I had been invited to a birthday party yesterday. I didn’t go, as I can’t do parties any more ( it’s the height and volume thing – neither of which I cope with, plus a consciousness that people have to stop enjoying themselves to talk to me ..)

So instead I went out for a long push on my Trike.
I’ve had the tyres changed to a ‘ slicker ‘ variety that pump up far harder and blimey, what a difference that has made – it’s probably 60% faster, 50% easier to push ( at that higher speed ) and also I don’t get so easily stuck in places … very useful, that last factor.

Suddenly 7 miles was pretty easy.

Marathon next year, for sure.

I spent 5 long months in Louisville last year ( actually today is the anniversary of my return )

It’s the town that, to many people in the world still, is the birthplace of The Greatest sporting star that ever lived.

He has his own ‘ museum ‘ there – and I went there twice – it’s a special place, and even more so now.

It ought to be the most special place in the town, but Americans being Americans it’s not – that’ll be the Louisville Slugger factory and Stadium ( it’s to do with that other sport that they have, that the whole country gets very excited about, along with 2 other sports they get very animated about )

Despite that, on the date of Ali’s funeral, all the world’s cameras will be focussed on Louisville, and I think they’ll realise once more what a UNIVERSAL impact that Ali had, and to a lesser extent still has.

I’m sure that Pia will remember coming with me to the Ali Centre – it overlooks the huge river – the one that I almost wheeled into some months later – she and I spent ages there, and the memory of that experience is even more poignant now, than it was then.

Whilst out for a solo push on my Trike wheelchair yesterday, I stopped for a bit to talk to 2 girls.
They said they had a friend of the same age ( 20 ) who had 3 months ago been paralysed ( T6 level – diaphragm downwards – like me ) and was now in ‘ re-hab. She was talking very positively about her future, they said.

I talked to them about how it is 3 months in – you really have no clue just how paralysis will change every single thing; about how much friends matter; about how they fall away after the initial excitement is over ( the sad tale recounted by most of the Spinally Injured community ) leaving a few close ones, plus some family. I asked how close a friend she was, and she said ‘ very ‘. I did look at her closely as she answered, and her reply was sincere sounding, for sure. I said that it takes years, not months, to get past this injury, and that the real struggle may not have even begun yet – the mental one, the mental struggle to accept that the awful physical effects do not just engulf you completely. I asked her to be there for her friend for years, not months, to stay there and not to desert her, or lose interest if her friend seemed to lose her way, or her drive, or her personality – the injury takes that from you, it takes everything – and most people ( not everyone ) will fade away with those things.

I hoped I got through – I certainly don’t think I ‘ gave her a lecture ‘ I could have kept talking for hours, and I think she could have too, but I said goodbye and wheeled off. I fear for her friend. At 20 you have friends for sure, but not that many deep friendships, there just hasn’t been the time to form them yet.
Most injured that young have to start again with friends – the ones they have going off and getting on with their exciting transition into adulthood, quite understandably, and not having much time for their former friend, who can’t really join in properly with stuff anymore, so it’s easier not to invite her…..isn’t it?

It’s now the situation that I can’t lie down flat without my spasms starting immediately, forcing my knees upwards/ bending my legs. All attempts by me to push them flat ( with my hands after dragging myself first to a sitting position ) fail, they kick back up/ semi straighten / kick back up etc etc.

I think that the position of straightness in my spine must be so uncomfortable ( without me knowing it ) that my legs kick up to relieve the ‘pain’.
But I don’t know.

It makes sleeping difficult though.

It’s possible, it seems, to send me a private message via this blog site.

I can get the message, and read it…. But I can’t reply !

Suggestion to Steph K : send me a Facebook friend request and then message me on FB – assuming you have Facebook of course!

Russ

This is a picture of my school rugby squad – at the time I was 15, and the second youngest in the picture. The oldest lads were 18.
Anybody spot me??

One of the coaches, Phil Jones ( top row, on the right ) died suddenly and unexpectantly at about 50. I think about him often.

Of that squad of fine young and strong lads, who should (statistically) all be well, 2 are paralysed ( one a paraplegic and one a tetraplegic )
Ian Matthews ( top row, number 4 from the left ) was the passenger in a car that crashed, perhaps 4 years after this photo was taken.

