Stroke and mirrors

If 2023 was the year of Recovery where I had my brain injury/ stroke. Where I had to start life from absolute scratch again, learning to talk, learning to stand, learning to walk, learning to live with a non functional arm, a slightly slower mental capacity and the huge emotional shift that comes with all that.

2024 has been the year of returns. Returning to driving; until

December where I’ve had to stop again. walking more distances confidently and getting somewhat quicker, returning to a full gym (still for primarily for rehab but back in the correct environment), returning to work (changed but back) returning to foreign holidays. Returning to days out, nights out, returning to feeling a lot more like me. It also meant 2 returns to hospital for more cardiac things, yuck.

2025 is hopefully going to be the year of rebirth or resurrection (not that I’m Jesus)

I’ve got lots of things in the pipeline I’ll likely share in the future but for now I’m heading into 2025 with huge optimism, lots of plans and a confidence I’ve not felt in a long time.

Happy hours and broken bodies
Spilling down the street (la, da, la, da-da-da-da)
Traffic noise and screaming highways
But I don’t hear a thing (I don’t hear a thing)
Just “la-da-da-da, da-da, da-da”
No, I don’t hear a thing (la, da, la, da-da-da-da)
Just “la-da-da-da, da-da, da-da”
The same old, same refrain (same old, same refrain)

You slept on it, I woke up (woke up)
Diamond rings and pixie dust
Can’t nobody buy my love
I woke up for me

And I got ready for myself

🎵 – ready for myself, Nelly Furtado 2024

NB 1: This is my second attempt at writing this post, the first waffled on for ages and didn’t get anywhere. So I bailed and restarted.

NB2:there is a more joyous festive post coming soon, but, as ever it’s sat in my drafts.

2 weeks ago I had a ridiculously busy week, super busy in work, busy out of work, busy with rehab but making good progress in all aspects plus the peak run to Christmas. Like I say: busy

Friday, I worked my usual day albeit stressful, walked to a pub near work, had a soft drink, left and went home.

2(ish) hours into being home and I felt my heart beating very fast, but it settled, soon after it repeated the process but this time the settling felt like someone putting the brakes on, my internal defib had stepped in to pace me.

Another short while later and I’d been laid on the floor with the dog when I felt lightheaded and dizzy. Rich forced me to bed physically pushing me up and towards the stairs. , I was asleep very quickly

I woke up at 4am feeling like a horse had kicked me in the chest.

It took me a couple of minutes to come round and piece the information together. “Ugh I think my defib has shocked me” I told Rich who was surprised it had as the pre warning alarm hadn’t sounded, it’s like an ambulance in my chest when it does and we’d both have heard it.

My brain kicked into gear suddenly awake and buzzing like a supercomputer:

• What do I do? Get help! From where? Local Device clinic will see the data, but it’s 4am and they don’t open Saturdays. Ok then try the general cardiology team, you know most of then. But still it’s 4am and they don’t work weekends either.
• Ok so what’s escalation? A&E but it’s a Saturday in December it’ll be heaving and you’re currently in bed in your pants
• Ambulance? See above and that feels wasteful.
• Ben you’re tired. Get some more sleep and then think on it.
• I woke up again at 6 after a jolt, unsure if my defib had fired again or if just done that sleepy jolt people do.
• After talking through options with Rich we decided a&e was the way forward.
• I got up, dressed and headed to a&E. The staff on the door less than impressed asking why hadn’t I contacted my established teams?
• I expected a patient with significant cardiac history explaining they had been shocked via internal defib would be treated rapidly and through escalation but nope.
• 5 hours in we’d seen a triage nurse who just looked stumped and told me what I knew: there was little to no cardiology service on a weekend.
• The longer we sat the more I realised no one was going to help, at best I’d be admitted to a medical ward and sit there until Monday when cardiology returned.
• With a busy afternoon and evening ahead and a severe hunger I called it to go home, via McDonald’s.

We had a quiet afternoon where I napped to catch up on what I’d missed overnight. Went out that night with close friends and had a brilliant evening and quiet Sunday plotting my moves for Monday.

Thankfully I didn’t need to do much. 9am Monday morning the device team knew from my data uploads what had happened and phoned me

“Ben this is a VT storm. It’s very serious. When we finish this call you must immediately call an ambulance and say it’s a VT storm, you have a defib and it has delivered shocks” uncharacteristicly , I did as told . I got dressed as the ambulance arrived.

