ONE YEAR ON!

A year ago today.

By about this time, I was in A&E in the Leeds general Infirmary, doctors and nurses swarming around me, neck brace on, covered in blood from the lacerations down my left side. 

I had a fractured skull and was unable to move my legs. My pelvis was shattered and separated from my spine, held together by a corset type contraption.

My body would convulse as each hit of morphine wore off.

I was sent from room to room, to x-rays and scans each time being rolled onto my side to transfer me to a different bed by the nurses. I screamed in agony – even morphine couldn’t disguise the pain and shock of feeling my pelvis crunch and twist inside of me.

I’ll never forget that day and everything that has come after it.

Zed and I days after

Since my last post, I have been battling hard with depression. The longevity of my recovery, lack of control over my own life and the constant pain is a combination that has – at times – come extremely close to defeating me on numerous occasions. It felt like my usual positive outlook, and feeling of gratefulness that it wasn’t worse, gave way to instead feel like that had been ripped out of my soul, stomped on and spat back in my face over and over again.

Luckily for me, when I feel like I have no fight left, I’ve got Chris, my family and Rose to give me strength, love and laughter.

I am so grateful for having them in my life. An ambulance driver told me on our way to an appointment back at the beginning that it was good to see me in such high spirits because a lot of people give up after major accidents.

I just couldn’t understand why at the time because it was early on and I was still in fight mode, however over the last few months I feel like I get it now and without these people around me I seriously don’t know what I would have done.

I have scars, lots and lots of scars, around 11 in total, some from surgery and some from the accident.

One on my chin and head are fine, they healed super fast, the one on my knee was gross, but again is absolutely fine now. The doctors thought they would have to do a skin graft on my inner thigh, but when I woke up luckily they didn’t have to, they just kind of pulled the skin together resulting in a weird looking chunk out of my leg. But I’d rather that than a skin graft. That scar and the one on my inner arm still itch and twitch all the time and are ever changing in appearance.

I have a tank shaped dint out of my pubic area from the impact of the accident, and that is what shattered my pelvis. There is also a surgical scar from groin to groin that has been the gnarliest, plus other little scars about an inch long dotted around my hips from the external fixture I had for the first few days.

The external fixture was a relief after the corset

I got all the stitches out on one day – another memorable day! Haha.

It was hell. I can’t remember how many staples and stitches I had but my body was littered with them and the poor nurse had never seen anything like it. It took hours and it hurt, really bad. But it was done and the healing and ridding myself of hospitalness really started from then!

All in all I was pretty lucky, I really don’t mind any of my scars, they’re pretty discreet considering and the one that most people would see on my arm is cool as fuck because its on my blacked out tattooed arm, you can see it clearly in this photograph below by Christian of two storey shed from the motorcycle social in Leeds.

You can see the scar clearly in this photo by Chirstian of Two Storey Shed

The constant pain coming from the SI fixation of my sacroiliac joint, or the massive screw holding my pelvis to my spine, has been exhausting.

After the initial 4 months of agony and drug dependency, as my body healed and I began to walk again, I refused to take any more pain killers. I didn’t want to be dependant on them and they fuck my stomach up too, never mind turning my brain into mush. But after months this took its toll, I was constantly exhausted and hurting and as a result of that I became very depressed. It felt like I was going backwards, I had to quit my membership at the gym because I was too unwell to go, I couldn’t even do light work outs at home, if I did I’d be in agony for days after.

This hit me hard after so much progress in the beginning. Since the accident it has felt like my life has been out of my hands, I haven’t been in control of anything, I can’t do what I want, go where I want, my finances are out of my hands, I can’t ride, I’ve lost my creative mojo. I didn’t want to see anyone or talk to people, I’ve been dependant on others, everything that made me me was fading.

Focusing on my health was a way of me getting back in control, so when this became harder and harder I just felt like I was a pointless waste of space, wasting away on the sofa.

