Read your blog. Hope you have a great time celebrating a year of not being dead. I and many others are happy to know you’re still here.

Now on my flight having left the chaotic-ness (if that’s a word) behind and able to read your blog in peace and quiet for once! I’ve been reflecting a lot recently on life that was going on this time last year and still find it utterly surreal that what happened to you did and how afterwards life has not been the same for so many people. To think how many lives you touched so dramatically and how you continue to do so and probably always will. I just want to hug you and cry for joy at how much you have achieved in the last year since we all thought we might never speak and laugh with you again. At least one person asks me almost everyday ‘How’s ‘your friend’ [if they don’t know you] Russ doing?’ And I always slightly struggle for an answer that will be worthy of the complexity of the reality without making the answer last for half an hour! And the reality is, without any solid facts on this of course, that you have achieved more in one year than I’m sure anyone ever has with your level of paralysis. And yet reeling off all the physical boundaries you have miraculously crossed must not, in my mind when I answer them, gloss over the endurance you mentally and physically face everyday, which is only witnessed by those close to you including me of course. I’ve also been thinking back to the moment I received the first text from Dani saying briefly what had happened and that she was flying out to Toulon the next day. Which was then followed by numerous texts from her and other people as the enormity of the situation unfolded. The month that followed was a total blur, for many others too, I’m sure, and although I was lucky enough not to be working then, so I could drop everything to not only fly out to see you and be a support to Dani and Amber, but the flip side of that meant that I couldn’t focus on anything except thinking about you and I couldn’t help but to crumble inside. I guess it’s my closeness I felt/feel to you and Dani and then witnessing your initial physical weakness and Dani’s incredible mental strength, (only imagining how bloody hard that must have been) made me crumble even more. What is it about ‘a year on’ that helps to turn the corner of ‘moving on’. Are you feeling it more so this week? For what it’s worth that deep sadness I’ve felt as a result of your pain (that even stopped me wanting to sing!) is just starting to subside. Maybe it’s because I now see you starting to return to a sense of ‘normality’. Going back to work, driving a car, being at the school gates……even smiling behind the eyes (and not just for the sake of people around you) …now the thought of that is making me well up, as always…..uh oh, and now tears are falling down my cheeks!…..
Lots of love for now Action Man darling…..who would have ever thought you wld be able to get your physique back within a year!

It’s been a bit of a full week.

Hours of physio and posture in the chair assessment on Monday, accompanied by my lovely former student, Arti, who now lives too far away, in Singapore..

So good to see her for the whole day

Tuesday, work ( good productive day ), followed by my first post accident curry with Debs n Neal.

Thankfully the following morning was NOT a toilet nightmare.

Wednesday, my great mate Roy, and I went to the tennis at Queens ( there’s posh ). Ringside seats in the wheelchair section – saw Andy Murray playing, amongst others.. A 120 mph serve got me right in the crutch , and I felt nothing…another advantage of spinal cord injury there…

We saw  a few girls we knew there, most notably Angela and Debbie, and probably drank more than we planned to, in the blazing sun.

Yesterday I went with Julie to meet and listen to Claire Lomas at the London Excel centre, at a Neurological Expo. Claire is a lovely lady, and a good laugh. We swapped wheelchair stories and had lunch together.

A year ago, would that have been a likely way to spend the day? I don’t think so..but it was fun, and very interesting.

Given the Expo title and the national venue, it was bloody hard to find a disabled loo though – shocking really.

Today I spend 2 hours with Cliff, trying to ‘offload’ loads of my shed contents that I can no longer use…then hours of physio, then a rather big night out to ‘celebrate’ my whole year of paralysis.

Ill try  to smile as the clock strikes 12.

Roy told me today that the first day’s riding in France was almost over – 10 miles to go – when I crashed.

Various hills had been climbed, and fast descents completed, all without mishap.

So much I don’t know about the trip that changed the trajectory  of my life so drastically.

The  people that came, all close friends and family, had, it would seem, some very big nights out whilst my life hung in the balance.

Its only natural, I think, when the chips are down, to almost overcompensate, to make yourself bloody cheer up.