A lovely paramedic team collected me and took me to hospital where we sat in the ambulance for a while, chatting with tea until there was space inside a&E . My a&e opinion at this point was not high.

I did after a while go in, to a majors space where I could be monitored. A cardiology consultant did arrive and talked me through needing to get my rhythm under control and safe, I could either stay there or in his opinion, go to the next door city with a cardiac centre; this would be the hospital where my stroke happened during cardiac surgery so I very bluntly explained I wasn’t going there and had 6 months ago been under a different cardiac centre about 30 miles away and could they be liased with, they did and my consultant there gave very clear instructions on my pathway but to stay there unless I deteriorated.

5 days of constant ecg monitoring which meant I barely moved off the bed A big access line in my arm to deliver a large infusion of a cardiac drug worked fast and we then moved to a tablet version before leaving at the end of the week.

It wasn’t the week I planned or wanted. I did receive lots of love and visitors. The care on the ward was outstanding and I left feeling as safe as I could, with a longer term plan.

Let’s hope 2025 starts better

I would strongly recommend reading an earlier post about My very first steps post stroke

Those first steps were June 2023. It’s now 17 months later (December 2024) and life is busy, I “walk” unaided, by which I mean I get up and wander about with no real thoughts or concerns, I walk my dog through the woods, I’ll walk shopping centres, shops, high streets, pubs, roads, fields, hills. You name it I’ll tackle it. I did briefly have a hiking pole as a support in summer 23 but was always keen to get rid and while I can’t give a set date it when, disappeared a long time ago.

I went back to work in March 24, just under a year post stroke. The return took a while to settle but the back half of 2024 has changed the role somewhat and allowed me to do a lot more, much of which has required me to walk distance, speedily and on demand. Where as initially i had happily parked myself in a corner for a day the past few weeks in particular I’ve hit a stride of doing lots of steps and taking opportunities to get extra in when I could, such as joining a work mate walking to the shop.

In September my PT friend was looking at my daily step amounts and challenged me to hit 4000 steps a day so I would easily get over a mile a day. It was a good suggestion and I’ve not missed a day since.

Today, 10th December I was chatting with a colleague about making sure I get my 4000 steps, they noted I’d been busy and likely there already, on checking I was over 3000 steps by lunch.

I got home with circa 7000 and a gym visit ahead of me. I always do a 10-15 minute treadmill walk at the gym, after which I checked and was over 8000. Initially pleased I’d doubled my goal I then realised I was tantalisingly close to 10,000 and while doing upper limb work decided I was having the 10k goal .

With some virtual encouragement from friends I committed to the goal and got myself back on the treadmill, I would periodically stop the treadmill and check my step counter the 9000 seemed to come easily but then slowed down, or maybe I did.

During the frustrating last couple of hundred 9800 on ward steps I started to think about those difficult early steps. The times I thought I’d never walk again, the days of having 200 steps as a daily goal and here I was marching on, on a treadmill, unaided about to hit my goal. I watched the 10000 steps hit my watch. I Desperately looked around the gym for a familiar face to tell and celebrate with but with no one around who I knew I ended up staring intensely at the water bottle filling station to prevent myself having an emotional moment, I couldn’t cry in a gym on a treadmill! Shortly afterwards O jumped off the treadmill and left the gym for home. Excited to tell Rich and lots of other people. Once I’d come down a little and had a protein shake and shower, I settled down with a beer and fired up the blog app to write this post and clear my mind so I’ll be able to sleep tonight.

You made me hurt times ten, the pain was at eleven
Crossed my heart, hoped to die a million times
Thought I wouldn’t come back, remembered who I am
Look at me, I’m still standing

There, there was a time
When I thought I had you, but you weren’t even mine
Cried so much I forgot how to cry
But I gave it time, I gave it some time

And now I’m better than ever, better than ever
Better than ever, better than ever
Better than ever, better than ever
Better than ever

🎶 better than ever ~ Nelly Furtado 2024

Ok this one is super niche.

If, like me, you were a child in the 90s you’ll know the power rangers were a huge phenomenon especially if you were lucky enough to have sky or cable tv.

5 teenagers fighting intergalactic monsters and every episode culminated with the teenagers controlling robotics to fight a super sized monster. The individual robots (zords) could combine into one surprisingly human shaped mega robot (mega zord) for the final show down; each time there was a variance in the zords I would love it, engrossed aalongside my cousin Andrew. At one point the megazords had become so large and cumbersome it gained an additional robot base to carry it around.

