Apparently the reason I should NOT keep a diary of post paralysis life, according to Rick, is that I ‘ use it ‘over use it ‘  as a platform to criticise my ex wife and kids ‘.
This is from someone ( lovely, decent guy ) who doesn’t actually read the blog, at all. As in never.
Ever.
Not for more than 18 months anyway.

Would I be correct in saying that it’s important to actually look at all the evidence, of ALL the things I write about, and all consequences of my injury, before finding someone guilty ?
Perhaps I’m wrong ?

Guess what Tweedledum does for a living ? Perhaps pertinent given my last question ?

He’s a detective, in the Police Force.

Shouldn’t he be out catching proper criminals instead of shooting fish in a pond ( thats me, btw )

Whilst his intentions are undoubtedly good, his conclusions are not evidence based.

I think I should be renamed The Brentford One….

I take on board his point, but I don’t really think I mention those 3 people an awful lot? I’ve plenty to write about, and plenty to say that’s NOT about divorce, I think as anyone that reads this regularly will agree with.

Happy to discuss though.

X

From Pia.

I think this is ( possibly ) written with her tongue in her cheek, but I’m not absolutely certain…

Re Charlie’s comment….
‘is it you’re too demanding of your carers?’.
How could he possibly come up with a suggestion such as this?…

All you’re asking for – is someone who shows all the qualities a Carer should naturally have, including the need to be: compassionate, empathetic, use initiative, be helpful and supportive, and understanding of your needs including what you can and can’t do, be responsible etc…

…And then of course there are the – not so obvious ones including:

Accompany you cycling 🚴‍♀- almost daily, keeping up with Triride going 10 miles an hour (often straight through red lights), covering a fair amount of mileage without complaining, and keep to rules including – not to cycle too far ahead , or behind (or to a storage company which was not being factored into the plan).
Accompany you to gigs the carer has never heard of – when girlfriend or friends are not available.
Be awake when you return from a gig (ranging anywhere between the hours of 11pm to 2am). And be perky and welcoming and not look tired, let alone – mention being tired or how late it is.
Be perky the following day, when you request tea, blinds up, doors open, more tea, fruit salad, more tea etc…
Provide meals (to someone who insists they don’t eat a lot) – and then not question a diet which is far from ordinary, and something you’d usually associate vegans or animals eating … and again not question extraordinary food combinations that are suggested would go well together.
Take breaks throughout the day, and never mention being tired if Carer hasn’t managed to sleep after gig nights, due to interrupted sleep.
Understand Welsh humour and not take offence, when the humour is clearly offensive.
Be able to keep up with conversation on pretty much every subject, show interest and have input into conversations, and make conversation without being prompted.
Understand the need for hooks, nails etc to be put into walls on a daily basis, and stand and assist – handing tools over whenever needed (and not anticipate which tool will be used from the ever expanding various tool boxes/draws/wall magnets).
Clean flat to an OCD level (which is justified as be ‘basic cleaning’).
Watch movies, which are predominantly terrible ones, but agree that they are brilliant.
Be up for listening to music at a high volume, but understand the necessity to ask other neighbours to turn theirs down at times….

Seriously?! You’d think Charlie would get that being a Carer in the Russell Dawkins household is blimin easy?! 🤷🏼‍♀

😂xxx

My last day with CERA ‘ carers’

It doesn’t matter that I say it every day- that he CANNOT give me boiling tea, as it’s so easy for me to tip it over myself and burn myself in bed.
5 mornings in a row I’ve had the same conversation.
He’s a nice bloke, and has no Malice, but seriously?
What the f*** is so complicated about my request for not hot tea.
He even goes away and brings it back, the steam still roaring from the mug, and says ‘ is that ok now?’ when it’s so overwhelmingly obvious that the liquid is still at near boiling point.

I have said probably 20 times to just stick his finger in and test it
– that I don’t care.
But he can’t do that, because ‘ that would be wrong ‘ so he risks giving me third degree burns instead.
Well that makes perfect sense, right?

Never give up the blog Russ !!
It important to others 👍

I saw my two buddies, Tweedledum and Tweedledumber ( aka Rick and Quentin ) tonight.

As i have a UTI and am on antibiotics, and they aren’t, only 2 of us were  knocking back thé pints. It was a very funny night, as both are dry, but not as dry as I am, but they did their best to constantly take the piss, as only the Best of mates do ( well if you’re from Wales, or The North, anyway )

As they got more pissed,  they started talking about this blog. Quentin has never read it, and Rick says he hasn’t for a year, but both were convinced that I should stop writing it. Understandably, I think, I asked them nicely what qualified them to have a strong opinion on something that they never ( have ) read.

