No Standing Room Only

By E J Urmston

When David, a seasoned paratrooper, is wounded in Afghanistan and confined to a wheelchair, he falls into a deep depression and begins to contemplate taking his own life. Unaware of the devastating consequences that would ensue, David struggles to find hope in the face of his worst nightmare. But through the love and loyalty of those around him, he comes to realize that heroism and love can conquer even the darkest of circumstances. 'Literature from the heart' is the guiding principle behind David's story, a poignant tale of love, loss, and the strength of the human spirit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9781035811526

E J Urmston

The Auther served in the army during the Cyprus campaign, where she was married to a member of H.M Navy. She later worked as a casualty nurse in the NHS, before going on to help her late husband set up his business when he left the service. On early retirement she took part time employment caring for young men with disabilities. Her usual genre is poetry, which has been published in the past and short stories. This is her first novel and was inspired by personal experience and observations of life.

Book preview

About the Author

The Auther served in the army during the Cyprus campaign, where she was married to a member of H.M Navy. She later worked as a casualty nurse in the NHS, before going on to help her late husband set up his business when he left the service. On early retirement she took part time employment caring for young men with disabilities. Her usual genre is poetry, which has been published in the past and short stories. This is her first novel and was inspired by personal experience and observations of life.

Copyright Information ©

E J Urmston 2023

The right of E J Urmston to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

The story, the experiences, and the words are the author’s alone.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035811519 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035811526 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Prelude

Afghanistan 2010

Out of calmness and order, suddenly chaos. An explosion on the road was followed by rapid gunfire, while bits of flying metal whipped up clouds of dust from the arid terrain, making visual contact almost impossible. The leading armoured vehicle had taken the worst of the blast and now lay immobile, preventing any further progress along the road. Ambush! men shouted as they returned fire through the gloom, aiming at any alien thing that moved. A tall man sprang from a second vehicle endeavouring to give orders above the din, the sand brushing his face as he struggled to make himself heard. His action was short-lived. A sharp pain in his side took his breath – he heard the clink of metal as he hit the ground then darkness closed in and he neither heard nor felt anything, for him this conflict was over.

Sometime later, in a dreamlike state, he became aware of someone bending over him and a familiar voice frantically shouting, Major! Major, can you hear me? He could hear but lacked the power to answer, speech had deserted him, but he found the strength to snatch at the sleeve of the questioner, showing that he heard. The result was a ,sigh of relief from the wearer then darkness closed in once again. He didn’t see the stretcher that lifted him onto the helicopter, the one that carried him away from the mayhem or the aircraft that brought him back to his homeland – all the while his life hanging by a thread.

Chapter 1

From cloudy darkness, consciousness began to emerge. Slowly at first, then as if a light had been switched on, he opened his eyes. His first thought of, Where am I? quickly vanished as a cursory glance at his surroundings told him exactly where he was. He was in a hospital bed, tubes streaming from every orifice, surrounded by curtains, in a dimly lit room with machines on either side of his bed, one of which was beginning to sound like his microwave oven. Almost immediately, a phantom figure appeared from behind the curtains, approached the bed and switched off the beeper. The figure then seemingly transformed itself into a man of flesh and blood who stood regarding him with keen interest.

So you have decided to return to us, major…er… he said, before peering at the chart above the bed, Major David Ingles, I must apologise for not being familiar with your name. We didn’t have time to become acquainted this morning when you were hastily wheeled into theatre. I’m Roger Dace, your surgeon. My team and I successfully dug some nasty pieces of metal out of your spine. It was a near thing, missing your left lung by a whisker and fortunately, apart from the loss of blood, no other major organs were damaged, so you’ll be pleased to know you still have your arms and legs and all your other bits and pieces.

Oh hell, the man has a warped sense of humour, observed the patient.

Can you wriggle your fingers for me? Yes, he could wriggle his fingers. Good, Dace continued, but don’t expect to be able to wriggle anything else for a while. Seeing a look of alarm on his patient’s face he added, Don’t read too much into that, we’ve put you into a type of splint to keep your spine stabilised and before you ask about any long-term effects, we don’t know, and we won’t know for some time. You can have sips of water for your dry mouth, only sips, mind you. We’ll keep all the intravenous fluids going for a while. I think that’s enough for now. I’ll be along with my team in the morning, when you will be feeling more yourself and we’ll discuss your further treatment. Now, I’m going off duty, I’ve had rather a long day. Is there anything you want to ask before I go? No? In that case, I’ll wish you goodnight and try not to worry too much, leave all the worrying to us. And with that, he disappeared back behind the curtains where he could be heard talking to someone in the corridor then all became quiet.

David Ingles lay back in his bed trying to take it all in. His head was humming, everything hazy and dreamlike, the only word he was able to retain from the information he was given, was the word spine and it troubled him. While he was dwelling on this, a young man walked in carrying a tray. He called him over. Nurse, can you spare a minute?

Yes, of course, sir, what is it? By the way, my name’s Jerry.

"I know this sounds crazy but tell me, am I in the UK?"

Of course, sir.

Where exactly?

The Queen Elizabeth’s Hospital, Birmingham.

I don’t know how I came to be here, I thought I was at Camp Bastion.

You were, they sent you on to us or rather Mr Dace.

Mr Dace, he’s the doctor who just came to see me. He rattled on about my injuries, but he didn’t tell me where I was or why I was sent here.

He is brilliant, considered to be one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, Jerry explained, you’re in good hands, sir, you couldn’t do better. He could have sent one of his team to talk to you tonight. He was due to go off duty ages ago, but he wouldn’t leave until he was satisfied with your recovery after you left theatre but having said that, he is inclined to be brusque with patients. No bedside manner whatsoever.

Tell me, Jerry, is this a military hospital?

No, sir, we’ve just got part of it for the duration.

In that case, what’s this sir bit?

Oh that, well, I read your notes and clocked your rank. I’m ex-army myself, royal engineers, so it’s a force of habit. I came to administer some extra pain relief, which I have. Now I really must get on so if there’s nothing more I can do for you, I’ll say goodnight. I’ll be calling in from time to time to do certain things, keeping you under observation but in the meantime, if anything bothers you just press the buzzer and I’ll come running. I’m here all night. Oh, it’s the red button by your left hand.

Goodnight and thanks, Jerry.

Once again, the patient was left alone and as he drifted off into a drug-induced sleep, his last thoughts were of his wife Sally and of the first time they met.

Chapter 2

Having just returned from his first tour of Afghanistan, he was visiting his elderly aunt in the kitchen making coffee when the doorbell rang. He was about to answer it when his aunt called out, It’s alright, David, it’s the district nurse letting me know she’s arrived. She’ll let herself in, she’s come to give me my insulin injection.

Insulin injection? Auntie had never mentioned anything about insulin injections. He picked up the coffee and started to make his way into the living room. His mental vision of a district nurse being a motherly figure with greying hair and wearing a starched apron, was immediately dashed when in swept a slip of a