spent months in a coma after having a brain haemorrhage at a staff party became a receptionist at the rehabilitation centre that treated her after making a New Year’s resolution to return to work.
The morning of December 3, 2015, began like any other for Trudi Kemp, with the now 55-year-old bidding goodbye to her sports doctor husband Simon, 56, before leaving for her job as director of strategy at south east London’s King’s College Hospital.
But at a staff party that afternoon, her life changed in an instant when she collapsed moments after telling a colleague that she felt unwell, at the start of a drama which caused her to dub the fateful date “the day her head blew off”.
After tests showed she had suffered a subarachnoid haemorrhage – an uncommon but incredibly serious type of stroke, caused by bleeding on the surface of the brain – Trudi, of Wimbledon, south west London, began her long road to recovery.
In time, she was transferred to the Royal Hospital for Neuro-disability (RHN) in Putney, south west London – and was so moved by the six months of care she received, which she said “gave me back my life”, that she began working there as a receptionist in late 2018.
She explained: “Working at the RHN has been a great reminder of how lucky I have been. There, I’m surrounded by people who live there and always will, whereas I’m able to be back home with my family. It is easy to be miserable and think about how different life is now, but that doesn’t get anybody anywhere.”
The proud mother to Sam, 25, and Theo, 21, said she experienced no warning signs of what was to come, until just before the devastating stroke.
Following a completely normal day at work, she attended a staff party in one of King’s College Hospital’s boardrooms.
“I don’t remember the exact moment everything happened, but I apparently handed someone the glass of wine I’d been holding, and wobbled over to a colleague to say I didn’t feel well – then collapsed,” she said.
Luckily, the get together was just yards from the hospital’s A&E department, so Trudi was rushed over for a CT scan, which revealed she had suffered a stroke.
Meanwhile, as she lay unconscious, her colleagues contacted Simon, who came out of the Tube to find a voicemail urging him to get to King’s right away – only to be warned, when he arrived, that she might not make it.
The family had planned to jet off to Sri Lanka for a special holiday over Christmas and New Year but, with his wife’s life hanging in the balance, Simon was forced to cancel.
Instead, they spent the festive period keeping a bedside vigil, as Trudi remained comatose.
“I had taken care of booking everything, so Simon had to unravel it all,” she said. “My family spent Christmas Day with me, but it must have been incredibly miserable for them.”
In February 2016 – at that point still in a state of reduced consciousness – Trudi was transferred to St George’s Hospital in Tooting, south west London.
The following month, after finally coming to, she was transferred once again to the RHN, to begin her long road to rehabilitation.
With brain injuries, it is difficult to predict exactly what will have been affected, so Trudi also began a tortuous wait to see if she has experienced any lasting damage.
Thankfully, her memory and personality were intact – but she had to learn virtually all her motor skills, including walking and dressing herself, as well as talking, all over again.
“I was incredibly lucky to be left with no substantial disability,” she said. “I worked very hard to relearn everything, but there are still lots of odd little things I’ve had to now teach myself to do differently.
“For example, where my motor skills have been affected, it makes it difficult for me to fasten my bra, or go up and down the stairs without needing to grip the banister.
“I now know that we take for granted the things people can do when their bodies move in a fluid, natural way.”
For six months, Trudi, who has since found out her haemorrhage was likely triggered by high blood pressure – something she had no idea she had – remained at the RHN, where her days were filled with various types of treatment, including physiotherapy and occupational therapy.
She continued: “The staff really are amazing. They offer all sorts of therapies – even things like art therapy and psychotherapy – tailored to the individual.
“At the RHN, I’d have timetabled days, but most of my time was in physiotherapy, to tackle areas of my body where my muscles had melted away.”
She added: “With brain injuries, the body can be prone to taking on unnatural postures, so my legs and arms were put in splints to stop my joints from contracting and ensure they were loose enough to work.”
When she first arrived at the RHN, Trudi was in a wheelchair, but after seeing another patient whose prognosis was worse than hers progress to the point of walking, she became determined to do the same.
Gradually, she built up her strength throughout the summer of 2016, until eventually, she took those all-important first unaided steps.
In September 2016, she was discharged from the RHN, referred instead to the care of a community rehabilitation team.
But, touched by how much the hospital had supported her in her darkest hour, she made a vow to give back in any way she could, and began to volunteer there in 2017.
Meanwhile, after a meeting at her former workplace established that her reduced motor skills made doing her own job almost impossible, she decided to take retirement on medical grounds.
“King’s were very good to me and retiring was the right decision, as there was no way I could have done my old role,” she said. “But I’d worked for 30 years and would never have wanted to stop so suddenly.
“My plan had always been to work past retirement age, then slowly tail off. I missed the people, I missed using my brain – I missed everything.”
So, in 2018, Trudi made a New Year’s resolution to get any job she could. Then, as if by fate, she spotted that the RHN were in need of a part-time receptionist.
After applying and going through the interview process, she was delighted to secure the position in August 2018.
After a four-month stint giving cover, she will return for further shifts, and continues to volunteer there too.
“It was difficult, as the nature of a brain injury often means you don’t know if you can do something until you try, but I really enjoy working there,” she said. “I want to support them in any way I can.”
By sharing her story, she also hopes to raise awareness of the invaluable work the RHN does.
She is also keen to recognise the tremendous support she received from her family. And on December 3, the third anniversary of her stroke, she raised a glass with them in a poignant toast to how far she has come.
Trudi continued: “Even now, my journey is continuing. Emotionally, I’m still working it all out.
“My family have been amazing, even though, in a way, I think this was worse for them. Nobody could tell them for sure if and when I’d wake up, and that uncertainty is a lot to process. I feel incredibly lucky though, and thankful for the amazing work of the RHN. I hope by reading what I’ve been through people will realise how great they are.”
For information, visit www.rhn.org.uk