Today at 9 am ( I was awake yet again, tired, at 5 ) they lay me down and put a full spaceman helmet on my head, with plastic sheeting attached to it that covered my shoulders, effectively sealing all my breath in, and the room air out.

Then Professor Daniela ( quite cute ) told me not to move ( at all ) for about 45 minutes, and just to breathe.
Imagine my dismay when she said on no account could I fall asleep ( given the above ).
I just about managed it, though I struggled numerous times to stay conscious.

I’d been instructed not to eat anything today, before the test, and to only drink water, if anything.

She recorded the amount of carbon dioxide exhaled by me, and in doing so established that the amount of calories I need to consume daily, on the basis that I do absolutely nothing, without losing or gaining weight, is 1600kcal.
Obviously if I do anything physical at all, then the calories I need to consume increase accordingly.

I’ve never counted calories in my life, but do know that 1600 isn’t that much food, certainly compared to how much I ate pre injury.

It is just as well then that I have the post injury appetite of a mouse, really only eating out of logic, in that food is an obvious requirement for existence.

Finding myself in America, where 1600 kcal is the breakfast of the average 9 year old, they must find me quite a curiosity.

As I intend using the adapted gym 5 days a week, and will self push along in my chair, I will burn more calories than 1600, so may have to eat more than I have been.

Or drink more alcohol?

Well I did watch one 20 years ago in the Hogarth Club in Chiswick, but I was so pissed by the time it started, I may as well have not been there.

So.. Last night at the McCarthy’s – I saw the whole thing ( and sober ).
It lasts a few hours, the crowd goes crazy, the players are big mofu’s for sure, the food was plentiful, the company was lovely.

I can’t see the game catching on, outside America.
Not enough space, not enough free running.
They’ve got the right shaped ball but they need to make it a bit bigger, lose the helmets and pads, and get 15 players on each side.

Then it might start to get exciting.

6 Nations starts on Friday, and John’s found me a friend and found an Irish bar that’s showing Wales vs England.

Now that’ll be more like it!

So one of the tests that I have to do involves collecting my pee for a period of 24 hours.
Not the first one of the day, after waking, but then all of it after that.

So, I’ve just had the first one. I inserted the tube/ catheter into ‘myself’and it slowly flows out, down the tube, into the bag on the end. I can feel nothing, just watch it coming out.

900 ml later ( that’s almost a bag full ) it stops.
I pull out the catheter.

I’ve got the red container at the ready, in the basin, lid off.

I tear open the edge of the bag and try to get it pouring into the container.

Obviously… It doesn’t go smoothly , going everywhere except for the bloody container.

After a bit I get the flow into the right place, then it takes about 3 minutes.

The bag is empty and the flask has most of the pee in it.

I screw the top onto the flask.

All good then.

There’s a fair bit of spillage into the basin too.

I knock my toothbrush into the basin.

Hello darling ,

I took this photo when you held a pen for the first time whilst in Toulon.
It was an exciting as well as a

worrying moment for all of us , watching you struggling to hold the pen let alone write legibly.
We did not know whether you would manage to write at all…if .ever , and here you are, writing an eloquent blog.

It was amazing to watch you overcome the writing difficulty then . You persevered to such a degree that it was tearful for me watching you. And we know that you will ‘overcome ‘ now. We are so proud of you Russ.

Am so pleased that you have new friends ,John and Cindy to help you. Please give them a very big thank you from us .

Hope your urine infection goes away soon. Do you have access to fresh oranges/lemons which should help ?

It won’t be long before Dani and girls are with you. Hang in there darling

All my love , mum xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sent from my iPad

Ladies and Gentlemen – Let’s get ready to rumble (again)!!

