It’s hard to put into words just how upsetting the day before yesterday was.

The arrival at the hotel, the grim long corridor to my ‘suitable ‘ room, the interminable unpacking of 5 months of pills, catheters, medical appliances..
None of which a normal person would require.

We organised my stuff, so as to make it easier for me to use.

Dani cried so much, far more than I think ever before, at the prospect of leaving me here.

It was, frankly, pretty unbearable.

We discussed just leaving, going back to London, together.

We practiced the push to the hospital, without her helping me, as would be the case for 5 long months.

Yesterday was better. A few groceries were delivered and lots of lovely people sent messages of encouragement, which really helped.

Last night we went out for dinner to a local, Very American eatery and talked a lot, about how if it proved too difficult, I had the option to leave.

Today we established that my bathroom was absolutely not fit for purpose, and they have now found me another room, making the impossible less impossible.

Dani leaving today added to my sense of isolation.
More tears.

I have spent the last hour trying to repack one of my 3 cases, not easy from a chair, but theyll come and help me tomorrow.

I also met a friend of friends, who lives locally. I think Cindy will be a huge help to me during my stay here. Thanks to Caroline and Chris for the introduction.

Tomorrow I’ll attempt the wheelchair friendly gym and get some desperately needed endorphins flowing through my broken body.

They had me walking, artificially, in a huge sling today, wired to 20 odd sensors, to see which muscles fired and which didn’t.
To see myself ‘walking’ after so long, with my emaciated legs, wasn’t pretty.

I longed for the faintest glimmer of hope that I’d one day I’ll once more do it for real.
After all, that’s why I’m here.