Dreams Dashed

Waking to the sound of nurses knocking out a breakfast I enjoyed a wierd feeling. My leg was tingling all over and I could move my toes. The charge nurse examined it and noted it down and for the first time things looked less than bleak. Ever since my stroke the professionals had told me that I may recover movement naturally as well as having to work on my physio and I was so relieved by this small progress.

However, the realities of being partially paralysed began to come to me a little later when I needed to have a wash and get changed after breakfast. Yes a nurse gave me a bed bath, and for a man who pubescence was dotted with first screenings of Carry On movies the comic and other expectations were high. These were quickly dashed as the nurse involved was not a scantily clad, large breasted blonde but a big geezer named Raj. It was beginning to dawn on me that the path that my life was taking was not going to be a complete bed of roses. Having said all of that Raj was the complete professional and made me feel cool even when the inevitable scrub of the back sack and crack reared its ugly head, Thank god.

Then my first real round of physio began and I realised the extent of my journey back to full mobilit was going to be long. I had to try and stand and nothing happened in a way like it used to. The staff hoisted me to my feet and I realised that I couldn’t lock my knee and my left leg was shaking uncontrollably. At this point I also had to deal with the reality that my arm and hand was not moving at all.

Some progress made but lots more to do.


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