I was trying to explain to my lovely friend, Debbie, yesterday, what it was like for me, earlier in this journey.
I’m not sure people realise at all, just how horrendous it was, though that’s perhaps doing anyone who is close to me, an injustice.
To think its about not being able to walk, barely scratches the surface of the reality.
I realised that I couldn’t move pretty quickly. That was bad enough.
What was very quickly coincident with that was the nightmare dawning that I’d lost my physique, I’d lost my identity, I’d lost my self esteem, I’d lost my personality, I’d lost my sense of humour, I’d lost my appreciation of joy, I’d lost my confidence, I’d lost my voice, I’d lost my looks, I’d lost the life I had, I’d lost the rapport I had with my children and wife and friends, I’d lost my authority, my independence, and my freedom.
And I was locked in an austere hospital, like a prison, with no friends.
That was then, and it doesn’t seem that way any more.
The bit about the walking still applies, but the other parts are reversible, indeed many of them have already been overcome.
I can see now that there is a point to me being here. For a long time I was convinced people were just being nice but actually, in effect lying.
Now I know they weren’t.