I think of him often, too.

As I’ve asked around a bit and failed to find ‘ company’ for my outings on my Trike wheelchair, I’ve been going out by myself, which after getting over the very real ‘ fear’ of getting stuck somewhere and absolutely not being able to extricate myself, has proven to be ok.
I do need to exercise a lot pre massive operation to assist in my recovery – fairly obvious that a ‘fit’ me will recover better than an ‘unfit’ me.

It was being so strong that ‘saved’ me 3 years ago from almost certain death, after all.

I’ve lived in this area for such a long time, but really not explored it properly.
Now I’m doing that ( at least where I can go ) and it’s already shown me how badly I know the area. When you go down a path that you kind of knew was there, but never actually went down, it’s been a bit surprising what you can find at the end.

This stuff may not exactly be high adrenaline, but it’s better than some of the other emotions that I’m now used to.

Today I do have my buddy from school (that was a fair bit ago…) coming to visit – to accompany me on a wheel about – and that’ll be good.

I went back to the same venue as yesterday this evening, for another 2 science lectures by Imperial College, London.

They were about dead clever stuff to do with ‘ dark matter ‘ and quantum physics, but given in the very large back room of a pub ( and to an evidently quite scientifically qualified audience – well with the exception of my buddy, Mark, and myself )

At the end of the lectures the audience were all invited to take part in the also very scientific quiz, which took the form of 6 pages of questions and pictures and formulae etc.

Mark and I filled in answers to the 37 questions over the next half an hour, after which we had to swap our papers with another table, for the marking bit, after which our paper got handed back to us.

There then followed an ‘ anybody get more than 10 ?’ opening question, at which most of the room put their hands up.
The number of marks question slowly increased to ‘ anybody get 30 out of 37?’ and Mark’s hand was still up..along with 3 others.

There was tension in the room as it rose to 34 – one other guy plus us.

At 35 the other ( very nerdy looking ) fella put his hand down, stood up and clapped Mark and I – pretty good, given one of us had been written off in Toulon hospital less than 3 years ago as being very unlikely to recover speech and rational thought.
The rest of the room joined in and the applause became almost embarrassing.

When I say almost, it was because I’d actually blagged our way in there, saying that I’d bought tickets on line, when in fact I hadn’t ( as it had said it was SOLD OUT )

That and the other thing.
That, despite the organisers all being INCREDIBLY intelligent, they hadn’t factored in the morality of a Welsh guy in the room who’d been there the night before, where they’d had the SAME quiz sheet of 37 questions, and had remembered all of the answers.

The bloody bare faced cheek of Mark Pritchard, to climb the stage and accept the prize (usual collection of goodies – plasma TV, new lap top etc ) was nothing short of impressive…

A night without spasms ?
A deep sleep?

What happened there?

I’d spasmed like I was being electrocuted for the 45 minutes i was in the MRI tube yesterday – which would have rendered the scan a waste of time – they need you to keep perfectly still…
And then spasmed a lot pre getting into bed.

Then.. Nothing?

I try to backtrack and work stuff out.
Was it the 2 pints of lager shandy?
Was it the psychological effect of listening to a lecture on the ( deadly ) effects of the ‘ primary shock wave ‘ that kills people ( instantly or after a while ) that hits you just before the flying debris does in a bomb blast?

I really don’t know, and I don’t anticipate a second peaceful night.

But one was good.

My spasms as I lie in bed are ‘violent’ in their hard jerking.

It’s I suspect another UTI, and signals a poor sleep ahead.
As I do intend being at work tomorrow, it doesn’t help me.

Today Dani and I went along the river ( Thames ) tow path for an hour or so in Chiswick.

Damn, it’s all so sad and nostalgic for me seeing the place I’d put my kayak in and paddle for hours in either direction, depending on the tidal flow.
The river, for miles and miles each way is so packed with memories that it’s so hard to look at it and have a calm mind.

I’ll stay awake as long as I can ( despite feeling very tired ) in the hope that I might fall asleep and stay asleep.