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- Post 356: The disabled don’t have a monopoly on co...
- Post 357: I seem to be alone in not losing the plo...
- Post 358: I miss intercourse
- Post 359 - a placeholder because this weekend is g...
- Post 360: Nothing should be this hard
- Post 361: Things will improve
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- ▼ August 2012 (9)
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30 Aug 2012
Post 364: I think I should rename this sometimes...
...To the weekly wobble or wibble or ‘the weekly whinge’. For the record, whingeing is sh*t and I realised exactly how bad it is when I went to the Albert Hall the other day when the guy (incidentally an old guy in a wheelchair just didn’t stop complaining to his poor carer about how this ‘was such a bad vantage point’
I almost broke with convention (I’m so English and Oldschool) and was about to tell him to STFU (if you can’t work out what that’s an acronym for then God Help you – gosh that’ll help!
Back to renaming this, so long as it’s some sort of lazy alliteration we’ll all be fine although bands the Temper Trap and Passion Pit could have tried harder, they’re just pathetic!
I usually try and grab some major theme and write about that OR I try and write about things I’ve been doing but I really haven’t been doing much since I got out of hospital for my Gall Bladder operation (and that was a few weeks back on about 15th August.
I go on a lot about how training is really my job (I’m like the worst paralympic athlete ever) training is my ticket to semi-independence and a sub-standard life. I’ve recently found out how true that is. Since getting out of hospital I haven’t really trained because my operation wounds make using my trunk (I’m not an elephant) or my right arm a bit painful to do exercise or transfers. Imagine if you will, if you were a walker, it being too painful to get into bed, a chair or onto the loo. However in some cases you just have to grit your teeth. It’s a bit crap – and Jose’s girlfriend Bec was due on Friday last week so he’s a bit pre-occupied being a good expectant father. Poor Bec still hasn’t had the baby but I was rather forced to write this to him:
‘I know it's a tough one and Bec is the #1 priority but not exercising
is taking its toll on my mental and physical health. You probably
think I'm a selfish c*nt for even writing this but I fell on the floor
today after my left leg buckled trying to get into my armchair. All
I'm saying is don't hang around. + I've got to head into hospital in
mid september for more Gamma-Knife radio surgery. At least that means
no operation wounds but it will be a 6 hour general which will f*ck me
up. I'm terrified. Anyway good luck and be in touch. Just filling you
in. Seriously, not having a routine has screwed me up. Glad the
contractions have started. Sure Bec has mixed emotions. Good luck.
Sure you've been through girls names enough times to drive you mental!
This is how desperate I am to get back to my Thrice weekly torture – it’s mad isn’t it? As you can also see the prospect of another bout of Gamma-Knife radiobrainsurgery isn’t exactly filling me with joy. Last time I had it in 2006 it was the single most traumatic experience of my life so I’ve said to the consultant at the Cromwell Hospital that I’ll only do it under general anaesthetic, which I wouldn’t have been cacking myself about had my appendix anaesthetic in July 2011 not have almost killed me. I hate to make a fuss, but people who think they might die tend to get scared. I haven’t endured seven(ish) years of this to flounce now. Seeing we’re on such a joyous subject I want to make it absolutely clear that if I for whatever reason become more disabled (ie lose the ability to speak, think properly or use my right side, I don’t want to live, I don’t want to have my life saved, I don’t want to blink out a book. It’s been hard enough doing this with one finger. The word I’m looking for is ‘embattled’, and the thing is that’s how everyone feels these days so it’s no wonder I feel on my own a bit, everyone else is too busy, trying to survive their own lives.