After all, some of the best parties I’ve been to, have been wakes.

Dani, through her fortitude, and the example she set, ensured that no one cracked, I’m told.

And my brothers kept everyone entertained. Roy told me today that he realised that I was an absolute combination of my two brothers ..having got to know them in Toulon, in the waiting room of the hospital, and in various bars after visiting hours.

A combination of those 2 maniacs…. God, how did that happen?

🙂

Trying to straighten my bent body..

I saw one of my fellow school dads the other day.
We sat and talked in my sunlit garden.

He made me think about things in a different way.
He spoke about the joy that his wife and son had had when they saw me at the school the day before.
He likened it to ‘ a returning hero’ , his words not mine. A soldier back from a battle that had almost cost him his life, but hadn’t.
A battle that he had won, but at great cost to himself.
The wounds that to him were awful, didn’t lessen him in any way in the eyes of others.
The new vulnerability in him that curiously made him more attractive, not less.

I’ve thought a lot about what he said, and it’s had a big impact.

Of course,I’m not vain enough to think that falling off a bike is in the same league as say, winning a VC…..but aside from that the emotional effects are, he convinced me, the same.

Then I saw a picture, taken the other night at a party, of a guy that looked a lot like me. It can’t have been me, because I’ve always declined to sit down at parties.
This guy was smiling and having a good time, and looked strong and healthy, not injured beyond repair. Had he been, he surely can’t have been having fun?

I saw my psychologist today, and he said that the change in my psyche since our last chat 5 weeks ago, was ‘startling’.

Things no longer seem hopeless, and seem rarely to have a dark day any more.

Perhaps not exactly a returning hero, but definitely on my way back.

Billy’s stag weekend.
About 10 of us taken to a remote farm.
Barn door opened, big water storage vat inside.
All ordered to get in it.
Was almost full of water and us.
Top put on, no light.
Fear and confusion in general but reluctance to crack.
Was convinced it happened.

Was it a reflection of my life to come?

Longitude Prize

Is the link to voting a Cure for Paralysis as the prize winner for ten million quid…

Vote for it on the weekend if you think it’s worthy, and want to celebrate my Crash Anniversary in style….

This day, last year, I was retaping the handlebars of my road bike, in readiness for a 3 day trip to France.
I’d not done a lot of cycling in the build up, as my left hand was in plaster from a ski accident, followed by a bike crash on the way to work, dislocating and breaking my left thumb.
I wasn’t too bothered by my injury, guessing that it would all be fine in time, and knowing that even without training I’d get through the French ride anyway.
My last memory of England was going to the Nike store in Covent Garden the day before I flew to France. I can’t remember going to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Dani and my girls, that same evening.
I do know recall bits of the morning of Crash Day.

If only I’d missed my flight.

This last week I’ve seen lots of people. Kevin Young, my buddy from school, seen last 15 yrs ago ( once ) and before that 30 yrs ago… Came the other day, bringing beer.
Good laugh reminiscing and talking about a few people from school.
When you’ve got 30 yrs to catch up on, there’s no shortage of things to say.
I’ve seen Andrew and Lisa ( top night out ), been to Amber’s school again to chat to her teachers, been to work twice, spent a lot of time with Pia and Debs, met up with the lovely Issy, learnt to shoot an air gun with my fantastic mate, Rob in my garden – tin cans and proper paper targets, not next door’s cat – been stretched by Ali, had community physio with Anna and Louisa in the Hounslow centre,spent a great afternoon with Colin, and been to a great party last night near Brighton – thanks JuJu, was a great night.
I’ve also taken delivery of a Berkel Bike which once wired up to it makes my legs actually pedal all by themselves.

Yep, back on a bike then.

Sort of timely, isn’t it?

.. Have been pretty busy.

Yes, some half term sun in our small appartment in Portugal.
There, I daily flogged myself on the bastard son of the wheelchair and mountain bike – the Mountain Trike – pushing to the beach and back late every afternoon, avoiding the hottest hours of the day..
We saw lots of people we knew, all very kind in asking after my progress, some of whom had already been in touch with myself or Dani, or whom have read this diary, after learning of my little mishap.
The Oliver’s, the Stents and the Dallaglio’s, Kate and Rich, Julian and Mandy, Pedro and Sylvia, Mike, the awesome Phil KR – God, I barely bought a drink all week.