During hospital three, early rehab days once I’d mastered core strength and sitting upright we moved onto standing. Once I was deemed stable enough to stand it was decided I no longer needed hoisting via a crane style device to get me out of bed. In came the patient moving device: Sarah steady, excellent drag name fyi.

It was essentially a platform on wheels I could stand on, plates folded in behind me to stop me falling backwards and I could then be wheeled to whichever location I needed (usually the toilet).

It reminded me of the mega zord carrier and I spent one night messaging my afore mentioned cousin saying I felt like a power ranger.

I was recently asked a fairly innocuous question: “what keeps you going? Where do you get your mettle, grit and determination?”.

It has been part of a bigger conversation with a health professional and it’s brought the conversation to a standstill because I couldn’t t really answer “err I don’t know” was my very sheepish response. But the question stuck with me, not just because it had created an awkward silence but because as someone who went for a while without the ability to speak and express myself I now always chose my words carefully whether they be honest words, silly quips or proclamations of love I give myself a high bar on using my words appropriately and with impact (note this is on a blog) . So to be stumped gave me a kick and a challenge and it’s one I’ve rolled into this post.

While I’ve had over a week to think; I still can’t answer the question very well., certainly not concisely anyway.

I am not a man of religion or faith but I do put a lot of trust in gut feelings and my gut has told me all along “this isn’t it and there is a solid future ahead of you”. So I continually focus on that golden point in the future that life will be easier, I’ll do more, I’ll get the reward: ( movement happiness, confidence, freedom and lightness) that come with those things. I hold that belief firmly in my core. It might sometimes need other people to join in with the belief to bolster me but that future is definitely one that exists. I remember when I had just started walking and how slow, difficult and incredibly frustrating it was. I was with my mum walking somewhere and she was, as ever, full of praise for my development . I looked at her and said “what if this is it?” What if it doesn’t get better?” She very assuredly told me it would; she was right, obviously, we now know that brighter tomorrow was ahead of me. I thought of that conversation on my 1 year injury anniversary as I was “hiking” up a fjord in Norway. Confidently moving, at a reasonable speed, safely. Surrounded by a stunning environment, the cleanest air ever and alongside my Rich. I’d got my golden point.

If I can make that much progress with my leg then why can’t I do it over and over with everything impacted, I believe my golden tomorrows are waiting. I just wish they’d hurry up.

This is it, boys, this is war
What are we waiting for?
Why don’t we break the rules already?
I was never one to believe the hype
Save that for the black and white
Try twice as hard, and I’m half as liked

🎶-some nights – fun. 2012

This post is a pure recollection of memories around one person, locations, names and identifying things have intentionally been altered. Trigger warning: trauma and death.

In 2012 I qualified as a registered health care practitioner in a very specialised career that isn’t publically well known but is vitally important. I had been a support worker and trained in one hospital and a local university before qualifying; I ended up taking a job as a newly qualified practitioner in the next town over which had a mid sized hospital. I was very new; newly qualified, an outsider to the hospital and the change from support worker and student to regulated practitioner was quite a big jump.

But I loved it : the hospital, department and team, even the town it was all just perfect for me at that point in time.

One of my first out of hours shifts was a Friday “late” shift 11am-9pm so you’d see off the back of the routine day activity then be around for early evening until the night shift arrived. My role meant I could be called on to attend emergencies that needed airway or anaesthetic interventions. Normally I was the only person of that skill on shift with nurses and possibly one senior person that may or may not have similar skills to me.

That Friday evening my emergency bleep (yes an 80s style pager) announced an out of hospital cardiac arrest was arriving in A&E and I was needed. My senior person that night was a man: TS who was of the same profession as me but hugely experienced and a lovely man. We set off to a&E together. To start with I set equipment up while he hovered just watching. Our very ill patient arrived. For every time a cardiac output was restored it would stop again.

The mixed team present consisted of: us, anaesthetics and a&E staff ended up spending almost 2 hours with the patient. Myself and TS doing cycles of chest compressions, dripping with sweat and out of breath (if you’ve ever done chest compressions you’ll know they are exhausting). The present consultant anaesthetist providing the odd breath via a bag, an a&E consultant leading medications etc from the foot of the bed. After the 2 hours of repeated failure it was agreed we would stop intervention.

