Gwyneth Aylott is a walking miracle. She has a scar that encircles her head by all but a couple of inches - a permanent reminder of the brain surgery she underwent following a massive haemorrhage only four years ago. But far from slowing her down, the trauma only served to spur her on to a remarkable achievement. Helen Mead spoke to her.

BY ALL accounts, Gwyneth Aylott should not be here. Yet she is as active as a spring lamb and as cheery as a children's entertainer.

Indeed, she would do well in the latter role. Kids love her cheeky grin and playful nature. "I love children," says the mother-of-two. "If I see some little ones on a bus I'll pretend to be a duck or a spider. They think it's great and their mums say, 'You're really good with them."

She's also a brilliant grandma to her eight grandchildren, whose ages range between eight months and nine. She loves to get involved, whether it's playing on the beach or jumping up and down on a bouncy castle.

Yet, had it not been for her steely determination and will to live, she would not be around to do any of these things.

Up until 1996, Gwyneth, 47, who lives in Wyke, Bradford, led a fit, active life. She enjoyed her job as a senior care assistant at a Manningham nursing home, and paid regular visits to her grandchildren in Brighouse and Leeds.

But one day, without warning, all that changed. "I had been to my son's in Brighouse and I went on to work. I got there, made a coffee and lit a cigarette - then my face fell flat down on the table."

Staff called an ambulance and Gwyneth was taken to Bradford Royal Infirmary. A scan revealed a brain haemorrhage and she was rushed to Pinderfields Hospital in Wakefield where surgeons discovered six aneurysms - swellings on arteries which could burst given a sudden rush of blood - on her brain.

Three of the aneurysms, on one side of her brain, had burst, causing the haemorrhage. The other three, on the opposite side, were still intact, but like a time-bomb, could have burst at any time.

With so many aneurysms, surgeons told Gwyneth's family that she had a 20 per cent of survival, and initially they could risk operating only on the three that had caused Gwyneth to collapse. In fact, she was later told that her outlook had been much bleaker.

Comatose, Gwyneth was oblivious to her condition. She says: "I was lying there with tubes connected to every part of my body - I even had a line going into my head acting as a drain. Apparently there were 12 machines around me.

"My family was frantic. My mum was the first to see me - it was really upsetting for her."

Gwyneth, who has two sons, doesn't remember a thing. "The doctors told me later that perhaps it was best that I didn't remember because if I had been aware of the state I was in I may not have pulled through."

Throughout her ordeal, her family were beside her. "They told me they spoke to me and held my hand, but they had to be careful because of all the tubes."

It was not until four weeks later that Gwyneth came round. With so much damage to her brain, no-one knew what her mental condition would be in when she regained consciousness. "My family were all worried how I would come out of it - it was a very anxious time for them," she says, "But I managed to joke with them, and I could remember everyone's ages and birthdays when the doctors asked me, so I was okay."

While she was in a coma she missed two special family occasions - her youngest son, Martin, 25, got married to his fiance Jacqui, and her eldest son, Stephen, 29, and his wife Martine had a baby boy, Jack.

Gwyneth was transferred to Bradford Royal Infirmary and then to Shipley Hospital for rehabilitation. She felt a bit wobbly, but otherwise - to the relief of her family - she was her old self. However, the trauma had not left her unscathed. She says: "The doctor told me I would be brain damaged. I asked what he meant and he said that because a lot of brain cells had died I would suffer from epilepsy."

But, typically, Gwyneth reacted positively. "I said if that's all, I'm not worried. I could have died and was glad to be around at all."

The following year she returned to Pinderfields for the remaining three aneurysms to be removed. "The surgeon said I would be in for about five weeks," says Gwyneth, "but I was in for only five days - I was ready to go home and keen to get on with my life."

Doctors told her that because so many brain cells had been killed off her speech would be affected but she refused to believe that. "I didn't take heed of it. You've heard the expression 60 to the dozen - well I give it double that."

The neurosurgeon in charge, Mr Gerry Towns, was amazed by the speed of Gwyneth's recovery, and put it down to her will to live. Says Gwyneth: "I felt brilliant and told him it was all thanks to him and his wonderful staff and he said, 'No, Gwyn, it is you - you are a survivor, you want to live'."

She adds: "It's just the way I am - I have always been a fighter. And I didn't want to go too soon - the children want their silly grandma to live."

She even managed to laugh about her ordeal. "When I saw how my head had been cut open - almost right around - I asked the doctors if I could do what they do in the cartoons where your head shoots up, spins round and steam shoots out."

Since her second operation Gwyneth has been largely in good health. She has had three epileptic seizures, the last in 1997. "I know it's going to happen because my head starts to spin. But since I've been on tablets I haven't had one."

In 1998 she suffered a slight stroke, leaving the left side of her body, particularly her hand, weak. "I was doing too much," she says, laughing. "That's the trouble with me - I can't stop."

As anyone who knows Gwyneth will vouch, that's an understatement. Last year, she was determined to prove to her family that she was well. Faced with that challenge, most people would join a gym. But - with no climbing experience whatsoever - Gwyneth opted to scale Britain's three highest peaks in one weekend.

"I spotted a piece in the Telegraph & Argus wanting people to take part in a walk in aid of epilepsy and the genetic disease neurofibromatosis. You needed to raise £350 and I thought, 'that's for me'."

Her family were not 100 per cent in favour. "My two brothers tried to put me off, so did my son Stephen. He said, 'Mother if you get there and don't feel like it, just tell them and come home'."

Gwyneth lived with Stephen at the time, and he helped her exercise in preparation for the trek. In June, she set off, meeting up at the foot of Snowdon early in the morning with 11 coach loads of people from all over the country.

"We set off in the dark. After a while I sat down and honestly didn't know how I was going to carry on in the pitch black. But then some others came over, pulled me up and linked arms with me. We all stuck together, encouraged each other and got to the top."

With the highest summit in Wales out of the way, Gwyneth went on the climb Scafell Pike in England, and Ben Nevis in Scotland - a total of 26 miles uphill.

"Afterwards we had a party at Stirling University to celebrate - it was fantastic, I felt on top of the world, like I'd really achieved something."

Gwyneth would like to get involved in more fund raising. But for the moment she keeps busy, spending two days a week at Whetley Resource Centre in Whetley Hill, a community centre for people with physical and mental disabilities. After having to give up her job at the nursing home, she says has much to thank the centre for.

"I hated not being at work, but health-wise I had to. I like to be kept busy and when my social worker came to see me after my second operation she said I looked really down, and took me to the centre."

She loved it and has learned skills including computing and woodwork, and gained a certificate in people skills. She also attends a centre for people with learning disabilities and works as a volunteer helping the elderly in the community.

But her greatest wish is to get back to work. "The care home has been so supportive and I'd love to go back sometime in the future," she says.

Having had a brush with death, Gwyneth now enjoys every minute of her life. "I'm very jolly - when I get up I put the radio on and have a singalong."

Smiling, she looks to the heavens. "Someone up there loves me. While I was in the coma I was floating about up there and someone said, 'Get yourself back down - there is some work for you to do.' I just want to live life to the fullest."

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