My loved ones came to the rescue again and after many debates we decided it best that I go back on the medication, so I did and it helped. I was finding I had a few hours in the day where I could get stuff done. The pain never left but my brain was dealing with it a lot better. Slowly, slowly I started to get back to being able to exercise and walk around a bit with my walking stick to help.

using my walking stick to get lost in West Wales

For months and months nothing changed, it hurt when I sat down, hurt when I stood, it hurt when I walk and I was tired all the time, so what was I meant to do?

Nothing I did made the pain any better or any worse, it was just there constantly, I was worried it was the screw in my spine, in my head if we could take that screw out, it’d be like an instant relief, ahhhhhhh!

But then that would mean more surgery and for something that might not even help! I tried to contact my surgeon but have been unsuccessful so far, however I have an appointment coming up with another specialist, so we can discuss it then.

So nothing was making it better and this might never go away. Once I got that into my head I realised the only way to get through this is to work with it, deal with it, manage the pain and the exhaustion.

However I also realised that nothing was making it worse, it’s not about what I can’t do anymore its about what I can do. So I thought fuck it, its time to get on with life, let’s get back on the bike!!

I did, and it was as if Id never been away! I borrowed Chris’ monstrous FXR, he rode the shovel and we pootled about Wales for most of the day, the sun was shining, the bike was loads of fun, we got to ride side-by-side again, everything just felt right.

Whilst I was riding it was the first time since the accident that I’ve not been aware of my injuries, my back didn’t hurt, my mind was focused, the wind against my face soothed my soul, the feeling of being in control – that feeling I’ve been missing for almost a year at this point – it was perfect. I felt like me again.

I physically couldn’t have done it without Chris, not only for lending me the bike but he has to manoeuvre it for me whilst idle, I was so scared about putting my hip out. He’s also always encouraging and pushing me but there to catch me if I fall, I’ve even been back on the track! – anything’s possible in this life with that kind of support behind you! So stoked about the future!

Always there to help

I’ve also started drawing again and generally feeling creative and on it, the flood gates to my life are opening and it feels amazing, socially I feel a lot more at ease, I’m starting to enjoy chit chat again, I danced all night at the Hook-Up with my best mate and I can ride a bike all day without it hurting.

Photo of me drawing by Tom Bing

I still can’t walk far or stand up for long and I’m battling exhaustion day to day, but my situation is blessed compared to many out there, I still have a long way to go, but fuck it – look at where I was a year ago today!

Here’s to being Alive!!

KEEP YA’ CHIN UP LASS

After deciding we couldn’t do the trip, it’s safe to say we both felt pretty down.

It was supposed to be so much more then just a trip, a chance for us to spend a solid month together, just us and our bikes.

We were to get back to the world we love, back to normality, fun, being care free again and experiencing a crazy adventure together like the dreamy times we shared together before my accident.

For me personally it was the light at the end of the tunnel, to have that goal taken away left me feeling lost, confused and extremely frustrated.

Looking back, relaunching my company The Meat Hook was a mistake, it was too early, it caused me to revert back to that busy mindset of working, that feeling that if I stop the bills won’t get paid, having to be sharp and on point, creative and productive. I just couldn’t keep up.

My body was weak and didn’t look like my own, scars, dents, muscle loss.

I was up to my eyeballs in almost 9 month’s worth of paperwork from my insurance, self employment, claims for benefits etc. I was in such a mess!

My usual high spirits and positive attitude were fading fast.

I felt useless, like I had nothing to offer the world, I felt like a drain on my loved ones, a shit person to be around, everything that came out of my mouth was negative, every thought that crossed my mind was negative.

I couldn’t handle anything going wrong, any criticism, or sadly any of my friends’ problems. I was beginning to feel like I was not here any more, I was becoming a new shit version, an empty shell of the strong, active, funny, positive person that I used to be.

Over three weeks passed and I was getting pretty worried, I’d never been down for that long before.

