Well, it’s now more than three months since I came home from hospital. It’s been wonderful to see my wife and family again and eat home-cooked food. My loss of weight meant my iPhone failed to recognise my face but with Chrys’s cakes it now seems to be a bit happier. Of course, the house has been turned upside down to allow me to move around and be hoisted out of chair, bed and personal tilt table.
Well, my original plan was to send a message at least once a month. I have fallen a long way short of that. My first lame excuse is the drugs. It’s an awkward reality that the drugs that help to minimise spasms tend to send me to sleep. This has led to some hilarious mornings for the staff when I finally wake, surprised to have been showered, shaved and dressed with only the vaguest memory of the morning.
What to say? My crazy year has been well and truly trumped by recent events. I find myself in a doubly strange world – locked to a hospital environment by a freakish accident, then locked down again by the Covid–19 virus.
That’s not correct – it’s a hospital but I thought it might encourage you to start reading. Until last week, over the nine months I have been in the spinal injuries unit here in Glasgow, I’ve been out once, with my brother to Kelvingrove Park. The nursing staff here have pointed out that I may be running the risk of “institutionalisation” – basically the idea that I could become more at home in the hospital than in my own home. It’s difficult not to love the nurses here, with whom I spend a great deal of time.
I’d like to talk about my bowels and shit.
I failed my O-level biology exam. Back in those days, there were nine possible grades – 1 was best and 9 worst. Grades 7 – 9 demonstrated different levels of incompetence (they signified failure). I scored a miserable 8 which was an accurate reflection of my skills. Fortunately for me, I was a bit better at maths. At any rate, that’s one reason why I haven’t taken a huge interest in the intricacies of my bowel despite having a number of medical and scientific friends.
My retired anatomist friend Mike Moore dropped by the spinal injuries unit last week and gave a short lecture on the functions of the C1 and C2 vertebrae. In the film link below he shows how the bones fit and how they relate to the X-rays and MRI scan.
Watch the film
Mi amigo anatomista retirado Mike Moore visitó la unidad de lesiones de la columna la semana pasada y dio una breve conferencia sobre las funciones de las vértebras C1 y C2. […]
Just for a change, here is a more up-to-date post on my recent meeting with a man with a Taser and his friend with ketamine.
I think I’ve said, my high-level spinal injury means I will spend the rest of my life on a ventilator. Although, that’s the normal outcome, it is not quite true. There is a chance – about 50/50 – that a pacemaker (in addition to my redundant heart pacemaker) can be used to stimulate the phrenic nerve that drives my diaphragm. At best, this can mean I won’t need a ventilator at all. […]
It is possible to piece together what happened to me from correspondence with the race organisers, medical staff and cyclists who stopped to help. Of the day of the event – April 27 – I have no memories other than parking my car, shivering at the starting point with thousands of other cyclists and then dropping my warm jacket with my wife at a roundabout in Pollenca. […]
I suppose, given my lack of output I should lower my sights a little and just tell you something about a typical day on the Phillips Hill ward – the rehab ward of the national spinal injuries unit here in Glasgow where I have spent the last few months.
On most days the day begins with breakfast at 8 AM followed by a wash in bed. I have opted out of the hospital offering of cereal and cold toast in favour of muesli, yoghurt and a banana. […]
It’s more than a month since I wrote my last update. Family and friends continue to do an outstanding job on the visiting front – delivering cakes, cookies, an astonishing Greek salad among a wide selection of other goodies. Your email messages are a great support too.
Over the past month my focus has narrowed from simply getting through each day to the practical matters which will allow me to leave the hospital. These turn out to be more challenging than I might have hoped. There are three problems to be solved. […]