Is he shocked when he is told about this period? “From a personal point of view, it feels like a pre-death, because it’s a nothingness. Then when Emma tells me what she was doing and how she and the family responded, I get a bit overwhelmed with emotion.” Not for himself, he stresses, but for them. “When the phone rang, you didn’t know if it would be the doctor saying: we’re doing this, doing that, or: sorry, he’s gone. I find that quite difficult to cope with. Yep.” He swallows loudly.
After he came round, Rosen spent three weeks rehabilitating in another hospital. He didn’t have a clue what kind of man would emerge. “I couldn’t stand up, so I thought: ‘Oh, I’m the kind of person who can’t stand up,’ and there was a bit of me that resigned myself to the fact that I would be in a wheelchair. Then I got to stand up with the Zimmer thing and I thought: ‘Oh, I know, I’m a Zimmer person.’ But the occupational therapists never accept no. I got from a Zimmer to a walking stick. I gave it a nice friendly name. Sticky McStick Stick.” As he tells the story, I can already picture the illustrated book of him learning to walk again. “By the time I came home, I was just weaning myself off the stick.”