All posts by Russ

Portugal.

Events

Here, via Gatwick and Easyjet 

I have to say they they were great. 
It’s easy to knock the bucket airlines, but to me, Easyjet looked to have it taped. 
Airport staff came to our aid at every turn ( and at no charge ), lifts appeared in corridors that weren’t there before. 
Staff were polite and sensitive. 
Far better than the ‘centre of excellence’ that is BA’s Terminal 5, sampled on my last flight at Xmas. 
At Faro they were even better. I think they’re not quite so hung up on the dreaded Health and Safety on the Continent, doing things with a more common sense attitude, including more smiling. 

My trip to the cinema.

Events

We went to the cinema last night, in Westfield. 

Christ, as a wheelchair user I get my own ‘box’ at the back – 2 seats , a lift etc. 
We saw ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’. 
Di Capprio as an 80’s trader, loving and living life totally hedonistically, until his inevitable plummet. 
There’s a scene in it where he’s taken a cocktail of drugs that kick in and render him partially paralysed. As he flounders around on the ground for about 10 minutes the audience are howling with laughter. I think if they had to experience that every day they might not find it so funny. 
I sort of switched off after that scene. 
Maybe next time I’ll go and watch The Smurfs or something. 

My last 2 days.

Events

I was taken out for dinner on Thursday by 4 good looking girls, there for my last night. 

I’m not sure what the staff make of me, having had more visitors in a typical week than a lot of patients get during their whole stay. Good for me, tougher for them, I fully realise. 
Having been wined and dined, I was delivered safely back to my bed. 
Thanks girls, it was a great way of distracting me from the very mixed emotions of leaving the safety of the unit to restart my life. 
I didn’t sleep that well, my bloody legs twitching half the night, keeping me awake. Ironic, isn’t it, that I resent the very thing that I yearn for, movement of my legs. 
Friday, I had an hour in the pool of trying not to drown, then that was pretty much it. 
I had a surprise visitor in a colleague, Baljit, who had coffee and lunch with me, and kept me amused for a couple of hours by virtue of her charming company, and then I bumped into Issy Bailey. 
Issy is 19, injured at the same time as me   
Pretty, vivacious and clever, she was 9 days away from winning her first Senior England hockey cap, when a girl she vaguely knew gave her a lift and overtook in a dark lane, resulting in a head on collision. The driver was fine, but Issy is like me, paralysed from mid chest down, with zero use or sensation of anything below. 
I feel so much for her, and so want her to succeed in life. 
She’s got the challenge of going back to Uni, living student life in a wheelchair in adapted accommodation, having the further challenge of having relationship(s) with boys, with all the ‘trust issues’ that would entail. Any girl/ lady reading this will feel her pain and anxiety I’m sure. 
Incredibly, whilst in hospital , she tried wheelchair pistol shooting and realised that she was fantastic at it, despite never having picked up a gun before. 
Since, she has entered various competitions and largely whipped experienced men at their own game. 
Given that start, it’s realistic to expect to see her shooting in the next Paralympics for GB. 
She’s so modest, she wouldn’t say that that is her destiny, but I think everyone else knows it is, if it’s what she wants…
Her family and young friends sound just incredible, encouraging and cosseting her in equal measure. 
Of all those I met, whilst ‘incarcerated’, she is the one I found most inspiring. 
Good luck, Issy. 
I got my proper wheelchair too, at the last minute, Dani collecting it from Twickenham and bringing it to Stoke Mandeville for ‘fitting’ to me. 
It feels ok, in as much as any of them have. Sitting in a chair isn’t like you sitting in one, relaxing with your feet up. It’s tiring, and after a bit uncomfortable. 
I’m told it gets better, but it’ll be slow. 
For now, the only ‘comfortable’ time is when I’m asleep, to be honest. 
I’m writing this, lying in bed, in our kitchen, at home, with the Olympics on. 
The falls the boarders and skiers have make me wince, looking far more spine breaking than the one I probably had. 
The difference, I guess, is soft snow vs sun baked french Tarmac and 25 vs 46 years old perhaps too?
Still, every fall makes uncomfortable viewing for me. 
I do hope no one there in Russia pays the price I have for their endeavours. 

A message .

Events
I am so proud of you. 

Congratulations to completing stage 1 of your recovery! You have overcome death, disappointment, despair, pain and a complete mental and physical transformation. Never once did you isolate yourself from your family or friends. You charged ahead despite the uncertainty even on the toughest days. Your wife and family have done the same. I am hoping stage two will be filled with hope and opportunity as you redefine yourself with the love of your family and friends and in the comfort of your home. You have done something amazing. I hope you can look back and give a toast to yourself for awesomeness (that is a word in Canada). I also toast stage 2 and all great things that will become yours. Just keep swimming superstar (well in your case perhaps swimming isn’t the best example) xx

M

A message .

Events
One more long night – I hope it is full of your friends and some laughter.  And tomorrow, ever after the sweetness  & the bittersweetness of home, and all that now means & entails. 
The difference in your Physical abilities in three months has been phenominal, as witnessed by your  selfie. And the mending of mind & spirt is evident. A little more confident, less cautious but not stilted I can see that your friends will have to work harder to keep up with you. And that’s a great thing. 
Sweet dreams, your family will be sooooo happy you are home! 
Bestest wishes 
X 

D for Discharge Day.

Events

Tomorrow I leave here. 