At this point the a&E consultant disappeared returning with 2 paper cups of water, he offered one to the anaesthetist and sipped the other himself; TS looked at him in disbelief after giving a knowing smile then without missing a beat said “no thanks it’s fine, me and Ben need a pint now anyway ”- dripping in both sweat and sarcasm, he shot me a wry smile I can see mentally now.

It had been my first resus event, and my first patient death. We headed back to our department TS put his arm over my shoulder “for a skinny lad you were getting some big compressions there” (I’d not found a gym or food at this point in my life). He kept a loose hold on me through the corridors as we retreated, he continued checking if I was ok. Once we got back he made me a cup of tea and he suggested I write a reflective bit of documentation over the weekend.

A little later we finished shift, I was parked very close and he had a fair walk home, so I offered him a lift. We stopped en/route at a pub for a pint (shandy, obvs) where he again checked I was ok. Told me to get a few beers on my drive home and decompress at home . After dropping him home I stopped at a shop, got beers. Spent my evening decompressing, with a beer as told.

We continued to work together for 5 years until career progression took me away.

As with scenarios like this, we lost touch, not through anything other than circumstance.

In 2024 our paths crossed again. Unintentionally and for poor reason.

I was 9ish months post stroke, planning a return to work in spring 24, but knew I couldn’t work without driving, my OT had referred me in the autumn of 2023 to a local driving assessment centre.

There’s a whole post about driving “here”

.

I set up my hours driving hours with the assesor, lovely chap, we talked over so many things, we had some similar interests. He was interested by my job.

A few sessions in he started a tale of “I’ve only ever had one person that does your job and now I have two of you and I think you know each other” the conversation continued, my interest piqued and TS was his other client, he’d had some traumatic injury and lost a leg, also needing adaptions had gone down the same route I had to return to driving.

We started texting each other. Comparing shit health and life stories. we joked once we were both driving we’d meet up half way between us for a pint and moan together.

A few times I thought of him and meant to book a date it but never got round it it.

I was then heart broken one day when I read on social media that he had passed away. Furious with myself I’d not made time to see him.

I did manage to attend a memorial service at his work, my old work. Which was an event in itself.

TS if you can read a blog in the afterlife just know I’m sorry we never caught up, I think of you randomly,

all my best. Ben

Here, where the world is quiet; 

         Here, where all trouble seems 

Dead winds’ and spent waves’ riot 

         In doubtful dreams of dreams; 

I watch the green field growing 

For reaping folk and sowing, 

For harvest-time and mowing, 

         A sleepy world of streams. 

I am tired of tears and laughter, 

         And men that laugh and weep; 

Of what may come hereafter 

         For men that sow to reap: 

I am weary of days and hours, 

Blown buds of barren flowers, 

Desires and dreams and powers 

         And everything but sleep.

✍️The Garden of Proserpine~ Algernon Charles Swinburne, 1866. I normally end posts on a music lyric quote but today’s gets a poetry verse as it’s not a normal post.

While I could, and I absolutely do, go on about big things I miss being able to do: there are obvious major things like properly showering with both arms, using cutlery, preparing food, gymnastics, going to the gym, my job role, etc etc (ad infinium) it occasionally, fleetingly becomes apparent there’s some “little ” things in life I miss, rather than ignoring it or lamenting too much I’m going to compile an ever evolving list:

• The feeling putting your arm through a jumper or hoodie where it’s soft, thick material and feels comforting and nice
• Tucking your hands in a long sleeve because it’s a little cold
• Typing with both hand on a computer keyboard
• Pointing to things
• Feeling my face as I wash it or put moisturiser on
• Tying a shoe (generally putting on shoes and boots; not being restricted to a couple of pairs)
• Holding a hot drink cup with 2 hands for warmth
• Putting my Hands in pockets
• Backpacks and bags
• Holding a phone and typing with both thumbs
• Being able to hold small pots and eat from them: say yoghurt, porridge or ice cream pots while they aren’t my favourite things to eat just having the option taken away is a frustration
• Holding a cup or glass with both hands
• Holding someone’s hand
• Opening a door so I can carry on a phone conversation with my phone in my functional hand or hold something
• Holding my iPad steady in one hand and using it with my working one
• Clapping
• Putting on a suit jacket or blazer (without it being an ordeal) to look more formal
• Carrying 2 drinks, especially pertinent in a pub where I either end up doing relays or looking lazy /selfish.
• Feeding the dog
• Untangling wires
• Scraping left over food into a bin
• Emptying a bin
• Carrying things upstairs
• Dancing, ok I’ve never been a good dancer but it didn’t stop me jigging around a bit, hands firmly grasping a drink or in my pockets
• Using water bottles and just opening any bottle
• Putting clothes away
• Packing (and unpacking) stuff for a trip
• Getting clothes from my wardrobe, off hangers,
• Gesticulating
• Hugging
• Being able to carry my work laptop / iPad and work at the same time, I miss the flexibility of saying let’s grab a coffee and typing notes as not feeling stuck to my desk
• Being able to multi task such as read and drink a cup of tea but only having the one functional hand means it’s an either or scenario
• Shaving my facial hair and pulling the skin taught to get it all.
• The feeling of a steering wheel
• Gloves, gloves! GLOVES! (It’s currently cold)
• Typing with 2 hands (again)
• Opening cans
• Pouring drinks
• Opening drinks bottles
• Filling a kettle
• Textures and knowing what things feel like, I still have sensation but sometimes I want to grab say a jumper in a shop and feel its softness or the texture of some food
• Shaking hands and then using the left to clasp over or pat a shoulder
• Holding interior car door handles and resting my arm on the arm rest
• Car doors in general, opening a door with one arm, throwing it back and trying to get out is a pain
• Putting a hood up
• Holding a zip/ neck tight on a jacket because there’s a chill
• Scratching an itch, I feel like a bear often using door frames, tables etc etc to scratch myself
• Not being able to zip a jacket or coat up if I’m cold
• Closing smart trousers with those metal clip things (I must google a name for those)update: an inside fastener, apparently
• Putting a dressing gown on for quick comfort or a hoodie / sweater for warmth
• Holding someone’s shoulders so I can get by them
• Cooking and prepping food to have control on what I eat
• Carrying a plate or tray e.g at a buffet or fast food
• Not being able to use cosmetics I want e.g a nice face wash because I can’t use the dispenser
• Not being able to use nice lip moisturisers because I can’t open or hold them
• Holding a door open for myself and/or other people
• As a person with male genitalia , I get to stand up to wee, being able to hold trousers with one hand and the other to wee was so much easier then just one.
• On that theme closing a fly; especially a button one is difficult with one hand, regularly people tell me my fly is open; which is frustrating and embarrassing.
• Putting headphones on, I end up poking myself in the eye and looking like I’m wresting the headphones.
• Similarly: sunglasses
• Not being able to peel fruits, I fancied a satsuma for over a week before I could get rich to peel and segment one
• Not being able to use my pockets. I have always carried: phone, keys and wallet. Now it’s a singular option or a bag
• Putting or removing cards in my wallet (and to a lesser extent cash which I’ve just abandoned using)
• Squeezing a spot on my face, yes I still get them at 30something but I can’t do anything about it
• Holding paper still to write on it
• Being fast enough walking to rush over a road.
• Not being able to nip in a shop and get a drink and/or snack on my way home having neither the speed nor ability to carry and pay for things
• Buying clothes without worrying about how I’d put them on
• Holding a notebook and writing in it. Instead I scrabble around for a surface to rest my book on
• Not being able to wrap a towel around my waist or shoulders ; let’s say I’m at hydrotherapy or the gym in a changing room trying to hold a towel to maintain some degree of dignity, nope, just drape a towel over my shoulder and hope it reaches low enough.
• Just drying off in general after a bath or shower, putting on a dressing gown too. I long for a relaxing bath, getting dry and sitting in my dressing gown (I can and do those things but it’s hard work and time consuming)
• I’d like to cut my own nails, I’d settle for biting them
• Opening deliveries, parcels and packing.
• Grabbing someone’s hand and running to see something being all excited and fun
• Reading a book or news paper with the feel of the book in my hand; I’ve swapped to a kindle but it’s just not the same, I miss the tactile element
• Just being able to move faster and with less thought
• Pressing and subsequently using anti bacterial gel dispensers
• Opening and closing car doors, I have a permanent bruise on my shin where car doors always hit me
• Putting seatbelts on easily
• Not being able to wear a backpack
• Struggling with other bags (opening zips with my teeth, just shoving stuff in and hoping it stays
• Wearing belts
• Wearing jewellery: ok I don’t have much but there are bracelets, a thumb ring and nice watch that will now just sit gathering dust forever
• Being able to buy/ wear / zip appropriate clothing, say coats
• Getting new tech and being able to use its full functionality
• Using wallets, bags, cases etc properly and functionally
• Being able to cook and prepare meals ;e.g I can. Using one hand, put a joint in the oven but not carve it
• Not being able to eat an ice cream due to pots not being usable or just the trial of am ice cream cone with one hand
• Walking down stairs holding something
• Putting on body creams: moisturiser or sun cream
• Not being able to bbq
• Scratching my arms, legs back
• Feeling and holding handles on things e.g water bottles
• Waking up in a morning and not having an immediate clonus spasm in my leg, arm or both
• Using note books that need holding open, I’m stuck with ring bound ones
• Not being able to open windows that need both handles holding open and pushing together
• Packing shopping
• Closing car doors
• Seatbelts both on and off
• Not being able to do a bbq
• Not being able to tie shorts (both swim and regular)
• Washing my hair with the shower hose. Also- using a hairdryer and styling
• simultaneously.
• Playing handheld video games, I’ve never been much of a gamer but I like the idea of a distraction and focus
• Making myself,and others hot drinks or cold / cocktails
• Halloween:
• ‘It’s what gays do, munch butts and celebrate Halloween’
• I can’t decorate Halloween or Christmas and I love a decorative plan
• Costumes; I have so many great ideas on costumes I’d wear but can’t construct or get them on
• Yoga – pre stroke I would occasionally do yoga, I was terrible at it but I was fairly flexible and I enjoyed the time doing it.
• Putting paper in envelopes and filing papers
• Using technology as intended
• Plugging chargers in: phone, headphones, iPad, kindle etc
• Washing a cup, plates or cutlery etc by hand.
• Filing papers

