In 3 hours I head to Vegas.

I’m supposedly being met at the airport by Rob.

As Rob is possibly the only person in America NOT to to have a Mobile ( cell ) phone, and I’ve not heard from him for a week, I hope he received the post card I sent to his caravan 2 weeks ago.

I sense that people don’t really get my sometimes less than enthusiastic outlook on life, and my slightly pessimistic view of ‘holidays ‘.

Take the trip to Vegas.

‘Of course you’ll have a good time!’ I hear constantly.

So, let’s say YOU are going to Vegas next week.
Tonight you fall down the stairs. At the bottom, you realise you’ve broken both hips, and both legs too.

Your suitcase is already packed, and is there at the bottom of the stairs, next to where you’ve landed.

What’s the first thing that you’re likely to think then?

Sure, Vegas will still be awesome! I won’t be able to go in the pool, walk anywhere, have a bath, get on the toilet without people helping me on, I’ll have to be carried onto the plane, if it crashes I’ll definitely die, the helicopter excursion is definitely out, the nightclubs won’t be the same, but look at the upside, I’ll be able to sit by the side of the pool and wear my sunglasses…

Pretty accurate I’m guessing, that that is how you’d think?

Yeah right? The first thing you’d think is Christ, thank God I’m insured, and I can rebook it for when I’m back on my feet.

That’s why I’m here, on this program, so that I can reclaim my life.

Thank you so much to Lori and Ally, here at this hotel, for looking out for me, these last few days, in fact to all the staff here, for their kindness, knowing that I’d had a tough time of late.
And special thanks to Ally, again for her help in getting me to the airport tomorrow.

And armed with that bit of positivity, I do head to Las Vegas on Saturday to meet Rob, and Monique on Sunday ( after her 100 mile, 30 hour desert run ).

She’ll be all blistered, will be with her dear mum, I’ll be in a wheelchair and Rob… Well, he’s from Hayling Island…

It’s a weirder Combi than in The Hangover, but hey, don’t count us out just yet.

Massive thanks to my ever thoughtful Bro, Alwyn, for his help with arranging an appropriate room, and to the people at Caeser’s Palace for their flexibility and assistance.

And … GOOD LUCK MONIQUE!

Seen the shrink and had a 30 minute chat.

As expected I’m not clinically depressed, nor ( in general) a danger to myself.

The ‘key’ to getting on with life after severing your spinal cord, is ‘acceptance’, that yes, it’s crap, but there is life after, whilst paralysed.

I get that, but I wouldnt be in bloody Kentucky, 4000 miles from all my friends and family, if I’d accepted it, would I !

I’m here because I haven’t accepted that this, is it.
I want an epidural implant, and I want to recover as much as I can. Ok, so topping myself wouldn’t get me too far down that road, but it does suggest that I’m NOT satisfied with how it is now, and desperately want more, and if chosen, bloody hell I’m going to work harder than anyone to make the thing work on me.

And thinking this through, makes me feel more positive…

Also, I’ve watched 3 Quentin Tarantino movies in 4 days.
And that guy is definitely more crazy than I am!

I get fairly regularly Messages from lovely people Who start or finish the message with :

Hope all good in USA!

Hope you’re having a great time in the States!

Ok, so I know that the sentiment is well placed, but this is how a fairly typical day might go, and it’s now mid day.

Wake 6.15, as my legs are twitching, indicating that I need to stick a long tube into my penis to access my bladder ( done in bed ).

Pull on clothes ( that I’ve left on my bed ) whilst lying down.

Transfer into my chair, wheel down the long corridor, to the lift.

Wheel into the ‘breakfast room ‘ downstairs and put 2 bananas onto my ( unfeeling ) lap.

Wheel through 2 ( hard to push thro ) doors onto the pavement.
Put brakes on to eat bananas – no, you can’t wheel and eat at the same time.

Push for 15 minutes to the hospital, through busy traffic and road works.

Get to Frazier and have 12 electrodes stuck to parts I can’t feel.
Get suspended in a harness and electrocuted for an hour or so.

Get taken down, and electrodes put on places that I can only feel in a horribly hypersensitive way.
Further VERY PAINFUL electrocution for 30 minutes.

Gym, arm bike for an hour, really calling on my resolve to keep going – more about that later.

Another visit to toilet for ‘ In chair penis violation ‘.

So far, my day is, as they go, fairly pleasant.

Today I soon see the psychiatric people ( what on earth have I to get down about?! ).

Then maybe a visit to the semi friendly wheelchair cafe, for a salad.

It’ll be 2.30 pm by then, so only ten more hours to kill before I sleep.
It’s pouring with rain, so I’ll have to sit it out til the storm passes.

Then I wheel back to the hotel, and transfer onto the toilet, usually for an hour or so, where I have to do the most unspeakable ( truly ) things to myself.. that even I hesitate to write down in detail.
Then a transfer back onto the chair, 2 feet to the shower, transfer onto another seat, wash only the parts I can reach without falling onto the floor, dry as best I can, then transfer back onto the wheelchair, 10 feet to the bed, onto the bed ( having put clothes on there ), pull clothes on, transfer back into chair, 12 feet into ‘ kitchen area ‘ , one handedly get something onto my lap, from fridge, wheel to desk, put food on desk, and eat it.

No problem… All a doddle.

So sure, as you can tell, I’m having a fab holiday, here in America.

Living the Dream, me.

But keep sending the texts, only maybe with different wording….

Xx

Today I get my first chat with the Shrink.

I think in America, that it’s as common as going to the dentist, so I shoul sweat about it.

Not that I can sweat.. Well only above my spinal cord break, not below it.

A siren even goes off on your phone!

Now there s a ‘tornado watch’ here.

Alarms went off and we were all herded away from windows..

I thought sod this I’m off, before the rain comes down so hard I can’t get back to the hotel.

So I’ve just pushed back at record pace and made it whilst it’s just raining a bit, with occasional lightning.

The sky is Very Dark.

In that scene in The Wizard of Oz, where she sees all sorts of things floating up and past her in the tornado , is there a bloke in a wheelchair?

Christ, now it is ABSOLUTELY PISSING IT DOWN.

I ignored the phone when it started ringing. And the few texts that came, and an email or two.

I’d decided that I was going to make a choice for myself, selfish I knoe, but true.

I couldn’t ignore the 4 police cars that arrived, and the officers that wanted to talk to me, pretty urgently.

They said they were duty bound to take me for a psychiatric evaluation.
I explained that incarceration for a guy with spinal cord injury, was very likely to lead to bodily damage, and ultimately potentially far worse.

We compromised on me phoning my doctor and talking to him.
Doctor Mike arrived within 7 minutes and took me to his home.
I don’t think you’d get that level of dedication in the UK, on Easter Sunday?

So the deal is that I’ll have a professional to talk to, from here on.

But thank you to anyone that did get in touch, and that includes Beth, who was the first.

As I wheeled along the road, on the road, through the road works, I didn’t care how close the traffic got, or that it’s an offence to ‘walk’ on the road here in the States.

I’m Now at the Waterfront, the huge Ohio river just in front of me.

There’s no barrier between the path and the river’s edge.
I’m Strapped by the legs into this chair,and I know from my weighing the other day that it weighs 35 pounds by itself, so would sink pretty fast and take me with it.

I doubt they’d ever find any trace of man/ wheelchair combination. It’s very deep in there, and extremely cold, and fast flowing too.

It doesn’t strike me as the nicest way to go, but it certainly would be 100% effective.