After being run over (don't like using the word 'hit' as that may bring up other images), I remember shouting out for help while laying face down between the edge of the platform and the nearest rail.
After what seemed like no time at all I heard a man's voice shout to the station workers to 'stop the trains'. Fortunately as the station is overground, the track power lines are overhead so there was no risk of electrocution for me or the rescuers.
Once the trains were stopped, the man joined me on the track and reassured me that I was going to be ok. I was fully conscious during the event (although even now I cannot remember the actual act of slipping and falling beneath the train) and managed to give the man, whose face I still couldn't see, some vital information like my name and age. I knew my mum was waiting outside the station to pick me up, so I was able to give her mobile number (probably not the best idea in hindsight as if they called it she would freak out), car reg (got the wrong car though, hers was in for a service).
After a few seconds, if not immediately, he shouted to other commuters to find belts so he could fashion tourniquets around my legs. Instead of just handing the 'equipment' two other people jumped onto the track behind me and held the belts in place. I knew something was up with my legs so asked for a scarf to be placed round my eyes.
The emergency services arrived a few minutes later. Looking at photos my mum took of the station car park, it seems all three major services were there - police to keep people away and manage the public, fire brigade to move me off the track and an ambulance to take me away to hospital.
I remember being rolled onto a large white plastic board, while still on the track, then being strapped onto it - two straps diagonally around my chest, and one laterally across my groin. I then though 'how the hell are they going to get me off the track'…after all there are no steps intended for such a situation. Luckily there were enough people to lift me and the board onto the platform, then carry me from the platform to the waiting ambulance. I distinctly remember peaking though the bottom of the scarf around my eyes and seeing a man in a full face helmet as I looked up.
I don't remember a lot about being in the ambulance - someone warned me of a bump, that must have meant I was transferred to a bed with wheels before entering the ambulance. Once inside I remember looking up and peaking around. I've never seen the inside of an ambulance before, but remember the side of the vehicle was directly to my left. To my right was a female media who was starting to cut off my jumper and what was left of my trousers. That's about all I remember until Day 1, from what I've since been told, I was pumped with ketamine and rushed off to Addenbrookes hospital in Cambridge.
Outside in the station car park, my mum was wondering what was happening due to all the emergency vehicles. She tried calling my mobile and got no reply so decided to see what was going on. At the same time a police officer had been sent to look for her and keep her away from the scene. The officer found her within seconds and radioed in to say he'd 'found the mother'. Naturally she was pretty keen to find out what was going on - eventually she got herself locked in a police car after being told that I was alive and talking. She was then driven to the local police station, joined by a friend and worked out that the accident involved my legs by questioning the officers looking after her.
This is the photo mum took and sent to my phone, before she knew they were for me!
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