Last updated: November 2025

Fairly recently I’ve had access to a Neuro psychologist who is yet another person in my ever growing therapy arsenal. I had a psychologist in the very very early days, mainly to help me adjust to the initial shock and heart break, beyond that I was left to deal with the psychological impact of suddenly becoming disabled and my life highly changing on my own. I could have possibly pushed for more earlier than now but I’m a pretty strong and stubborn git. Until things got dark a few weeks ago, I pushed for help and lo and behold now have another person in my corner, it’s more of a bus stop than a corner.

One of the things me and the psychologist have talked about in our sessions is how guilty I feel about the impact my health has had on everyone else (rich, my parents, my kids, my friends); in the sessions We sit closely , she types notes throughout, she paused, looked at me, adjusted her position, looked me in the eye and said slowly and with purpose “Ben, it isn’t your fault” then further elaborated this stance but that first statement has hit me so hard.

It’s become another little internal mantra when I worry about impacting on other people. I see my psychologist sat at the table leaning in and saying “Ben, it’s not your fault”.

She’s absolutely right, of course, it isn’t my fault. I’m just dealing with the aftermath. As are my family and friends. I wish none of us were, but we’re out here dealing with it day by day.

I’m hanging on your side of town
I notice when you’re not around
Can’t keep my cool, I’m burning inside
A broken heart, beat barely alive

–Your Side of Town, The Killers 2023

It’s October 2024, I’m almost 18 months into post stroke life and things are well, wobbly at best.

Work, despite some amazing opportunities, high achievements; doing a big online presentation to people who don’t really know me, which went exceptionally well and great feedback; there’s other threats in my peripheral and I’ve absolutely noted a lack of focus and enthusiasm towards work where as a few weeks ago I was almost laser sighted and determined.

Life, the legalities surrounding my stroke aren’t proving to be as straightforward as we’d anticipated which had rumbled us. I was left with a choice of leave it and accept life is just unfair and cruel or fight harder, I think I, no, we, need some justice and recognition so I’ve decided to put that battle helmet on and push on.

Health I’m trying to commit to 3 gym sessions a week and really push strength and mobility across the board but again finding I’m not always enthused or focused, but I do love being in the gym.

Mental health after a really rocky few weeks I essentially demanded help, I now have a neuropsychologist in my care arsenal, a lovely woman; while we’ve not done any real mental battle stuff just sitting with someone who doesn’t know any version of me and talking life over while being completely honest and open “the encyclopedia of Ben” as we’ve called it has felt worthwhile in itself.

An old work friend has recently passed away, he had been very influential when I first qualified as a health professional and was one of life’s good guys. We’d not spoken for years but earlier this year we reconnected under a “small world” scenario, while both on the rougher side of life altering health events we’d both got the same man helping us regain driving licences, the driving man worked out we probably knew each other and set off a chain of events where we’ spoke, we had planned to meet for a beer and story comparison but sadly never got round to it.