They said it does me no good, essentially, or words to that effect, and asked what was the point of it? I said, as I always say, it’s just my diary and it doesn’t have to have a point, as it was never intended to, and not even started by me. I just sort of inherited it, after I came out of a coma.

Q told me for the first time I’d heard it, what the 4 hours were like in France that I lay in the road, as he was apparently holding my head off the tarmac,  my back broken, lying on 14 broken ribs, and pleading to be moved. ‘Just move me, please’  over and over, along with ‘ when is the ambulance coming ?’ over and over again.

He told me about those hours of trying to get French people to NOT drag me off the road, to let the cars go by faster, and how I’d died in the helicopter, but was brought back, and how that happened again after the heli had landed in Toulon military hospital.

It was chilling stuff, though I listened impassively to it, I have to say, it being from another life almost ( though in fact the first hours of my new life – that of a paralysed person )

Rick asked why on Earth I didn’t know this story? I said that I’m glad I hadn’t known it a year or more ago, as it would have been too sad for me, but tonight I was immune to the horror of it, which represents my ‘ progress ‘ from morbid sadness to actually living again and not thinking about death a whole lot.

They seemed intent on pressing me for a reason for a blog though. I said that it’s really NOT my Raison d’être, and i perhaps spend a few minutes a day on it, sometimes more, but I never ‘plan’ any of the posts, I just write them as the thoughts occur to me. I said I have far, far too many more important things to think about than this blog, which then begged the question of why I bother.

I said that I reckon I include a fair bit about the unpublicised effects of disability, and also that you CAN come back from despair to happiness, and if that helps just one person, then it has actually been ‘ worthwhile ‘. I said I just talk about  stuff that happens to me, that’s all, and the appalling world of the Care industry, which you’d have no clue about unless you were in it. Likewise the transport network, and how it caters ( or not ) for me.

I suggested that they actually read it, rather than condemn it, and they might even learn something… but no, they said they would rather not.

As i dont write it FOR anyone then, I’m not bothered if they read it or if they don’t, but interestingly Rick asked if any of my real friends actually read it. I said that as far as I know, every one of my real friends ( other than them ) does read it, and regularly have a laugh at my little adventures, and possibly a little cry here and there.

Anyway, they seemed determined not to read it for some reason, and that’s fine with me.

As they’re both Wan***s  from the North of England, essentially, they will never know that I just wrote that.. will they ?

😂

( About Wendy ) She sounds and looks great Russ – Unlike your carers, if that is the right word. Go private, pay the carer direct. Tell them to register self employed and get two, month on month off. Pay them per day what you pay the agency per day and they will be over the moon. Also my friend, interview loads and pick the right people, infact t pretend you are interviewing for the Yukon 1000. Tell them the good things for them too. Life with Russ is busy but never boring.
Oh, so, also, advertise up North, you will get more bang for your buck. Be good my friend x

Russ, once I have my certificate for Portuguese language ( which is a good way off ) I will come over and do a month for free. I cannot understand why the carers do not want to be out and about. You taught me so much about my own Profession, true my friend.

Be out and about or iron fresh sheets for a man who can’t feel them? Well in my best Scouse it’s a no, or is it no brainer?
X

I will get on my Facebook and see if I can find you a carer and someone who wants to be out and about. I have many friends in the care world. Let’s just see if I can help.

I asked Isabelle what she did in her spare time.

Speaking ever so slowly, she replied ‘ I’ve been really bizzeeee… ‘

I said ‘ doing what?’

Well, I like to reeeaddd

What about ?

Nuffink in particular, jus research, stuff like that.

Oh really, I said, have you done any research on my condition ?

Not yetttt, I been really bizeeeee.

Later on – I asked what she was reading on her phone.

She struggled with the word, saying Para-leeeee sis.

I asked if that was the same as paralysis?

I fink so, yes.

So there’s progress ? Kinda? Not her fault though is it?

CERA – who sell themselves as experts in care, ought be shut down, i feel?

Thé place i live in is blindingly obviously a ‘ new build ‘. They’re building the block next door as I type, with cranes and construction workers everywhere.

Isabelle just asked me ‘ have you lived here all your life ?’

Im 51.

I appreciate her try at conversation, but seriously ?

You just have to stifle what you actually think, pretty much most of the time tbh.

As I said, it’s not her fault, is it?

Part of her job description is to ‘ keep me company ‘.

I have more chance talking to the plants.

Hi Russ,