I’ve not exactly become institutionalised, but it will be odd not being in hospital. 
In some ways the real world will be much more daunting. Wheelchairs are horribly liable to tip over at any time, stones, twigs, kerbs all posing a risk of sudden ejection. 
Once out on the ground, I won’t be able to get back in. Not now, anyway. 
When I’m a lot stronger, and used to the whole thing, I probably will be able to, using just my arms, but that’ll require practice and confidence and a lot more strength than I have currently. 
I’m told that it just comes. I’m regarded as freshly injured – first year and all that – a few years in and it’s all different. 
Living life out there with everyone else again, but in this altered state, is a tough proposition. 
I’ve got to meet it head on, I realise that, but that’s far easier said than done, I’d say. 
Being 4 foot tall isn’t great for your ego, having had another 2 feet for 30 years, by virtue of the ones at the ends of my ankles to stand on. 
I dreamt last night I was running around. 
Waking to the reality, alone here, is still nasty. 
At least I’ll not spend too many nights of isolation  from here on. 
Can’t wait to see my girls nearly every day. 

Today.

Events

It rained. 

Again. 
Here I don’t really ‘see’ the weather, not like you all do, not like I did before, it determining whether I’d run, canoe or ride on a given day. 
I hope my business, in Staines, doesn’t wash away. 
The river is higher than I ever saw it, I hear. It won’t take much more and the whole shopping centre will be like Atlantis I hear. 
My brother, Stu, came tonight, along with Paul Lambert, who introduced Stu to chopsticks and posh take away sushi. 
There’s not a lot of that in Pontypool, not being much demand…
Stu pointed out that this week is the end of an era for him too, his weekly Wednesday trek to Aylesbury effectively over. 
I’m pleased for him, as it’s a shocker of a journey. 
He said his friends don’t even ask him out on Wednesdays any more, having realised that’s the night he reserves for his big brother ( now older, scrawny brother ).
Thanks Stu, for all those dedicated miles you’ve driven. We’ve never been stuck for conversation, these midweek nights, and his visits have brightened my every week. 
Paul was his usual humorous, chilled self. 
Not having known him well before, I feel I do now, and think the world of him. 
2 more days and I leave. 
No sign of my new wheelchair yet, perhaps it’s been washed away somewhere?
I’d like to have it for my 4 day trip to sunny Portugal, leaving Sunday. 
If not I’ll probably have to come back here soon to get it. 
I’d rather not. As incredible as the place is, I’ve really had enough now. 

Last night ….

Events

… I was taken out by Andrew Pelosi. 

I know Andrew via work. 
He works for a big UK contact lens company, called Sauflon. 
They make an awful lot of contact lenses, and Specsavers sell an awful lot of those. 
( and for the record, they make great, comfortable, high quality lenses ) 
Anyway, you could say that Andrew is principally a business contact. 
So what’s he doing driving from God Knows Where, to take me and my college Ina, too, out… and then drive the 3-4 hours back to Swansea?
Well he says it’s because I’m worth it, that he reads this blog, that he’s been touched again and again by its’ content. 
He recalled that our last conversation was where I talked out going on a cycling trip to France, followed soon after by 4 days in a tent at the Glastonbury Festival. 
Along with a lot else, I cannot remember our conversation back in June, and of course I never made it to Glastonbury either. 
My new tent remains in the attic to this day, as yet never put up. Maybe one day?
We had a fun night out, spending a lot of time talking about how different our childhoods in South Wales in the 70’s are to those of our own kids. 
I reckon we had more fun back then, having to make it ourselves, rather than it coming from the iCloud.. 
Ina had never heard of a slow worm, let alone seen one, or carried one about in her pocket for days. 
I don’t suppose sheep were a major feature in her upbringing either. 
Yesterday my lovely friend, Cressida, accompanied me on my wheelchair shopping trip to Asda. 
I wasn’t exactly big on the food shopping thing before, as I can barely heat up water, let alone make dinner. 
True to form, after some carrots, nuts and 2 DVD’s I ran out of ideas. 
I did though try self checkout, though that went wrong with the DVD’s 
My lack of competence was no surprise to me at all, and Cress had to go back after for the apples and oranges ( the onlyl two things that were actually on my ‘list’ ).
I can’t see myself doing a whole load of shopping for the family groceries going forward. It’s not really my area of expertise… 

Monday February 10th 2014.

Events

Last night I was taken out by Robbie and Neil, 2 of the lads from my ill fated cycle trip to France. 

We had a good night, and a great dinner. 
They talked about the trip, after I’d been helicoptered away. 
There was a ‘debate’ about whether they should carry on or not, my crash on Day 1 leaving 2 days to go. 
Should they drink, laugh and have a good time, knowing that my life was in the balance just a few miles away?
They went with the view that I would have wanted them to continue on the ride as planned, and to have a good time doing it. 
That was the right call. I’d not have wanted them to go home, to miss the reason they’d come. 
If it had been one of them, I’d have ‘voted’ to finish the ride, do all the steep climbs, sweat my way through it. 
I’d have gone very slowly on the descents though, as I’m sure they did, one calamity being enough. 
Great to see you boys, as it was seeing Roy – another great mate and rider – who brought me back here on Sunday – FOR THE LAST TIME on a wet, dark Sunday night. 
Thanks for your ongoing love and support, fellas. It means a lot to me. 
Russ