I’m sure that’ll change before long… and rightly so.

Is it a holiday in the true sense?

There is no holiday from the curse of paralysis, but there is ‘being paralysed in nicer surroundings ‘, so kind of…

Since my return I’ve been out to the Hogarth Club to join 200 odd others in watching the Groves Froch fight on a very large screen, caught up with family,seen Debs, Neal, Billy to name but a few.

Today, I’ve again been to work to sit with a colleague, and Hey Presto, even done half of an eye examination ( shared with a qualified colleague, who reached the bits that I couldn’t ).
It was on my buddy, Dan, who along with many others, has held off his test until I could personally do it.
I do hope I won’t keep ‘the faithful’ waiting much longer.

Today I met with Oszkar from ‘Head Office’ to talk through the refit of my consulting room, that will enable me to practise properly, once more.

Pia came with me , the staff were their usual delightful selves, and I enjoyed the time and conversation with my partner, Helen, who has had to deal with the aftermath of my unscheduled year off work.
I’ve felt very guilty about my absence for a very long time. To someone that has only had a week or so off ‘ill’ in 25 years, a whole bloody year has come as a bit of a shock.
I can recall the few occasions I’ve been off, clearly.
I had 4 days off in 2002 when, at my daughter’s Christening ‘party’ I sort of fell out of a tree, smashing in my right cheekbone. 3 days in hospital, a right sided head shave and a device inserted to pull my 3 places broken right cheekbone back into place followed. I had 2 very black eyes for a week and looked very much like I’d been punched in the face ( which I had, but by Tarmac ).
I got hardly any sleep whilst in hospital, as the thing I was wired to, to record my heart rate, kept going off and doctors kept rushing in to resuscitate me, only to find me wide awake. The default alarm was 43 beats per minute, and my normal pulse rate was below that, as I kept telling them, to no avail.

Then in 2006 I came back from Africa with all the symptoms of malaria, ended up in the Hospital for Tropical Diseases in Chelsea, with an ‘unspecified’ virus.
They told me that by rights, my various blood counts indicated that I ought to be dead, and looked bewildered that I’d got a taxi there, unaccompanied, only to lie down in the waiting room, wearing a snorkel parka and shivering in the corner until a nurse asked me what I was doing there…
I had 3 days off work for that.
A few weeks later I’d come back strongly enough to compete in the DW 125 mile canoe race, and win the mixed doubles with Roxanne, probably against the odds, but actually feeling amazingly strong all the way.

Then I caught the Nonovirus 2 years ago, lost a stone in 2 days, and had another 3 days off for that.

All fairly good reasons to be of
absent then, and two of them could easily have finished me off altogether.

I never once had a day away for a cold/cough/headache/stomach ache/flu – all those regular ailments. To be honest, I was just never ill. Although my lifestyle was very physically testing, it served only to make me indestructible – or so I, mistakenly, thought.

And then 10 months away in one hit..Christ, who’d have called that?
I’m sort of ‘reassured’ that actually it’s not that unusual to have extended leave of absence.
I hear it’s very common to be off for a year, for such things as ‘stress’.
I can tell you that being 60% paralysed is pretty stressful, but that it’s the inability to move my lower two thirds, rather than the stress that it’s caused me, that’s kept me away.

I saw two of my regular patients in the practise today, as I sort of wheeled about, feeling awkward.
They showed me so much care and attention, filling me with their gratitude that I’d survived and I’d come back from near death, to work, in less than a year.
They said that they’d ‘held on’ as long as they could, in the hope that they’d see me in practice, and were evidently so very pleased to have just seen me.

I must say that the people of Staines have been lovely, post accident, to me, many having sent cards and messages to me, and the lovely couple today were typical in the ‘welcome back’ that they gave me.

Thanks to Komal, for letting me sit in with her, and for assisting me today, in my first ‘comeback eye examination ‘.

It felt good.