I don’t think I dream an awful lot. When I do though, and I awake with a memory of one, I’ve not been in a wheelchair. At night, when I’m asleep, I get taken back, back to when things were better.

There seems to be so much in the media about paralysis and treatments and cures at the moment. It’s looking increasingly hopeful that a good therapy will come along  in my lifetime. Last night we watched Robocop Two… I certainly wasn’t expecting that to strike any type of cord with my situation.

Lo and behold … A cop gets blown up, severing his spinal cord, and more besides. He gets rebuilt, and dishes out justice left right and centre. The only bits of him that are human are his brain and lungs and one arm. That’s less than I’ve got functioning, and yet they do a pretty awesome job, there in the lab.

So… I’m gonna write in, to the LAPD, or whoever, and push for one of the next generation of Robocop conversion suits.

I hope they’re happy to overlook my ban for speeding in 2000, in their selection process…

Managed 38k yesterday – that’s the furthest I’ve arm biked so far.

My brilliant friend, Neal Watson, was with me all the way, stopping traffic at roundabouts and telling me to slow down at all the right places.

38km isn’t very far, I know.. Took about an hour and a half, so a bit pedestrian but it’s not too bad.

To be honest, I’m tired of pain. I’ve had enough this last year for a lifetime.

My shoulder is sore,  a large weeping patch of rawness.

I learnt in France a few years ago, after a nasty cycle crash, that raw skin wounds are best cleaned then coated in Vaseline. No dressings, no plaster, no horrible bloody bandages that have to be peeled off repeatedly..  Just Vaseline   – the wound heals, it all stays moist, and no cracking , oozing scab. Remember where you heard it first.

🙂

I’ve for some reason been thinking about the daft expressions that Welsh people use.  

Stuff like:

Whose coat is that jacket?

Whose horse is that donkey ?

See those two houses up there on the hill? Mine’s the one in the middle.

My favourite ( and perhaps now the most pertinent ) is..

It’s better than waking up dead….

🙂

The awesome Terry is doing the ultimate challenge in aid of his old cycling buddy ( that’ll be me )  This is his link.

Fittingly, it’s the Welsh Ironman, and one of the toughest on the circuit. Not very flat, Wales, see… Even the sea is on a slope…

Thank you Ice T.

https://mydonate.bt.com/fundraisers/terryrodham1

I’ve had brilliant help this week with just about everything

Cant thank Jay, Jan, Rory, Issy, Ed, Abbie, Millie and Honor enough for all their help, driving, lifting , cycling, mending etc etc. It makes life so very much easier ( and possible ) if I get a bit of help ( and sometimes a lot of help ).

I’d like to thank the generous Adam T for lunch the other week, and likewise Bret M for dinner, Larry F and Sarah for lunch too, along with Big James C for giving me a careful push along Chis High Rd, when I needed one.

Neal, Debs, Miles, Emily and Conor are all  being bloody brilliant too, nothing being too much trouble. It’s been good today, trying my best to coach Miles to kayak from my bloody wheelchair, unable to get in and demonstrate myself. Jesus, I can’t even lift both arms up in my chair without falling over ..ah well.

My latest and longest urinary tract infection has finally been treated. The pleasure of not peeing yourself cannot be underestimated, even though I cannot of course feel my wet pants.

Just had first crash on arm bike.
Discovered its tipping point as I went round a roundabout.
Now have only one arm and shoulder with skin on it.
Thankfully Neal was there to pick me up off the road.
Lesson learnt the hard way.

Am ok tho felt really down for a bit.

Was a bit of a shock.
Bad scrapes.
Felt horrible sliding across the road on my skin.
Got put back on and made myself do another few miles before going home.
Couldn’t just quit. That wasn’t me before and isn’t me now either.
My skin is the sort that weeps plasma for days, even weeks, so that means messy clothes and bed sheets. Yet more work for Dani. If you zoom in on the picture, you’ll see the plasma oozing out of my shoulder already…

That look of resignation that crossed her face was a familiar one – that oh no, what have you done now…look.

Two days ago I swam ( well, after a fashion ) 500 metres. It took for bloody ever and I swallowed half the pool, but I got there.

It’s my wife’s birthday.

A year ago yesterday I was flown back to the UK in a little jet, and wheeled into London Bridge Hospital, where I stayed  for about a month.

Every hour or so  I recall the sensation of starting to choke on my own lung secretion , prompting me to ring some sort of bell to call the nurse ( who was sat sort of behind me 24/7 ) to stick a long tube down my tracheotomy pipe into my lungs, whereupon I had to try to cough as  hard as I could ( about as hard as a canary ) to expel green/ yellow gunk from the depths of my lungs. This would go on for a minute or so.

Unable to speak still, I could only communicate by gesture/ croak, though it was nonetheless a lot better than it had been..

So I missed my wife’s ‘party’, some friends in a park in Chiswick, with trestle tables  and lots of  wine, I guess all in fact having a very good time, feeling able to be happy in front of Dani properly, now that I was officially unlikely to die.

They all missed the park closing time, so all got locked in and had the choice of scaling the 10 foot walls/gates or calling the Parky ( Welsh word ) to let them out. Probably mindful of the risk of falling…. and the consequences, they called the Parky, who chastised the 30 strong group of 40 plus year olds, like schoolchildren for a good 5 minutes, I hear, then unlocked the gates.

So this year, I’m awake, fully conscious, can speak, bought Dani a present, made her a card ( whilst sat on the loo yesterday ) – can’t beat a homemade crap card, I think – maybe I should patent ‘ madeonthebog.com’ whilst it’s available – and can even spend the day with her and go out tonight too. This time last year a sip of wine tasted like methylated spirits – now it tastes like wine again; at least I think it does, maybe I can’t remember how wine tasted before?

Dani’s gone for a birthday run – Christ, since my crash she’s adopted habits that were only mine before – hence my chance to write this.

Last week Alwyn ( my bro ) was over from the States, so lots that met him in Toulon hospital came to our house for a happier reunion – a really cool night at our house – was pretty emotional for all those there I think. Had I died, I don’t think Dani would have suggested a soirée, but you never know.

They could have got a crew together for a seance?

Toby (a cycling buddy) and Josh (his sixteen year old son) have just
completed a cycling trip along the Latvian coastline covering 400 kilometres
over four days. This was Josh’s first long distance cycle ride. I am
delighted that Josh wants to raise money for my charity ‘The Back on Track
Trust’. Please scroll down to the Donate button if you’d like to support these fine fellas.