Despite having a cool leg brace thing fitted and subsequently hobbling, I’m not Batman. I’m also not Bane, despite being able to do a half decent impression of Tom Hardy’s voice and definitely having taken my fair share of medication.
No, my next slew of pictures simply chronicles me, learning to walk again. I guess it was easier the second time round, but it wasn’t something I was expecting to have to do twice.
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- My brand new metal femur. Better than a cancerous one.
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- I could walk, but unfortunately not roundhouse kick.
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- Imagine not knowing where your right leg is. Now imagine walking. Yeah, weird.
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- Sitting was fine. It was getting up and doing anything that was a pain in the arse.
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- Sitting was fine. It was getting up and doing anything that was a pain in the arse.
Before the days of MBTs….
You write really well. Its a pretty grim story but whether you get a DESMOND (I had no idea what that was) or a First you have probably achieved more against tougher odds than most. To be honest, once you get over the hurdle of landing the first job it matters less and less what grade it was and more and more on the way you perform day to day. I retired about 2 years ago – hell I’m getting old – and I have 2 incurable problems – autoimmune liver disease (so no booze) and a tumour in the head. Both are controlled and I haven’t had half the challenges you have. But it means I have a huge amount of admiration for you, whatever coping strategies you adopt. I had to get my head round my problems – I wouldn’t know where to begin with yours. Hang in there and write more.