Anger was beginning to set in. Angry at myself, I felt pathetic that I couldn’t even control my own brain. I had so many positives in my life, I knew this, but I couldn’t focus on any of them. The negativity was finally winning, dragging me to that sinking ship in a deep, dark sea of depression.

I didn’t want to put this on my loved ones any more, so I clammed up, like I always do when I’m struggling.

They’ve been through this with me every step of the way and they’re tired too, they’re frustrated and they definitely don’t want to see me down after I’ve come this far.

I wasn’t the only one pinning my hopes on getting better in six months (as I was originally told by doctors).

Chris deserves to have his girl back, my friends deserves to have me back and my family deserve to have their daughter/little sister back. But I wasn’t back yet.

With no professional help either, I felt like I was at the bottom of that deep, dark sea.

My loved ones, being the amazing people they are, all realised I wasn’t doing so good, but they made it very clear that I am never a burden (which I know deep down but can’t help feeling it).

None of us knew what to do to help, so we discussed the situation at various points over the weeks.

The basic conclusion was to take a few steps back, forget the trip, forget about work, forget how strong and focused I used to be. It will all come back when the time is right. For now I need to realise that this could take a hell of a lot longer than I ever could have imagined and there’s probably going to be more set backs, so I have to focus on things I can do rather than getting down about all the things I can’t.

I’ve put in place a basic structure using a notes system on my phone. I have lists, lots of lists!!

The most important list is stuff I have to do every day, more of a reminder, this list is the most basic, for when I’m hurting really bad or when I’m feeling better.

Every day I have to make sure I eat well, keep the house tidy, and do some sort of exercise. When I’m hurting I can manage a bit of physio, this is not easy, but it is achievable, which makes me feel good afterwards. When I’m not hurting i can do a bit more, yoga, swimming or my favourite, a light walk out in the peaks.

The other lists are for when I’m feeling a little better. One contains ‘serious stuff’ aka boring stuff, benefits, insurance, blah, blah, blah, haha.

The second is titled ‘good for the soul’ things like drawing, going for a little drive, sewing, taking a bath. The third is just a basic ‘To do’ list. I find having things in list form and being able to cross them off satisfies me and helps me feel like I’ve achieved something, no matter how small. This basic little system has been my life jacket, my dolphin, my friggin mermaid or whatever it is that rescues people from the deep, dark sea, accepting and realising that life isn’t going to be as it was for a time that no one predict and embracing things that i can do instead of being frustrated at the things I cant do.

I started to feel like me again, like me before the accident, I was crossing off tasks left right and centre, super productive, happy,  funny,  stoked on life.

Then my right hip fucked up again…

For over three weeks I’ve been back on my crutches and in so much pain that won’t go away.

The battle is far from over But! With my positivity topped up to full once again, a good osteopath (finally) and my back to basics system, I’m cool with it, it is what it is, what will be, will be and all that.

I know what to do when I hurt, I have pain killers to help take the edge off it, I get out the TENS machine, the hot water bottle, put on some comfy clothes and just chill the fuck out. 

Everything else can wait.

Feeling positive, enjoying one of my better days out in the peaks.

HARSH REALITY AND TOUGH DECISIONS

It’s been a while since our last post, we’ve been busy working on bringing Zed back to life and pushing Chris’ new build forward. But we’ve also been having to make some tough decisions with regards to our Euro trip: we’ve had to postpone it. 

I’ve had a couple more physio sessions, concentrating on my right hip joint to try and ease the pain that I’ve been experiencing. It’s mainly been manipulating the joint, trying to loosen it up, but being honest, it wasn’t really helping.

I joined the gym and have been going everyday, focusing on getting control of my own health again. No lifting weights like Arnie, but small swim and cycle sessions. Exhaustion sets in afterwards, but the satisfaction of doing something productive with my day makes up for that!

I also got myself a little car, that might be nothing special, but to me it is FREEDOM!

