I work (for now), I love, I live, I have fun. Just with wheelchairs and drugs and spasms and stuff...

2 February 2018

Moving on. Grief and relief in equal measure

Phew! Yesterday was my first day out of work in decades and I’ve survived. Coffee and pastry in bed courtesy of my gorgeous, hard-pressed wife. Bit of aimless internet browsing. Ordered some mouthwash and a boxed DVD set. A lot of chat and ‘wowness’ reacting to the overwhelming tide of support and love flooding in from social media. Twitter, Facebook both busy. LinkedIn bonkers, absolutely bonkers. 450,000 views when I last looked, and I only posted two days ago. Lovely, lovely comments to warm my confused and doubting heart. Confused and doubting because even yesterday, I really wasn’t sure I had done the right thing. For me or for the family. More coffee by the sea to reflect and breathe. […]
26 September 2017

(Un)Happy Birthday to me!

21st. 30th. 40th. Decent excuses to party, nothing more… I’ve never really worried about milestone numbers as my youth boogied and boozed its way into the distance and middle-age snuck wearily and grey-flecked up on me. But I’m 49 as of this week. And the fact that in less than a year I’ll be 50 is… is, well, it’s weird. No matter that I’ve already got a disabled badge. That I can only manoeuvre my way around the house with a fetching NHS walker. That venturing outside requires a wheelchair and that I have self-catheterised for years. 50 will be a strange one. Probably. I got seven cards, two text messages, seven ‘phone calls. So far so normal for a […]
9 April 2017

Grief is Like a Box of Chocolates…

So my wonderful, beautiful sister passed away last week aged just 46. She leaves behind a brilliant husband and two great – and I think resilient – boys, 10 and 11 years old. Her death wasn’t unexpected, but she struggled on so very bravely at the end. Three weeks in intensive care, with the NHS throwing everything at her and trying every possible solution to help her pull through. Close, so very close, but tragically no cigar. Ironically, I was for a while in the same hospital, at the same time. Just not in intensive care.I was having my own tough little stay, but paling into total insignificance, as I knew very well I was coming out. Twice I was […]