8 1/2 months

So it has passed. The great 8th months since accident. It’s basically been and gone. I hardly noticed. We were busy going to Disneyworld with the three kids. It was really a lot of fun and we did all magical things your children still are in the full knowledge of being seriously real. It took a lot of effort. At the middle of day 4 in the park, somewhere between para shooting and going on a movie set to see an earthquake I realized my legs would take me no further. I stopped for a second just to catch my breath. And when I thought I had regained it my legs just would not move. Luckily we were at Disneyworld and we were close to where the let out wheelchairs and buggies. So Dan found himself renting a four wheeler for his wife.
I was taken back to the hotel in a rolling fashion and passed out gracefully on top of my bed.
Something had changed since I’d been in France. All of a sudden I did not taste anything anymore. But everything tastes a little bit metal. I was riding between 4-6 horses every day before I left for France the second time, now even getting close to one makes me tired.
We got back from France on the Thursday night. On the Friday morning I felt dead. On the Friday night I was taken in to hospital again. High fever and sore throat.
I was signed in to hospital again. 4 nights I stayed there, trying to get back to a little bit of normality in my life.
I have basically no sensation on my left side. I have no reflexes on my right side.
We got an appointment with a new neurologist. She booked me in for à DATScan. That’s a radioactive scan for you who wonder. And after seeing my blood samples she decided to take some new blood when I come off my medicines. At the moment one reading from my blood that is supposed to be between: 0-5.0 had a reading of 278.34 on me. It was the highest inflammatory reading the doctor had ever seen.
So now I’m back at home. But it’s a half life as it is. I wake up. Sometimes spend some time with the girls. Then I sometimes go to the stable. But it doesn’t feel like me. I feel imprisoned in this half working body. I can’t even start to think what I should be able to do now. Some people say I’m lucky, that I have come so far. But now I don’t feel so lucky any more. It’s like being shown a future all shiny and brilliant, then turned around in a different direction and its all old, dusty, smelly. I have had a line of loving friends taking me forward and lifting me up. At the moment it just feels impossible. It’s been a long day/week I guess but I have decided not to fight an ongoing forward battle any more. I will try and sit this one out.
I am afraid this is getting a harder blog to write as I know where I should be, but now realizing I’m not even close.

Keep smiling 🙂 even after radioactive scans see the positive in it! You glow in the dark for hours afterwards!

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