I’ve spent this last week trying first to stay alive, no small feat given my recent run of luck, and secondly in good physical health.

Its important for me that I arrive in Louisville in the best shape possible. Gym everyday this week then – the arm bike, stretching and weights. Adam and Alison and Cherie have all done their bit for me, as always.

I I leave in the morning, to arrive tomorrow afternoon. A day to reaclimatise, followed  by the initial assessment and introduction to the medical team there on Monday morning.

I’m Both curious and nervous- this could lead to me standing up, all by myself, or possibly more, things that we all take for granted, right? Well not me, not any more. Now I take nothing for granted. Physical function and capability is every human being’s right, isn’t it?

And then it gets snatched away.

Maybe I’ll get to snatch it back?

There was a programme on BBC2 last night ( in Britain) that featured the work that’s being done in the South of the U.S.

The team in Louisville is getting paralysed people to move, feel, and stand up.

Its to all pretty incredible, but to the paralysed it’s  far more than that. It’s a glimpse of the future- that being a place where there is a cure for Spinal Cord Injury.

So click on/ touch/ copy this link to see what’s going on there.

http://bbc.co.uk/trustme

I’m heading to the same facility on Saturday for an assessment – the first step on the lofty ladder, but a big one for me nonetheless.

So having been henceforth condemned to the carrying around of an Epipen for ever, in case of fatal exposure to a hazlenut, I have also succumbed to yet another urinary tract infection.

If you don’t have an injury to the spinal cord I would imagine that it’s quite uncomfortable. For me, it’s more complicated.

1. My bladder just releases pee at intervals of about half an hour.

2. I am in internal distress all the time

3. My legs spasm and twitch constantly

4. My lower left back does too.

5. In self catheterising to release urine, (instead of it just spurting out), my legs and back spasm violently, knocking me over in bed.

I can’t say that it’s much fun. I’ve slept really badly, and am constantly trying to clean myself up.

I try to stay positive but it’s not easy.

Yet more drugs will resolve this.

I take more tablets in a week now than I took in a lifetime pre injury.

And I really don’t like it.

I do hope that my trip to the States next Saturday leads to something. There is absolutely no guarantee, but God, I am crossing my fingers.

Hey Russy Wussy,

Just read your blog from Wednesday……

I really felt for you last week, moving house and the emotional wrench that must have gone with that…..far more than just moving house, I know.

I can’t believe you have had to face yet more adversity, how terrifying and how much more do you need to go through? What was the cause in the end as it definitely sounded like annaphylatic shock but obviously not to the nuts….maybe you were stung by something that you are allergic to without realising? Dreadful to see how your lovely face reacted too…. 🙁 Did the docs give you an epi pen in case it happens again?

I think you are off to the states soon? Hopefully this dreadful run of luck will end with something hugely positive from your trip. God knows, you, Dani. Lily and Amber deserve that.

Thinking of you all and as ever sending you all of my love and positive thoughts and willing things to just get better for you.

Loads and loads of love xxxxx

PS you wrote in your text that you felt guilt for your accident and subsequent affect on the family. You shouldn’t, anymore than you would expect anyone to feel guilty for getting cancer. You were touched by a dreadful hand of fate and you never invited any of this. You certainly don’t need to feel anything other than proud of yourself for the way you have handled your life since 14th June 2013. xxxxxxxxxx

So, in the true spirit of getting straight back on the horse, I started the day with a bowl of nutty muesli.

As im still here, scribing this, I’m either alright or its my latest suicide attempt, and this is the last you’ll hear from me.

Ive already been given breakfast of the above, plus coffee and fruit by my new, temporary flatmate, but longtime friend, Colin ( aged 83 ), and visited by Dan, Pia and Debs, and texted and emailed by half of the world ( including Alwyn, Monique, Arti and Sandra who all live on the other side of the globe and therefore are liable to read my latest plaintive, moany posts that I write from A&E at midnight here, at say 11am or 6pm there) Thank you all for getting in touch, it does keep the wolf that’s trying to tear out my throat, from the door.

I shan’t go to work today, as I now look still like the victim of disabled hate crime ( mugging ) , with swollen eyes akin to the effect of being punched in the nose. I do read that this type of crime is on the increase – soft targets obviously – why I always carry a gun, pepper spray and a Tazer .

