Sometimes it might take what seems like forever, but time does eventually heal – be it emotional healing, or physical. Over the last ten years I’ve had to deal with both, and even more so in the last twelve months. Being physically restricted has a massive impact on the psyche, as well as on the … More Time Heals All Wounds
After my operation last year, I took to drinking gin. That is to say: I started drinking twice as much as usual. Partly to help mask the pain, but also out of pure boredom. There’s nothing worse than being stuck in bed for weeks or even months on end. The problem is, that it takes … More Gin, Or “Mother’s Ruin”
She was fully equipped for the journey. Crutches, wheelchair and her own brand of stubborness. Nothing kept her from doing anything – not even her disability – if she could help it.
If this hadn’t happened to me, I never would have believed it. But it has happened, so here I am to tell you all about it. Last night I forgot that I’m not able to walk in the way that I’m accustomed to. I went for a wee, and then I walked back to … More When Injuries Bring Suprise News
You know that feeling, don’t you. We all do. That feeling where everything is generally turning to poo; when you’re depressed; when you’re disabled; when you’re injured… even when you just generally feel like utter crap.
We all know that life loves nothing more than to throw us the occasional curveball. However, the very act of conception can do the same. For instance, I had a schoolfriend with severe Cerebral Palsy caused by lack of oxygen at birth: he could only communicate via a computer or a Bliss Board. When … More Things That I Didn’t Ask For
After Saturday’s very serious desire to commit suicide, I bit the bullet and saw my GP on Monday. She was extremely supportive; she listened, asked me what I’d like her to do, and referred me for a mental health assessment. She could see with her own eyes that I wasn’t at all safe with myself, … More Depression: The True Monster Under The Bed
My dear Nan, So much has happened in the years since you crossed over into the the Summerlands. You know some of it, because we met again when I briefly died in ICU and you told me it wasn’t my time. You were right – it’s not my time yet. I also know that it’s … More A Letter To My Nan
I have been so busy trying to find answers for my hip, complaining about horrible consultants through the proper channels and generally being miserable, that I seem to have completly forgotten to post about the fabulous long weekend in August that was Discworld Convention 2018. Since Sir Terry’s passing, the conventions are still running in … More Everything’s Better With Discworld!
Well, maybe not my hip, but my crappy consultant. You know: the one who showers in Daily Fail and walks out on his patients when they’re mid-sentence answering his questions. The one who ignores your partner/spouse/relative/carer and talks to you as though he’s addressing a toddler. Oh. Did I not talk about him in detail … More Hips *DO* Lie, After All!