“I’ll never forget seeing myself for the first time: the front of my head had been shaved, and I had this great big scar, which was still a little bit bloody, and my face was frozen. I looked so tiny, so thin and emaciated, with these enormous, terrified eyes. I was just staring at myself, thinking ‘That’s not me’. I literally didn’t recognise myself.”
Nat Barden was 24 when a devastating brain haemorrhage nearly killed her. It should have been a perfect day: it was August 2003, and she and her fiancée had travelled to the Creamfields music festival in Liverpool to see their favourite band. By the end of the night she was in intensive care, with the odds stacked firmly against her.
“I woke up with a headache that morning, and it intensified throughout the day,” recalls Nat, curled up on the sofa with her black cat, Simba. “I took some paracetamol with my lunch, then we went to the site.
“It was a funny atmosphere; normally at festivals it’s very friendly, but people were walking around looking really miserable, so we ended up drinking quite a lot, just to get a bit more lifted before seeing Massive Attack. That was one of the main reasons we went up.”
Before long, Nat’s headache became unbearable. “It got to a point where I was in so much pain I was kneeling on the floor, being sick. I went really white, and things started to spin.” Worried, her boyfriend wanted to fetch help, “but I kept telling him not to worry about it. I didn’t want to ruin people’s night, and I didn’t want to miss my band.
“In the end I was taken to the first aid tent, and my last memory is of lying on the ground with a slightly cross lady asking me questions. Everything was spinning – I assumed I was just drunk, but it was really frightening. Then apparently I had a seizure.”