FIGHT FOR RUSS 14th MARCH 2015 AT THE PARK CLUB

Yes, we’re going again……….after a magnificent event in March 2014 and an amazing follow up with our December Strictly extravaganza, we are aiming to raise the bar yet higher with our 2nd annual white-collar boxing event. We have 16 new volunteers currently under training for the challenge of their lives – 3 x 2 minute rounds of boxing, in front of a baying crowd (if last year was anything to go by.) We are aiming to surpass the 1200 tickets we sold last year and raise some significant funds for our Charity to help Russ and other victims of spinal injuries. Russell is currently in the USA on a 5 month clinical trial, which investigates the effect of electrical current stimulation on paralysed parts of the body, which sounds about as much fun as being water-boarded, but he will be flying back to be with us on the night. For more information on Russ and the Charity:
https://www.russelldawkinsbackontrack.co.uk/blog/
This year I will not be fighting, so you won’t have to put up with that, but I can promise you some great fights including KGPS Dad, Martyn “kid” Berg at 85kg and Sam “Anton du Bek” Devito at 70kg. Not against each other, of course. That wouldn’t be fair. On Martyn.
Those of you who came last year shouldn’t need much encouragement to buy tickets, but for the benefit of those that didn’t here’s a bit about the night – it’s £30 a ticket + booking fee, for that you get to sit at a pre-allocated table of ten, although I should point out, that last year pretty much everyone was on their feet all night, food can be purchased from our award-winning Street Food vendors and alcohol from numerous bars around the dome. There’s no need to dress up much, unless you want to. Last year we had George Groves, Jonny Nelson, Adrian Chiles and James Cracknell in attendance. It’s an a brilliant night and if you don’t believe me watch this:
http://www.chiswickbuzz.net/component/content/article/83-sport/232-parx-boxing-fight-for-russ
It’s very easy to book tickets, just click on this link and follow the instructions:
http://www.theparkclub.co.uk/sections/parx-boxing/pages/buy-your-tickets–2
Even I could understand it. If you just want a ticket or two, book as an individual or, maybe, set up a table of ten? You can password protect your table so people you don’t like or are of the wrong type, can’t join you! How cool is that? Unfortunately, no-one remains at their table, so that doesn’t help much. In fact, personally, I wouldn’t worry too much about what table you’re on as it only serves as somewhere to leave your coat, but some of you will worry won’t you?
As last year, you won’t be hassled with an auction or a raffle, just watching good old-fashioned, semi-controlled violence for your entertainment. And for a good cause.
If you’re supporting a particular fighter, you can join one of his tables or make your own one up, for example, if you are supporting Martyn “Kid” Berg, an unlikely event I will admit, click join a Group and search for Berg. If, more likely, you’re supporting his opponent, click “Bruno”.
Incidentally, for the avoidance of doubt, I spoke to Tasha, Martyn’s wife yesterday and she asked “are they allowed to punch to the face”, to which the answer is yes. And maybe you should speak to Martyn……

BUY TICKETS!!!!

Dan

My legs are keeping me awake.
Another short sleep then.

So what’s it like here?

Well, at the research facility,what is striking is the positivity of those that work there.
They’re very enthusiastic and extremely nice people. Nothing is too much trouble, any of the time. Lots of smiling and eye contact – key to ‘good customer service’.

Lots of unfortunates in wheelchairs around the place. At first I was again struck by how upbeat the riders seemed.
A few days in and I’ve spotted something more recognisable – the sad expressions, the hollowness behind the eyes.

One, Ben, told me how he became paralysed.
A good college swimmer, he’d dived into his pool at home ( common in the USA , and SO many spinal breaks from diving ) but rather than hitting the bottom of the pool and breaking his neck ( usual story ) his swim training meant that he glided the width of the pool under water and hit his head the other side… Instant paralysis.
His sister realised he was drowning and pulled him out.

Ten years ago he was told it would be ten years before a cure.
The ten years is up.
He goes to the adapted gym and does what he can – like all of us. Some can walk a bit, some can only use one arm and that’s it.
Some smile, some are totally devoid of expression.
Some are in self pushing chairs, lots are in powered chairs. It depends on your injury what you can use.

People seem a little surprised to hear a British voice. I think they’re scarce around here.

