So, I’ve gone and ended up in hospital. I’ve been here for two weeks. The truth is that I have been feeling awful for months. I’ve been signed off work since mid-May and various ailments have been gradually getting worse and worse, until they finally came to a head, ending up with me being admitted with breathing difficulties one Friday night in June.

I’m still in inpatient. During my fortnight stay, I have been given a tour of the wards, while the doctors and nurses work out what to do with me. At its worst, I wasn’t sure where in the hospital I belonged and had to deal with what felt like a dozen tubes and cables coming out of my body. I felt like Frankenstein’s Monster… or the back of a television.

As of today, there are currently ZERO wires exiting my body and I am feeling one hell of a lot better. The consultants are also eager to kick me out anad free up a vital bed for somebody else, who needs it more than I do. Trust me – if it means I can be in my own home, with my wife, I’d even give up my bed for John Terry. There is no definitive date for my homecoming, but everyone is talking about “next week”.

Luckily I’ll be going home in safe hands. My wife, Claire, has been amazing. She has always stood by my side, sacrificing her own needs for mine, in order to help restore me to full health. Claire is naturally a caring person. It comes with her personality and is one of the many reasons she makes such a good nurse. The dedication and love she shows me, as my wife, is incomparable. I wouldn’t have been able to get through this without her.
Claire hasn’t been the only person to help me. My family have been fantastic, with my parents spending many hours a day at my bedside and brother and sister travelling from France and Spain to visit. That’s on-top of all the love, help and support I receive from other family members, friends and colleagues. You know who you are. Thank you.

One final note, I have always been a supporter of The NHS; but it is only now, when I am being treated as an inpatient, that I can truly appreciate the service provided. Each staff member REALLY cares. I have found that nothing is too much trouble, with many of the teams – Nurses and Health Care Assistants, especially – going well above and beyond the call of duty.
The staff who have taken care of me are a credit to their profession and The NHS.

Since my last blog, I have acquired a new set of wheels. However, these are not the traditional set of wheels you would expect me to buy, for it is not a car. A few weeks ago, I purchased a brand new, shiny mobility scooter.

Over the years, I have been known to be lazy. At times, this has been justified – for example, the time I moved into a flat of my own, and considered using paper plates and plastic cutlery, to save me from washing up. In this instance, however, I believe that I am more than justified…

For those of you who do not know me, or haven’t seen me for years, I suffer from a condition called scoliosis. This has caused my back to curve, for me to shrink in height and have severe walking difficulties. Indeed, I would not be able to walk without a crutch. Even with such a walking aid, I find getting about very difficult and painful.

Then one day it came to me. I was asked why I should have to put up with pain and struggle, while doing something as simple was walking. Since developing scoliosis, I have always tried to retain independence and dignity, so ruled out wheelchairs and such like. However, the option of not having to push myself through the pain barrier, on a daily basis, was one I now consider crucial.

Since becoming a scooter-user, I feel a lot less stressed, both mentally and physically. My fears of losing independence and dignity have proved untrue. In fact, I have gained greater independence, as I now have the option to visit places I would have struggled to a few months ago. I even feel more dignified. The sight of a man in a mobility scooter, riding along the pavement and office, looks far less strange than that of somebody with a crutch, dragging their body, clearly in pain, down the street.

Living round the corner from work, I can easily “ride” from my house. While many car drivers struggle to find somewhere to park their vehicles, I have a designated space, just feet away from my desk. Pretty cool, huh?