As Lisa's train approached the platform, she suddenly slipped...
Getting my book out of my handbag, I sank back into my seat.
I’m on the train, see you soon, I texted my brother Joe.
One of eight siblings, we were a close family, and I visited Joe twice a month.
It was a great chance to catch up and see my one-year-old niece.
When I finally got there, I could smell steak cooking.
‘It’s making me hungry!’ I called to Joe.
We all sat around the table and tucked into our delicious dinner.
Then, I had a quick cuddle with my niece before her 7pm bedtime.
To make sure I didn’t get home late, I headed off not long after.
After saying my goodbyes,
I opened the door to find rain hammering down.
‘Oh great,’ I mumbled, as I walked quickly to the station.
When I got to the platform, the train was arriving.
Thank goodness I made it!
I thought.
I headed to the far end, thinking I’d be able to hop on one of the front carriages.
But suddenly, I slipped into the gap between the train and the platform.
A split second later, I felt a thwack.
'Please can you get an ambulance'
The train had hit me!
Somehow I was being spun around, and I felt a hard tug on my left leg as the wheels of the train made contact.
Then, I felt a tear.
I hope that’s only my foot, I thought.
When the train came to a stop, I was wedged between it and the platform.
Then, I looked down in horror.
Most of my left leg had been ripped off and was nowhere to be seen.
There was blood everywhere and the pain quickly set in.
It was excruciating.
But no one could see or
hear me.
I flattened myself against the side of the platform.
I hoped it would be enough to prevent the train running me over as it left.
My heart was beating out of my chest as it picked up speed and finally disappeared.
‘Help!’ I screamed.
I have to get out of here before another train comes, I panicked.
Trying to stand on my right foot, I winced in pain.
I realised it was probably sprained.
My only chance was to muster all the upper-body strength I had and reach up to the platform.
At only 5ft, my fingers just about reached.
After a few attempts, I got myself up and over.
As I hauled myself on to the platform, there were people milling about.
‘Somebody help!’ I screamed as loud as I could.
But shockingly, everyone ignored me.
I tried to take off my shirt, thinking I could wrap it tightly around my open wound to stem the blood flow.
But I just didn’t have the strength.
Instead, I used both hands to squeeze it as hard as I could.
Eventually, a ticket collector heard my yells and came running over.
‘Please can you get an ambulance,’ I said.
He ran off for help and came back with a police officer who, thankfully, had been in the
car park.
‘Here, I’ve got
a tourniquet,’
he said, wrapping
it around my leg.
The pain was unlike anything
I’d ever felt before.
While we waited for some back-up, every minute felt like
an hour.
I clenched my teeth, crying through the agony.
Eventually, more officers arrived.
‘Shouldn’t I be in shock or have blacked out?’ I asked. ‘Why can I feel all the pain?’
‘Normally you would be,’ one of them replied.
Then, the ambulance came and I was carefully placed on a stretcher
and given an IV drip for the pain.
‘I’ve got to think of the positives — at least I’ll get half-price pedicures from now on,’ I joked with the paramedics.
I’d always had an upbeat outlook on life.
Five minutes later, we got to the trauma unit and I was rushed in for emergency surgery.
An hour later, I woke from the anaesthetic.
‘We cleaned all the dirt and gravel from the wound,’ a doctor said.
Still drowsy from the medications, I dozed on and off.
The next time I woke up, five of my family were around my bed in tears.
‘I’m OK,’ I told them as they hugged me.
Later, the doctor warned me that they might not be able to save my left knee.
‘I’m afraid you’ll need an above-the-knee amputation,’ he told me the next day.
Because I’d expected it, I took the news calmly.
A few days later, I had the operation, and when I came around and saw most of my leg was missing, I felt strangely OK.
I’m just so lucky to be alive,
I thought.
'Nothing is going to keep you down'
‘I want to try to walk,’ I told
the nurse.
There was no time like the present.
I hauled myself out of bed
and the nurse handed me some crutches.
As I took one step, and then another, the pain in my leg was manageable.
Knowing that my mum was coming to visit, I made my way down the corridor.
When she saw me walking towards her, she burst into tears.
‘You’re so amazing! Nothing
is going to keep you down,’
she said.
‘You’ve got that right,’ I smiled.
Determined to get better quickly, I made sure to get up on my crutches a few times a day.
Other times, I used a wheelchair.
The hardest part was getting my bandages changed. Every time, the pain was terrible.
I quickly learnt how to get around on my own and do normal daily tasks without help.
With my 30th birthday fast approaching, my family began organising a party.
We came up with a glam-putation theme.
I was happy to embrace my stump, because it was a reminder that I’d survived.
So, I asked for stump-shaped foods like carrot sticks.
As I had a room to myself, we were allowed to play music and put decorations up.
The hospital staff joined us and we all had a blast. I felt so lucky to have so much support.
After two weeks, I was moved to a physical rehabilitation centre, where staff were shocked at how much I could already do on my own.
‘I’m not planning on changing the way I live, so I need to learn how to do everything,’ I told them.
My positive attitude drove me.
Staff took me out on to the streets for training.
They taught me how to get
up and down from kerbs, and what to do if I fell.
Then, I learnt how to get on and off trains by myself too.
There was no way I was going to let
the incident stop me from using one again.
After 10 days, I was allowed home.
A shower bench was installed in my bathroom and railings put around my bed.
I also had a rest to perch my stump on when I was standing.
I looked into getting a prosthetic, and now it’s in the process of being made for me.
It’s only been four months, but I’m already back in the gym and swimming again like I used to before the accident.
I rarely use my wheelchair
and walk a mile every day to keep active.
Granted, it’s much harder with crutches, but using them is such a good workout, I’m in the best shape of my life!
It’s so surreal looking back to the day I was hit by a train.
Very few people survive that, so I’m just incredibly grateful.
I may have lost a limb, but I haven’t lost my determination to live the best life possible.
Lisa Fitzgerald, 30