I’ve been adopted – not my word, theirs – by John and Cindy, who will do their utmost to make this easier for me.
Getting a phone that works here is a priority. If I come a cropper in my chair outside I need a phone that actually works so I could call for help.
Note to self : learn the street names so I can tell someone where I am.
Remembering street names at home has never been my strength, so post injury brain fuzz I doubt it’ll be any easier.

I should get the results of my urine test today. An infection implies I’m resistant to the low dose antibiotic I’m already on.
I’m already resistant to a few, so that would be bad news.

As in yet more bad news.

I’m a happy soul, aren’t I.

Oh, forgot.. It’s going to be minus 12 all next week.
Knew I should have brought a sweater.

I think I now have another urine infection

Great.

Things are getting better.

I’m in a different room, there’s a ‘roll in ‘ shower, with a bench that ( with help ) I can transfer myself onto.
‘Transfer’ is the word we paralysed people use instead of ‘get onto’, by the way.

I have a great girl to help me. She’s done this sort of thing before, and is very sweet.
It does take a special person to be a ‘carer’ – as in to do the job with genuine care, empathy and compassion.
To realise how crap it is for the ‘patient ‘ to have to need the help at all, Is a big part of the job.

The wheel to the Research hospital is doable too.

I’m Eating enough and I have a TV, my ipad and phone, so it’s not as though I’m totally isolated!

Thank you so much to all my friends that have sent me messages of encouragement and love – I can’t tell you how much all that helps.

Dani and my girls are coming to see me in 2 weeks, so there is a bright light to focus on.

It’s Super Bowl on Sunday and I’ve sort of been invited out by friends, Cindy and John, so I might just turn all American and become a Patriots Fan?

On the TV there is a programme about a camp in America, Camp Erin, where kids whose parent/s have died go.
It’s heartbreaking to watch, the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Most of the children didn’t have the chance to say goodbye to their mum or dad.
Bloody hell I’m now in floods of tears thinking about how close it was for my daughters.

Although life for me now isn’t ideal, I can see how much worse for them it could have been.

It’s hard to put into words just how upsetting the day before yesterday was.

The arrival at the hotel, the grim long corridor to my ‘suitable ‘ room, the interminable unpacking of 5 months of pills, catheters, medical appliances..
None of which a normal person would require.

We organised my stuff, so as to make it easier for me to use.

Dani cried so much, far more than I think ever before, at the prospect of leaving me here.

It was, frankly, pretty unbearable.

We discussed just leaving, going back to London, together.

We practiced the push to the hospital, without her helping me, as would be the case for 5 long months.

Yesterday was better. A few groceries were delivered and lots of lovely people sent messages of encouragement, which really helped.

Last night we went out for dinner to a local, Very American eatery and talked a lot, about how if it proved too difficult, I had the option to leave.

Today we established that my bathroom was absolutely not fit for purpose, and they have now found me another room, making the impossible less impossible.

Dani leaving today added to my sense of isolation.
More tears.

I have spent the last hour trying to repack one of my 3 cases, not easy from a chair, but theyll come and help me tomorrow.

I also met a friend of friends, who lives locally. I think Cindy will be a huge help to me during my stay here. Thanks to Caroline and Chris for the introduction.

Tomorrow I’ll attempt the wheelchair friendly gym and get some desperately needed endorphins flowing through my broken body.

They had me walking, artificially, in a huge sling today, wired to 20 odd sensors, to see which muscles fired and which didn’t.
To see myself ‘walking’ after so long, with my emaciated legs, wasn’t pretty.

I longed for the faintest glimmer of hope that I’d one day I’ll once more do it for real.
After all, that’s why I’m here.

I think I’m as low as its possible to be.

Reality has dawned.

Dani goes back to the UK in a few hours.
The room facilities are fairly hopeless.
I cannot use the shower at all.
I can get onto the loo, but getting off it is very hard, and could so easily end up with me on the floor, and then stuck in a hotel room at the end of a corridor.

I’m Scared of the wheel to the research centre- there are a lot of crossings and the pavements are tricky.

Have I made a terrible mistake?