His passing had absolutely played on my mind, some very similar circumstances and I genuinely hope he’s found his peace, he deserves it,

Social life – we’ve been very busy recently. Spending one weekend with my eldest friend and his family in the midlands, we did a long walk to a pub, had food, beers, chatted, went to their house did more of all the above and we stayed over; pre stroke this was a bi monthly event and it feels so good to get this back.

More recently we were in the midlands again, natch, with other friends. We went to a gin distillery, had food, drinks, a walk by the canals and more pubs before spending an evening in their house drinking wine and chatting, again something that pre stroke was a regular event and feels great to return to.

I’ve also reconnected with some old work friends, through the aforementioned death of an old work friend, I spent some time in that work place, seeing people I haven’t for 6 years. I Left to a barrage of messages asking to meet up again soon; I was incredibly wary going in, I’d not seen most people in 6 years, many people didn’t know I’d had a stroke and look as terrible as I do, but I was welcomed, fussed, hugged and left pleased.

It’s been an odd week, at times I’ve felt as if I’ve been an external observer of my own life, I’ve been apathetic, unenthused and aloof; apologies if you’ve encountered me being off recently, life is feeling weird but I’ve recognised it and hope to get my head a bit more sorted over the next 2 days.

The slow lane
A small town
Only diesels dance
These streets
Weren’t meant to house
Jet fuel engine dreams

🎵-boy, The Killers, 2022

No, I’m not singing Grease; don’t worry.

With my 9weeks of in patient time starting in May23 I spent late spring / early Summer as an inpatient. Typically 2023 was one of the few times the UK had some nice spring weather.

Thankfully hospital 3 was where I spent most of this time. The ward had 2 garden spaces; my family and sometimes the staff would get me in a wheelchair and outside for fresh air (the ward was in the lowest level of the hospital, essentially the basement; very hot with no air conditioning and despite my room having a window had zero air flow, so I was always happy to be outside and not staring at the same walls

Garden one ‘the stroke garden’ had picnic tables, benches, flower beds and greenhouses that patients with upper limb usage could utilise. One day I spotted a memorial plaque on a table for a male patient who passed away from a stroke not much older than me, it did taint my enjoyment of the garden a tad that day . I did however another day have a bloody lovely afternoon in that garden with Rich, 2 very good friends (including my site editor)where we enjoyed a big picnic in the sun with alcohol free wine from a water bottle . Another time me and Rich took my iPad out to watch Glastonbury outside together, sat in the sun, held hands and listened to the music

The other garden wasn’t as nice, it was really the hospital staff garden with a mix of picnic benches and Exercise equipment which included parallel bars that I pined to do some gymnastics on.

I spent so much time outdoors that I think I was the first patient to get a tan while residing on a ward.

My nights were spent dreaming of making our home patio a haven; it’s quite spacious, directly off the living room, we’d already done a few bits to it pre stroke. Because we’re semi rural it’s mainly very quiet too just the odd bird, town noises in the distance and a few local dogs to be heard

During my sleepless nights of longing to be at home, overly warm and likely a bit depressed I started ordering things for outdoor living: rattan furniture, a giant sun umbrella, pizza oven , outdoor rug. I had grand images of essentially an outdoor living room. But neither the funds, physical capability or space to do it.

Rich did build some bits when they arrived and we used the space a while; especially for my birthday / homecoming when 50+ people came over.

Spring 2024 was unbelievably wet and rubbish. I thought we’d never get a summer then it suddenly came. I bought a little fountain and more cushions.

Quite often after a working day I’d sit ( particularly when off the next day ) with a beer, lighting on, fountain trickling. Birds chirping, Marina trotting around . Just enjoying being in my home; this isn’t a huge achievement but the previous year I’d have killed to do it. It’s a small thing really but I don’t take it for granted,

Autumn 2024 we’ve just packed the furniture away for winter, let’s see how I am come spring 25 and what I’ll be doing then come next garden season

Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow
Don’t stop, it’ll soon be here
It’ll be better than before
Yesterday’s gone, yesterday’s gone

Why not think about times to come?
And not about the things that you’ve done
If your life was bad to you
Just think what tomorrow will do

• 🎵Don’t stop- Fleetwood Mac 1977