Me and the Pug in the peaks

I had a few emotional first journeys in the car when I realised I could now get around myself and it didn’t hurt too bad.

It’s also been a good introduction back onto the road, the anxiety I was feeling after my accident is fading fast. I was always a very alert and confident driver/rider so I wouldn’t say I look at the road different, I just feel like I’m getting back to enjoying it again and not being super paranoid every time I see a vehicle wanting to pull out or turn across my path.

The transition from walking with one crutch to no crutch had to be quick and smooth so I didn’t develop a limp, and having the car helped that as it meant I could walk from my house to the driver’s seat and get to where I was going without crutches. In the supermarket I use the trolley to aid my walking even if i’m just grabbing a cheeky pint of milk. I was walking very uncomfortably, with a monster limp and my face probably looked like I was angry as fuck but I was just concentrating on every step to not fuck my hip up.

one small step at a time without my crutches

I was still suffering from this pain in the right hip joint, still leaving me couch bound, which had me up and down with pain and with my mental health.

It seems to be getting harder to cope with mentally, the closer you get to normality the harder it is when you have a shit day. Boom, in an instant back to crippling pain and not being able to live my life the way I want, not knowing when it’s going to calm down.

My friend has been going to an osteopath and she mentioned my situation to him. He asked for my details as he was soon to be trailing the K Laser, a type of laser therapy aimed at speeding up the healing process.

He was offering the treatment for free, in return he just wanted my feedback. At this point I was desperate, physio wasn’t working and was few and far between. After an initial assessment and looking at my X-rays, the osteopath recognised almost straight away that all my pain was coming from the screw in my sacroiliac joint – the screw holding my pelvis to my spine. I was impressed by this diagnosis, he was more thorough and seemed more informed than any other professional I’d spoken to, so I swiftly agreed to an intensive 2 week treatment plan.

I had the first session with no real expectations, but man, afterwards I went food shopping and for a split second I felt as if I’d never been in an accident – I couldn’t believe it! 

I haven’t felt that good in eight months now. I was walking smoothly without feeling every step aching, pulling or crunching underneath me. I was trying to tell myself: ‘this can’t be true, it must be all in my mind!’

I was instructed to keep it warm, so I strapped the trusty hot water bottle to me. The area was painful and achey towards the night and it kept me from sleeping until the early hours, I was worried thinking, ‘what have I signed up for here?’ But in the morning I was walking about with no limp, no sharp pain, and I was absolutely over the moon.

Having my car has given me a new lease of life, I’ve been to so many places: driving out to the peaks to eat my dinner, popping to Hull to see my family, and Leeds to visit friends. My former life, of being busy, active and sociable, is slowly coming back to me. However I’m still in constant pain around my pelvis, spine, knee and hip joints, and it’s exhausting, but it is more manageable than before. Slowly I am able to do more with my days, before I have to hitch a ride on the kip train like a nanna. 

So, I’m sad to say, with our trip approaching soon, we’ve made the decision that I’m not fit enough to endure a month on the road, and we’re absolutely gutted beyond belief. But for the first time in my life, my health has to be my priority. I cannot deal with the consequences of hurting myself anymore or potentially prolonging my injuries. We haven’t written this plan off completely, far from it, it’s still a goal, the posts have just been moved back.

I feel strangely sensible, mildly boring but confident we’ve made the right decision however sucky it may be – I’m not the tough cookie right now that I used to be.

We’ve still got loads of mini adventures in the pipeline and obviously Chris is still building his new beaut of a steed, so we’re gonna keep updating the blog and insta.

Thank you for all the responses to our blog so far, its awesome to think people enjoy reading our little updates, makes it all worth while.

One Step Forward Two Steps Back

Everything was going so well… I’d started walking around the flat with no crutches, I’d had a ride on the back of Chris’ Shovel, and I felt comfortable out and about on one crutch. My pain was still constant but more of a dull ache, manageable day-to-day without painkillers.

