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17 Jul

On one occasion, I pointed at the heart monitor by my bed and whispered proudly to my visitors: “Look who’s come to see me – Madonna!

By the time I was eventually discovered, I was barely breathing.

I was warned it might never repair itself; the first knockback.

However, little fazed me in those first few days after the coma, as I was on morphine.

I only found out about my ordeal, and the doctors’ dire prognosis about the likelihood of recovery, once I’d emerged from the coma.

It was a hot August afternoon, some 13 days after I’d been admitted.