Carla was having the time of her life partying with her besties. Then her celebrations turned
into a nightmare…
Sitting side by side in bed, my partner and I were bickering.
It was nothing big – a silly tiff that we’d forget about by the morning.
That is, until Craig turned to me.
‘Will you marry me?’ he asked.
For a brief moment, I wanted to say ‘no’ in a huff – but Craig had always told me
he’d only ever
ask me once.
And if this was
my only chance to become Mrs Bolton, then I wasn’t about to pass it up!
‘Course I will,’ I smiled, our barney dissolving into cuddles.
Craig and I had met on a dating app three years earlier, and that had been it.
No matter what the situation, Craig always made me laugh.
He just had a way of turning even the hardest of times into good ones – like this argument that he’d just magicked
into a proposal!
‘Don’t go thinking you’ll
get me crying on the big
day,’ he winked.
Laughter was much more Craig’s style.
As we both had children
from previous relationships,
we planned a big wedding.
‘I don’t want anyone feeling left out,’ I declared, inviting our 140 guests to the ceremony
at St Chad’s Church near
Dudley, and the reception.
With everything sorted
and paid for
a month before the big day,
me and six
of my besties headed off
to Butlin’s in Skegness for their 80s weekend.
It was the perfect hen
party for me!
'Oh my God! What are you girls like?'
I couldn’t wait to hang with my girls. Most of them had been pals since school, and we were so close.
Arriving on a Friday, we
all dressed up as cowgirls and donned masks with Craig’s face on them.
‘And we can’t forget the
man himself,’ my mate giggled, handing me a personalised blow-up doll of my hubby-to-be.
‘Oh my God! What are you girls like?’ I shrieked with laughter.
After we partied the night away, the girls and I recovered on the beach the next day.
‘This is what Craig’s got to look forward to,’ I laughed,
doing a Baywatch-style slow-mo run along the shoreline.
The high spirits continued as we headed back to our room to prepare for another night out.
And then a memory popped into my head.
‘Remember at school, when we used to flip each other
over?’ I asked.
It was a silly thing we hadn’t done for over three decades, where two people stood back-to-back, linked arms, then one would bend forward flipping the other over.
‘Let’s do it!’ I grinned.
‘I’m up for it,’ one
of my mates agreed.
So we stood up
and linked arms.
Then I launched my feet off the ground.
Only my pal lost her footing and stumbled sideways.
Then I was careering through the air…
I landed with a slam on the floor, my neck squashed between my friend
and the sofa.
Blinking my eyes, I realised
I must have passed out.
But there was something else…
‘I can’t move,’ I panicked.
While I could move my head and twitch my left arm, the rest of me wouldn’t budge.
I couldn’t stand, I couldn’t sit.
It was like my body had been encased in concrete.
I couldn’t even feel it.
There was no pain, just terror.
How has my hen do ended like this? I thought in disbelief.
When the paramedics arrived,
I was strapped to a board, with my neck held tight.
Then I was taken to Pilgrim Hospital Boston in Lincolnshire by ambulance.
Just minutes after I arrived, Craig burst through the doors with my mum.
She was distraught.
Despite Craig doing his best
to put on a brave face, I could see the panic in his eyes.
What if I was paralysed
for life?
Craig had two young children to think about.
I didn’t want him being saddled with me like this.
‘If you want to walk away, then do it now,’ I told him.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he promised.
I was transferred
to Nottingham’s Queen’s Medical Centre in the
early hours.
Tests showed
I had fractured
two vertebrae
and dislocated
my spine.
I was rushed in for emergency surgery to cage
and pin my spine in place.
After sitting by my bedside for hours, Craig had just left when a surgeon approached.
Until that point, I’d had no idea what the future might hold.
‘We really don’t know what your recovery will look like,’ he admitted. ‘There’s about a 10% chance someone with this type of injury will regain the ability
to walk unaided.’
'If you want to walk away, do it now'
I was distraught.
But Craig rushed back
to my bedside.
‘That 10% is all we
need,’ he promised.
I couldn’t stop thinking that I might be paralysed
for the rest of my life.
Yet, I knew in that
moment that the man
I loved would be with
me, whatever happened.
Even as I lay in the hospital facing an uncertain future, he somehow managed to make me laugh with silly jokes.
‘What are you doing?’
I asked one day as he walked by the end of my bed.
‘You felt that?’ he grinned. ‘I’ve been pinching your
toes for the last few days.’
With Craig and the medical staff’s tireless support, I slowly regained some feeling in my legs and increased the movement
in my arms.
‘I knew you could do it,’ said Craig, who was making the three-hour round trip from home every day to be with me.
The accident had brought
us closer than ever.
When our wedding date
was just a couple
of weeks away,
I realised I didn’t want to miss it.
There was so much else that
we may lose. I didn’t want to
wait another day to become Craig’s wife.
‘Let’s see what we can do,’ Craig grinned when I told him.
We spoke to Michelle, one
of the spinal coordinators,
who jumped at the idea.
I’d imagined a small hospital bedside wedding, but staff
on the unit and Nottingham Hospitals Charity flew into action, arranging flowers, food and decorations.
The vicar who’d been meant to marry us agreed
to come to the hospital,
and we received a special license from the Archbishop
of Canterbury.
On the day, two healthcare assistants did my make-up.
I was then manoeuvred into my wedding dress and lifted into a wheelchair.
Yet I didn’t feel trapped in
my body as I was pushed up the aisle of the hospital chapel, Mum by my side.
I felt beautiful and loved as Craig, despite his protestations, sobbed at the sight of me.
‘In sickness and in health,’ we vowed to each other, the words meaning more than ever.
Afterwards, my husband and I had a little party in the staff room of the ward, with hospital staff and seven of our closest friends and family.
The medical teams were incredible, some even coming
in on their day off.
Thanks to their kindness, we had the most beautiful day.
I’ve now been transferred to Russells Hall Hospital in Dudley while I await a bed in a rehab unit.
I can now move both my arms, and I can twitch the muscles
in my legs.
My doctors are optimistic, but no one can say for sure whether I’ll ever walk again, or what more feeling or movement I’ll regain.
But the thought of having the original big white wedding we’d planned keeps me fighting.
Our wedding suppliers and the vicar have all agreed to postpone things to some point in the future.
I still have a long road ahead of me, but I’m hopeful that it’ll end with me marrying my husband
all over again.
And this time, I’ll be walking down that aisle.
Carla Bolton, 44, Dudley, West Midlands