I moved to Sheffield with my best friend and we have so much around us within a mere 10-minute walk: butchers, cafes, grocery stores, off licences, my new doctors and physio. Loads of stuff!

Having all of that immediately gave me back a small part of my independence and man, it felt amazing! Not having to depend on anyone to take me food shopping or to get out of the flat was a joy in itself.

The first few weeks I was just exploring the area and testing myself to see how far I could walk on my crutches and how long I could be out without getting exhausted.

I must have had the biggest smile on my face, just finding new cafes on Google and then walking there to get a coffee, sending Chris a screen shot of my journey with a crude line drawn on it to show how far I’d walked.

I could browse shops comfortably, walk a good 20 minutes or unaided in the flat. I was getting better and life was returning to some kind of normal, my energy was coming back and I started thinking about getting back on the bike, about our trip, getting on the dirt bikes, flat tracking, dreaming and looking forward to our summer to come…

After a day of walking on one crutch and Chris’ arm for support, I got up the next day feeling good, I grabbed both my crutches to go food shopping. On the way there I got the most horrible pain in my hip joint, like a hot knife, the pain shot from deep in my joint down my leg, and I had to stop for five.

I was like, ‘what the hell was that?’ I thought it was just a trapped nerve or my bone was a little out of socket so I tried to move it around but nothing helped. I managed to get some food as I didn’t have any in at home, so I had no choice even though I was in so much pain. The walk home is only seven minutes or so but it was hell. I must have stopped about five times. It was sickening.

I got home and hardly moved off the couch for the next two days. Any time I did, the same thing happened, my leg buckled underneath me. So I was back again to being completely reliant on the crutches – even in the flat – otherwise I’d just fall.

I cannot explain the effects this had on me mentally… after so much progression and feeling so close to riding again, I was now so down. I didn’t even want to talk about it. I felt miserable as I couldn’t go anywhere, and I didn’t want to do anything. I was done with the week.

Gradually over the following days the pain started easing, and I could get about again. Slowly but surely I managed to get to my first private physio appointment, which itself was very different to what I had in mind.

He didn’t know anything about my case apart from the doctor’s notes he had, so I sat there and explained everything.

He kept saying how lucky I am to be alive, and he was also appalled at the lack of care I’ve had so far – apologetically explaining how this might affect me in the future and how I need to fight for the right compensation.

It was a really heavy conversation, during which I was holding back the tears. I guess he kind of forced me to think about the shit side of all of this, as my attitude had been, ‘shit happens, deal with it’ whilst keeping a positive outlook.

But after the week I’d had, and approaching the 6-month mark – a time I was originally given as ‘full recovery’ but being nowhere near it – I was feeling pissed off.

Suddenly it hit: ‘this isn’t fair! None of this is fair! I didn’t ask for any of this shit.’

I was just merrily on my way to town that morning, and apart from the deafening growl of my Z750, I wasn’t bothering a soul.

Never mind all the shit I’ve been through so far – my life now will not be the same for a long, long time. I can’t go out and dance all night with my best friend, or booze and go to gigs. I can’t go riding, get lost and go for a walk in some wilderness. I have no drive or motivation. The idea of getting back to work makes me want to crawl up in the foetal position. One thing that really hurts me – that I don’t think I could say out loud without breaking into tears and find hard to even write here – is that I haven’t been there for my loved ones. There’s been times since my accident that my friends have needed me and I couldn’t be there. It’s not fucking fair.

It’s been a very tough time. I don’t like focusing on the negatives but in retrospect I feel it was healthy as I had a lot of issues I wasn’t dealing with.

I beat myself up when I can’t do things –I always have. My idea of hell is being a couch potato, but for the past 6 months that has been my life. When I was hurting that was fine, I knew it had to be, but now I’m progressing, if I have a down day when I’m back on the couch I’m finding it increasingly hard to deal with. I want to be up and out, doing something, being productive. At the moment I’ve got to force myself to slow down, but I don’t know how, even though I can no longer live at 100mph. I have to admit defeat. It’s going to take longer than expected and that’s that.

