Naked

I’m naked. Well, almost. I’m wearing only a fig leaf.
That’s the way it feels sometimes, writing this blog. Looking at my comfort zone through the rear view mirror. I enjoy it. But It’s exposing.

Finally leaving home (and being assaulted)

Standing outside the train station on London Road, I looked across at the skyline of Leicester. ‘Whatever happens, I’m not coming to this shit-hole’, I thought.

Part 13: Student Bashing

Standing outside the train station on London Road, I looked across at the skyline of Leicester. ‘Whatever happens, I’m not coming to this shit-hole’, I thought.

Life with a Brachial Plexus Injury: protecting your good arm

You’re unaware your arm is resting up against a boiling kettle. The skin is burning but you can’t feel it. When and how do you realise? When you smell your skin crisping up like pork crackling?

My Tacoma Bridge Moment

We ‘upgraded’ to the suburbs when I was 7 years old. The school I left behind was an austere Victorian building with separate entrances for boys and girls.

Concussed in Damascus

When I woke I touched the side of my head gently. Dried blood. The pain was intense. Like a visit by the mother of all hangovers.

Concussed

When I woke I touched the side of my head gently. Dried blood. The pain was intense. Like a visit by the mother of all hangovers.

The uncensored truth about Migraine

It felt like my eyeballs had swollen to the size of cricket balls, being pushed out of their sockets from the inside.

Part 12: Against The Graine.

It felt like my eyeballs had swollen to the size of cricket balls, being pushed out of their sockets from the inside.

Surviving School

I vomited in the bathroom sink before leaving for school. Nerves. Today I joined the new sixth-formers as they began their A levels.

Part 11: The Vomit Episode.

I vomited in the bathroom sink before leaving for school. The accident had forced me to drop back a year. Today I joined the new sixth-formers as they began their A levels.

Part 9: Shifted Reality.

Wearing only a paper gown tied at the back, I climbed onto the cold radiography table. I rolled onto my side into the foetal position as instructed.

Part 8: Guilty pleasure.

‘Must feel good to be going home?’ The ambulance driver chatted cheerfully as he wheeled me out through the sliding doors of the hospital.

Part 7: ‘What do you want for your first meal at home?’

A man with the demeanour (and the tape measure) of an undertaker appeared at my bedside. After 3 months I’d finally be getting out of my hospital bed.

Part 6: This wasn’t nursing. It was carpentry.

While still in the hospital I learned the identity of the driver that had hit me. A 19-year-old former pupil of my school. I didn’t feel anger towards him, but I didn’t forgive him either…

Part 5: ‘Do you want to see my scars?’

I was part-way through my secondary school exams. The culmination of 2 years of study. My future academic and employment prospects would be determined by the result. That was all gone now.

Part 4: Chicken Fricassee.

The femur (thigh bone) is the largest bone in the human body. It takes 3 months for a broken femur shaft to repair itself. So, regardless of my other injuries, I’d spend 3 months in a hospital bed.

Part 4: Coming to terms with three months in hospital

A broken femur shaft takes 3 months to repair itself. So, regardless of my other injuries, I’d spend at least 3 months in a hospital bed. It was unimaginable.

Part 3: I hadn’t felt the need to go, but I was curious.

After a week in hospital I was moved from a private room to one shared with another patient. A young motorcyclist, recently admitted. He was in pain, groaning constantly.

Part 3: Learning to write again.

After a week in hospital I was moved from a private room to one shared with another patient. A young motorcyclist, recently admitted. He was in pain, groaning constantly.