I thought I’d try the sweetcorn test.

If you eat a tin of sweetcorn and the next day, traces of said crop are visible in your crap, then you know that your colon is functioning pretty efficiently.

To that aim I ( with the benefit of hindsight ) overdid it slightly on the Movicol laxative sachets and paid the price today – or more literally my lovely carer, Victoria, did.

The process of crap/clean up/ crap again /clean up was repeated several times and I’d never have managed it by myself.

There was however, no sweetcorn…

The tangible sense of care / love that I get from my 2 incredible carers is very touching ( and contrasts very starkly with the sad indifference of my daughters and STBE – soon to be ex – wife ) .

These girls ( both 27 ) are just adorable human beings.  I’m so very glad that I have them in my life.

Last night I ( sort of ) invited myself to a dinner party at Cress and Toby’s. Cress told me not to swear as she wasn’t sure how it might go down with the disparate group that was invited.

I heeded her advice, and can state that I dropped the F Bomb far less often than either of the ladies sat either side of me.

Thank you to the men there for lifting my chair over the 3 steps as I departed, and pushing me through the gravelly driveway, where my trike electric wheel would have foundered. I think Toby thought he was back at the top of the Cresta  Run, as he pushed me at high speed down his driveway at midnight, setting me free to speed along the A316 in the moonlight.

Amazing how considerate motorists are to a wheelchair bike, and how their behaviour contrasts with my memories of years of abuse as a cyclist.  There’s Good and Bad in that observation, but I’ll concentrate on the Good.

The sequel to Wallace and Grommets film ‘The wrong trousers’ is titled ‘The wrong spangly pants’

Thankfully, the Ancients had even made it wheelchair accessible..

Me, in my new lucky pants.

So… this morning, my lovely carer, Francesca, is assisting in dressing me post wash….

In the middle of the ‘ underpants pulling up’ process, i look down and say ‘ Fran, those aren’t my pants?’ She’s like saying ‘ what’d you mean, not your pants ?’

‘ Well I don’t have any Pringle pants’… ( I mean who actually does?! )

I ask her to pull them off and we take a closer look at the slightly spangly Pringle silver insignia on the waistband. Then I look at the size ( bigger ass than my own ).

My soon to be ex wife’s secret boyfriend’s underwear has been now been worn by myself….. which I’m very amused by…

Does he want them back?

I may have leaked a little turd in them? Who knows – I can’t tell….

If anyone out there wants a pair of size XL pre worn by ( at least ) 2 blokes pair of Pringle slightly glittery insignia’d underpants ( in black ) then please write in ….

Operation date, finally.

May 4th ( 2017 )

Phew.

Bloody brilliant to spend a day with my school buddy, Neil, after not seeing the crazy b****** for only 29 years. He drank pints of proper beer to my pints of shandy ( all day ) and I still felt rough the next day, so not sure how he must have been.

Like me, Neil’s not been so lucky with his health, and isn’t properly mobile. We resorted to him sitting his 14 stone on my lap, along with bags and a walking stick, and the whole 28 stones of us being powered along by my single wheel motor. Not ideal, but it worked, and we even finished the day watching a great band, The Brakes.  Thanks to Maddie for the invite, and to Veronica for her help back. A former nurse appearing when you least expect it,  comes in handy it would seem…

Thanks to Damo and Sal for inviting Pia and I to a Hen Party in Southampton… on Saturday night. The last Hen Party I went to was actually Pia’s, where I had the dubious honour of being the barely dressed waiter.  This weekend I obviously wasn’t, but nonetheless managed to at least contribute by suggesting very inappropriate games .. well, a Hen Party isn’t supposed to be dull, is it?

Thanks to Damo, Sal and Pia for looking after me extremely well, though I did actually manage to drive my car there and back. After 9 months of not driving at all, it actually felt pretty exciting, although I’d never have been able to get  into a car by myself, just not being able to get my legs in at all without significant assistance. That’s how it’s always going to be from now on, so I accept it and still appreciate the fact that once behind the wheel, I can at least do that part, and it enables me to visit more of the Good People.

Look at the positives, right?

Imagine a world where more people care than you imagine

Imagine a woman you’ve never met enjoying interaction with you

Imagine all those people you’ve yet to meet but who will value you

Imagine the relative freedom of a colostomy

Imagine quality time with your daughters who will love you in a way no one else can. One day. Really.

Imagine not waking up with that crushing longing

Imagine the truth that all your “imagines” or at least those listed will become your new norm

It’s truly the worst being a bird inside a cage. And it’s truly difficult to find words,precisely because I get it! No pithy little homilies here. You’re stuck in a Shitty,palpably toxic situation, but it won’t keep you down for longer than necessary. You’ll make sure of it X

Sounds like you have some great friends around you. You’re relying on them just now,but you prob have already (and will in future) return in kind. Friends…and least we get to choose them!

I never kept Get Well Soon cards in hospital . Felt like reading living obituaries, or like they were taking the piss… “You’re a fighter” they’d chirp. How the fuck do you know that? “Fought” paralysis lately,have you? Left up to me, fuckin things would’ve gone straight in bin. My Dad insisted on reading them (“people have taken the time”) and I was paralysed to stop the debacle lol. I say this only cos sometimes things are beyond our control…your “situational” stuff is beyond your control. For now. Only.

Well my digits are f****  after this crap. Know only that people care. I’d ghosted your blog for yonks before making a comment. How many more Dear Readers… do you have? Nice thought, eh? X X

Easter looked to be a bleak and lonely time for me this year. 

Thanks to Damien and Sal, to Leigh and Bev, to Cherie, and to Pia for salvaging it.

And to Eddi and Laura for taking pity on me.

Nev and JD, as always, fine men.

Imagine living in a place where someone says hello to you, and smiles in the morning.

Imagine living in a place where someone helps you with a smile, to get into bed, when you are unable by yourself.

Imagine a world where your family  speak to you and are kind by default.

Imagine a world where every visitor is armed with a smile.

Imagine a world where your every word isn’t questioned and scrutinised.

Imagine a world where you don’t always feel awkward asking for help, and that it’s freely given upon request.

Imagine a world where hours pass without a sad thought.

Imagine a home where you can rely on there being a friend at hand, who is consistently true to their word.

Just imagine.

‘BTW, yes the boat race and most other live events are televised with a delay for exactly the reason you thought x’