The pain is still there – that sharp, shooting pain. Some days it’s as bad as it was that week, unable to walk unaided. I cant leave the flat, it’s very up and down at the minute.

I had another physio appointment yesterday and also my 6 month check up with the orthopaedic outpatients.

They both said everything is OK, the joint is being aggravated the more exercise I’m doing, causing swelling so those big fucking nerves in there are being squeezed and apparently that’s the pain I’m feeling.

I’ve been given the all clear to go swim and use the cycle machines, there’s not a lot I can do about the pain, but I’ve found my TENS machine works a treat, so I’ve been hooked up to that for the last three days.

I’m back to feeling positive. I’m stoked the pain isn’t anything worse! I have come to terms with the fact this is going to be a much longer journey than first anticipated and I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

However, there’s our trip! It’s not long now at all – we were planning on going the first week of June but at this point I really don’t know if I’ll be well enough for it.

I was pretty devastated at the thought of not going, and when I talked to Chris about it he said don’t worry, we can go in the van or we can go later on in the summer.

It’s been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember and with Chris by my side I know it will happen one way or another, just maybe not when we planned or how we planned it.

Stay tuned I guess, and we’ll try keep you updated.

Road to Recovery

I’ve been out of the wheelchair now for a month, but to me, the progress feels very slow and, at times, frustrating.

 

I keep having to consciously chill out about it, and to remind myself that it was only four months ago that I had the accident, after which I was laid up in a hospital, unable to move my legs, sit up, wash, or even go to the toilet.

 

It’s weird how easy it is to forget, so before writing this I read through old posts and messages that I received back then from everybody, and it all still leaves me speechless. The amount of support I received, the number of people that came to see me in hospital, the well wishes, the funds raised, making it into the newspaper… it’s just unreal. All of that gave me so much strength when I needed it, and I will forever be thankful and feel loved.

 

So, after I wrote my last blog post ‘Highway to Hell’, I managed to gradually wean myself off the codeine and finally got my pain under control, but I’m still left feeling out of sorts.

 

Those who know me, know how much I love to socialise. I’m always chatting and dancing around merrily, but I found being sociable quite difficult whilst in the chair – I actively chose not to go to a lot of events or occasions. It has felt so bizarre to me, having to be completely dependent on somebody else, that it was an almost claustrophobic feeling.

 

Not being able to leave somewhere when I wanted to because of something simple like there being steps, or not being able to go to the loo when I wanted to because my chair wouldn’t fit through the door, it made being around people feel like everything was too busy and close. Like I couldn’t breathe.

 

But sometimes, in lighter moments if I was feeling good and either Chris or my best friend Rose were around, then I’d go out, which lead to some pretty funny situations: Chris having to lift me into the girls’ toilets; Rose pushing me around Leeds city centre in her little impractical-but-glam-as-fuck heels and fur coat; or battling to get my chair in and out of taxis – they’re all situations that will forever remain with me.

 

On the day of my accident I was – now ironically – on my way to hospital, for a pre-op assessment about a lump in my neck that I was due to have removed. I made it to hospital that day, but I didn’t quite make it to my appointment.

 

As you can imagine, that kind of took a back seat on my priority list, so a couple of months into my recovery the lump had gotten to the size of a golf ball – bear in mind now that my neck is miniature.

 

Anyway, because of the size of it I got hurried through to yet another operation, and lying there on the hospital bed was definitely a bit too much, too soon. To be blunt, it was a head fuck. I had a little cry before I went under, but the nurses knew my history and were lovely with me. That set me back a bit, and lead to another couple of weeks of more codeine, pain and feeling pretty grim. It also another scar to my collection.

