Age 22, I wrote a letter to my future self. In a moment of transcendent clarity, I committed my thoughts to paper so I could look back and remember that feeling.
Tag: brachial plexus injury
Quitting university. Arriving in India as a backpacker
Age 22, I wrote a letter to my future self. In a moment of transcendent clarity, I committed my thoughts to paper so I could look back and remember that feeling. It was as if I’d been driving through a dimly lit, noisy tunnel. Coming out of the other side into silence. Sunlight. Sweet relief.
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.
Embrace The Newtown Gnome
In a world of divisive politics, orange presidents and Brex-shit, we can at least agree on one thing. Garden gnomes are tacky.
My Syria Experience: Damascus, Aleppo, Palmyra
I turned the corner to come nose-to-nose with a decapitated camel, hanging grimly outside a butcher’s shop. A hook through the underside of its jaw.
Visiting Syria: Damascus, Aleppo, Palmyra
As I turned the corner I came nose-to-nose with a decapitated camel.
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?
Was this real or a scam?
It’s a Sunday evening in January 2011. I’m sitting with 6 strangers in a house in Paddington. There’s an uneasy silence. We’re waiting to get started…
Reincarnated as a Dung Beetle
It’s a Sunday evening in January 2011. I’m sitting with 6 strangers in a house in Paddington. There’s an uneasy silence. We’re waiting to get started.
An Appreciation Of Knees
Knees are important. Yes they spare us the embarrassment of falling over, but ror me, they bring other benefits. Here are 5 reasons why.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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 10: I danced here, wearing a black cape and oversized sombrero
The impact of the collision with the car may have damaged my kidneys.
I’d need an internal examination. I chose not to ask what that involved.
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 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…
onearmbandito 