• Blog
  • Time to Say Goodbye

    Leaving Hospital

    I got out. It must have been the good behaviour. After 9 weeks of rehabilitation and almost 15 weeks of hospitals since my Spinal Cord Injury, some innocent soul in the NHS decided it was safe to unleash me onto the streets of London – and hopefully soon the backroads of Leitrim. Watch out world. […]

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  • The Reluctant Contortionist

    contortionist

    “You need to put that in the blog” says Superman. “No,” I tell him. “It never happened.” “But it’s hilarious.” I untangle my limbs and flail about as much as I can flail about (paraplegia is a bit restrictive like that). I’m trying to remove the plastic cup from under my arse. It takes a […]

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  • Sink or Swim

    swim

    It started with a Zimmer frame. I’m lying on a plinth in the physio gym, feeling the effects of ten weeks worth of hospital quality sleep. In a very un-Ruthie moment, I’ve mixed up my appointment time. I run through some of my stretches while I wait patiently for nobody and I do what I […]

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  • I Want To Break Free

    Break Free

    It came on in the van just as we reversed out of the parking space. Queen gold. Those first few seconds of rhythm last just long enough for me to smile, gear myself up for the pause before I join Freddy in his opening line. ‘I want to break free-he…’ It’s a bittersweet moment. I […]

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  • Turn it Up

    Dance

    “Crank it up to 2 there Anthony.” Anthony laughs. He gives me a look that asks “Are you sure?”, answered by a swift nod. He increases the Motomed to 2nd gear. I’m trying to pedal a machine that’s a bit like an electric bike, except that I can pedal from the comfort of my wheelchair. […]

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  • Angels and Pigs

    Angel

    If you’d asked me a few months ago what my spirit animal was, I might have told you it was a panda. I’m not big into spirit animals, but I’d like to think that if such a thing existed, or if I had a Philip Pullman-esque Daemon, that it might be a kind of cute, […]

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  • The Breakdown

    crying

    It was meant as nothing more than chit-chat. A question asked in an elevator to break the silence for the 30 seconds it took to make it to the gym for physiotherapy. ‘What do you do for work?’ I felt the now-familiar wobble when the topic came up. A churning in my stomach. A stab […]

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  • The Trump Lump

    Vicki was the first of the Musketeers to make the great escape. She wouldn’t have had it any other way. Her bag was packed from the moment her anaesthetic wore off. There was a class of 7-year-olds and a whole community of former-7-year-olds who missed her. That was motivation enough to get her fully dressed […]

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  • I Like to Move It, Move It

    I’ve always been mystified by super fit people; all of those crazy sporty types who run marathons, have 50 burpees done before breakfast and whose Instagram feeds are a collection of sweaty selfies and announcements of PBs. I didn’t get it. Why in the name of God would someone waste their Sunday running a 10k […]