That last bit wasn’t true.

Or was it?

My life does f’ing suck, it really does.
Lying on a trolley in Charing Cross Hospital.
Dani tired and gone home.
Prob here all night.
When’s it gonna end, this run of luck?

I ate a handful of hazelnuts. Ten minutes later my eyes were so swollen I couldn’t open them, the 40% of me that can itch, did itch, my lips were swollen and I couldn’t really swallow.

The ambulance eventually arrived and I’ve had a steroid injection into a line into a vein in my right hand.

Throughout, my brave little Amber held my hand tight and said encouraging things to me, at one point saying ‘don’t worry Daddy, you’ll be ok, you , always survive everything’   Between words, I knew that she was looking away and crying, as I am now at the thought of it, alone here . Why is she repeatedly having to be put through this? She doesn’t deserve the trauma of my condition and repeated brushes with ambulances

As  I’m now on a hard trolley , I’m susceptible to a pressure sore if I don’t move my legs about to different positions ( with my arms ).

It seems as though I’m only just out of hospital and now I’m back in, in a non specialist unit. I fear for my health here, I must say. Apparently I’m here for observation though that’s the last thing they’re doing.

i feel as though as soon as a positive thing happens in my life, like the course I’ve just been on, then fate just has to knock me back down again.

Big thanks to Dan White, for yet again being there in a crisis and not panicking.

So day 3 of the Ind Course.

Lizzie, my chief mentor ( wheelchair 3 yrs, sporty and fit ) is stuck in a lift, between floors ). Thankfully , it’s after, not before, she’s visited the bathroom.

So. I am writing this post breakfast. I managed to get up, wheel to the loo, do what I had to do, have a shave, a dodgy wash, get dressed, and get out of the room in an hour.

Jesus, lots of women ( ok, and men ) with working legs, take a lot longer than that, so I did ok. I did manage to somehow scrape an inch or so of skin off my left foot in the night – lots of blood on the sheets – but it’s not serious.  Skin damage and pressure sores are the main killers of Spinal Cord Injured people, I hear, so I do have to be careful. The trouble is that you can’t feel the pain, so a wound can become something horrendous very quickly, sometimes requiring literally a year in bed. Yes, a YEAR.

We’ve done skills practice, car transfers, a night out for a curry… Floor to chair transfers, wheelies etc etc.

There are only 4 of us actually being trained, and compared to the others i seem to be doing allright  – as in I can get dressed, transfer to a bed, and a car, drive, am working, done a few sports etc. The others haven’t really done any of that list. It doesn’t mean that I’m ahead of the game, but that maybe they’re a bit behind?  Either way, it’s good for all of us to compare with eachother.

Today, more car transfers, including trying to get the sodding chair into the passenger seat. Hard, as my car is pretty short on cockpit space to pass the chair in between me and the steering wheel, and my bloody forearms hurt a lot too. Oh, and my left thumb.

Otherwise, I’m  a 100%…

And suddenly its our last night in our dream house.

None of us want to leave.

I have until 11am in the morning before I drive to Essex, for my Living Independently course.

I hope that I don’t ever have to actually live alone, all by myself… I don’t ever want that to happen, and can’t imagine that it would come to pass (Mind you, I didn’t see paralysis coming either) though my long suffering wife from time to time looks like she’s had enough  – and who frankly could blame her ?

Ive had a lot of lows recently, only seeing the negatives in my life, mostly connected with my seemingly hurried forced goodbye to the trappings of my only too recent old life.

To just move on and get over it is so hard for me. It’s not easy to forget who and how i was only a little over a year ago.

I’m Surrounded by capable and caring people, and am in the most uncomfortable situation of wanting them all to go away, yet needing them desperately at the same time. If any of them read this, please don’t actually go… I love you all dearly.

Work is a challenge for sure, I’m managing regular days, and I’m  told it really helps, yet fear that my influence from my chair is too little.

That argument is countered by the Frank Williams story, who from a wheelchair managed to build and run one of the most successful motor racing teams in history.

So far, I’m more Spencer than Williams, but who knows what the future holds.