I can still remember when that music used to make me smile

At 16, I fell in love with a boy. Ballet, which since I was two had been my main love alongside my pony - yes, I was a spoiled brat :), fell to second place. A first love is a powerful thing, no one ever really matches up and when they are no longer alive to be realistically compared to (age, habits etc), they take on an almost iconic status.

So, one night in the hottest summer England has ever had, we went out on his motor bike. We saw friends, had a coffee, drove around just enjoying being together and the warm summer evening. We stopped for a soft drink, talked and then about 10pm decided to go home.

I climbed onto the bike behind him, arms tight around him for what would be the last time. How much tighter would I have squeezed him if I'd known?

Two miles down the road my memory goes ... bits of it are engraved forever on my soul, some bits will thankfully never, ever come back.

I remember lights, noise, a sense of slow motion chaos; a large and vomiting man stood over me, swearing and saying sorry. There was no pain, just confusion.

Then moments of clarity; blue lights, someone trying to get my jacket off (and me cursing at them as they were using scissors on my new leather jacket), being suspended upside down.

The ambulance team who picked me up off the road, removed what was left of my leg from the engine of the bike and then suspended me upside down saved my life. That man, who I do not know, turned me upside down to keep what little blood there was in my brain on the journey to the hospital and held me tight against him on the short journey whilst my blood pumped all over him.
He was an angel.

Things were hazy for a while; white, sharp, blinding, confusing. Then one day I woke up and found myself in a hospital bed, and I was 17. I'd missed my birthday. I'd been taken to a military hospital (nearest one) and was dead when I got there, but thanks to the ambulance man, my brain was still ok and I was revived and filled with blood. Transfusion was a constant process and they said afterwards I had upwards of 40 pints of blood. A neg too, nothing common :)

The doctor told me that I had lost my leg, which I refused to believe. Phantom limb is a common thing and I could and still can 'wriggle my toes' and 'circle my ankle', I can feel every movement. Phantom limb also brings Phantom Pain, which is beyond pain; if you can imagine being tortured by fire whilst having long needles shoved through the flesh, I think it would be about 1/100th of what it is like. Thankfully it diminishes over the years, but never really goes away.

Back to the leg: it had gone and was replaced by a huge, puffy blood soaked bandage. It was the most surreal moment of my life.

The Doctor explained that I had to look at, to accept it now and then as I was doing so, told me that my love had died of brain injuries.

I also had a broken pelvis, fractured skull, had bitten the end of my tongue off (which they stitched back together), two broken arms, one broken wrist, 6 broken fingers, a broken hand, a broken hip, several smashed ribs, internal injuries and bruising that would make me glow in the dark.

This was caused by a drunk driver. Somone who thought he could drink 5 pints and drive home; safely.

He left the scene of the accident but was traced a few days later. No action was taken as most of us involved were dead or incapable of describing what happened.

They took photographs of my leg and put them in a text book (I had to sign and give permission) as they'd never seen a knee so smashed.

I spent 4 months in hospital, 8 months learning to walk again with a prosthetic leg. The physiotherapy is tough but necessary and often hurt more than than the injuries. But it was necessary and made me tough.

For someone who had danced and spun her way through life, I was now a sack of potatoes. That hurt the most, the loss of grace, elegance and high heels.

My love died, my friend (who was on the other motorbike he hit, died too and another was as injured as me. Sadly, he was unable to accept what happened to him and his life is sad).

The physical injuries I received healed but left their mark. I have severe osteoarthritis in many joints, the broken bits ache or don't work well. Internal complications mean that my health is poor and I have to take extra care of how I live, eat, cook.

I take strong painkillers all day and at night, the pain wakes me every hour or so. There is no cure, now or ever for that. I live with it and the knowledge that physically, I am diminished. Walking on a prosthetic is painful, ugly and can never, no matter how good it is, replace the warm flesh that once existed.

Still, I used the brain, so carefully preserved by my 'angel'. I have two wonderful children, a good career and love in my life.

Nothing will ever replace my losses. Life is exhausting sometimes but there are advantages. My metabolic rate, as with all amputees increased as I use twice as much energy as 'normals' to move. My arms, from using a crutch to walk and extra effort to swim, means that I have fab arms (no 'bingo wings', and my remaining leg has muscles an athlete would be proud of. I look great (until I move) :)

I learned to appreciate other things; to admire beauty and health in others, to be glad for them, not envious. To see the joy in movement and appreciate dance again.

Would I change this? No.

I would rather be me, with so many broken bits, so many imperfections than be the drunk driver who did this. I would be unable to live with myself knowing I had taken two lives, ruined the dreams and ambitions of two others and caused such hurt to family and friends.

Drink driving should be a zero limit. No alcohol, and those who do it should be made to serve their time, not in a prison but in a Casualty ward, clearing up and witnessing the injury, the pain and the God awful mess that it causes.

Drinking and Driving .... just don't.