 

On November 31st I had an appointment with the surgeon who performed my pelvic reconstruction, we did another X-ray and discussed how I was getting on. I explained how desperate I was to get out of my chair and he mentioned he might be able to fast-track the physio and get me on crutches that day!

 

I couldn’t contain myself. I was like, ‘wahhhhhh, oh my god, that would be awesome, can we, please, oh man, that’d be ace!’.

 

But he was like, ‘woooaahhhhh, missy, hold up. It might not happen.’

 

We chuckled and I sat there as he made a phone call to the physio department. Then he said: ‘good news, they’re on their way with some crutches!’

 

I’d spent three months of not being allowed to stand or walk, and suddenly out of the blue, it came to an end.

 

Again, I got a little teary, which I’ve now had to accept is just something that’s been happening since the accident. I’ve given up trying to fight it to look tough!

 

They tried me on a Zimmer frame but that sucked big time and felt really restrictive. The physio team worried at how bad I was on it and asked if I could just try the crutches. As I’ve been on them before they let me have a go, and I instantly felt so much more at ease.

 

My right side was the most damaged which meant that I wasn’t allowed to put much weight on that side, so my leg kind of dragged along the ground, which made me giggle as I looked useless – but also cool in a fresh pair of sneaks!

I felt like I was going to pass out, but I remembered also feeling like that the first time I sat up in hospital, so I knew it would pass if I just kept practising. To get my breath back I sat down for a while, and then they took me to the stairs – hallelujah!!

 

To that point, stairs had been my enemy, especially as I live in a first floor flat. Being able to get up and down stairs on my own meant a little bit more freedom and independence – which I craved.

 

The ability to go somewhere without having to research if it had wheelchair access or disabled toilets don’t sound like a big deal, but man, it is. Personally – and quite ashamedly – I never knew how hard it was not being able to use those things, or how little places have the facilities to accommodate wheelchair users.

 

In the early days of December, a group of my friends and I hired a cottage in the Peak District. Most of us ride so it was a nice way of combatting the winter blues, celebrating Rose’s birthday, and for an excuse to drink a shit load of wine and eat cheese in front of an open fire.

 

It was beautiful. We were in the most picturesque of settings with the best bunch of girls, who’ve all looked after me and kept my spirits high throughout. It was just what the doctor ordered – no stress, just fun.

 

Chris came to meet me on Sunday. We stayed the night, enjoying the last moments in such a cosy little cottage. In the morning we planned to head out early. Only when we opened the door we were greeted by the thickest fog ever! That day made the Peaks look even more magical and so I left feeling super positive – like life was finally getting back to some kind of normality.

 

Off the back of that, I was finally feeling strong enough to have my first proper visit to Wales – at last!

 

I got to see where Chris lives, his business, the lock-up and to meet his family. It was so good. I got to go for my first little walk around the beautiful seaside town, Tenby, on the west coast of Wales. Tenby was the perfect size for a little stroll – walking at a granny’s pace I fitted in pretty well around there with all the old dears. I remember having a little snooze as soon as we got back to the truck, as all that action was too much for my little leggies.

 

Since being so vertical the pain has come back, so unfortunately, I’m back on the codeine – I’m gutted about because I hate taking medication.

 

Some days I feel like shit like I’ve given every ounce of strength, and as I sit here writing this there’s no more left in me right now.

 

I’m so tired of being in pain that I find it’s exhausting. But again I know it will pass, and I will get better.

 

I had my first ever physio session last week and I’m already looking forward to my next one, later this week.

 

Thinking of this Hospital to Holland trip is helping me to get by, and it’s a reason to get strong again.

 

But for now, I’m still taking baby steps. My next challenge is to get the train down to Cardiff – on my own!! It’s something that wouldn’t have been a big deal before, but now, with my little backpack and crutches, it’s got to be a well-planned excursion.

 

But there’s one thing that’s really got my attention – if I’m doing OK when I get there, I might be lucky enough to get a ride on the back of Chris’ shovel. Watch this space!!!