9 Oct 2010

Post 245: There's never fun in a funeral

Another tough week but nonetheless one which may prove to be a bit of a turning point after my physio Ian presented me with an ultimatum on Tuesday. A few months ago I radically reduced the amount of physio I was doing, in particular my walking because I was getting too depressed about the fact I didn't feel I was getting anywhere, well Ian thought I was and he'd say I have been going backwards since then, I would say I've got less depressed (a matter of some opinion) but I've certainly faced the week with less dread. Anyway the effect of Ians ultimatum has been for me to agree to a more punishing 7 day a week physio schedule which I am nervous about at best, terrified about at worst. But, at the back of my mind, I know it has to be done, otherwise I'm spending the rest of my life in this f*cking wheelchair. I know it's going to be hideous but that's the choice, or lack of one, that I face – so the major focus of my life is to be physical recovery but my approach has been dare I say, holistic. My counsellor Cathy seems to be good news, Yoga and reflexology help me relax and I get on with both therapists and I occasionally attempt transcendental meditation, but I doubt I'm any good at it. With the rest of my resources I continue to look for live events that people can take me too. This week my old schoolmate and his wife Ellie took me to see the hilarious Sean Lock at the Hammersmith Apollo on Monday. Lock is on fire at the moment and the Comedian I find most likely to make me laugh out loud at the TV. He's quality. We had a good time, enough for me to see the funny side when James and Ellie (both police officers) leapt out of the car to breakup a drunken argument. Don't get me wrong, I think they're both incredibly brave, but I was sitting there thinking - 'I hope nothing happens to them because without them I'm stranded.
I've also got back in touch(via facebook) with one of the Rehab Assistants from Putney hospital who is going to come and visit me on a professional basis at least a couple of times a month, she's a good lass called Felicity who is pretty conversationally feisty. Luckily she doesn't live a long train journey away and she can drive me to some gigs, like 80s Scandinavian synthesizer bandits A-Ha at the Albert Hall last night. The last time I'd seen these guys was in November last year (post 165). They are the favourite band of my friend Chris Dugdale (the magician) the funeral of whose Dad, Ivor I'd been too on Monday. Even though it was a sad occasion (Ivor had succumbed to a brain tumour aged 68) it had been a fitting celebration of his life with both Chris and his younger brother Will (a great mate of mine from college) doing brilliant tributes that lesser folk would have struggled to hold together. Ivor was a lovely man and had even given a substantial donation to the trust whilst Will has run a sponsored triathlon for me. Chris was there last night because this is A-Ha's swansong London gig. After all their heyday was the 80s, even so, they have aged pretty well, the lead singer Morton Harket still hits the high notes and looks the part.
In fact the comedy high point of yesterday evening was when Felicity, the kind person who drove me said that Harket was looking great and had aged as well as Patrick Swayze – 'what', 'he's dead?' I said helpfully
But as per usual this isn't all I've been up to this week, on Sunday my mate Guy took me to see comedian Chris Addison in Epsom. He may look like he's in his mid-20s, but he's actually 38 – lucky man. His comedy is very much about mining that rich comedy seam – middle class guilt. i.e. the absurd intolerances of daily mail readers, a subject I see at first hand because of my dear mother. His way of confusing Mail readers is to tell them that Asylum Seekers are the natural predator of paedophiles. Guy and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and I found his stories about how his 3 year old son, Elias, had to be interviewed for a good local school hilarious. What do you ask a 3 year old? How's potty training going? According to Guy, it's a good achievement if his son doesn't sh*t himself. 'What could you possibly ask a three year old in an interview?'
Anyway, it took me a few days to stop chuckling about this until my spirits were raised by my old friend Gina visiting with her cute one year old Talia and just now (for it is saturday) I have just said goobye to Steve and Alexandra Joseph who came down to take me to lunch. I hadn't seen these two since their super wedding in May (post 207). Another 80s synthesizer bandit at the Dome tomorrow, Jean Michel Jarre.


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