Raising money for Arthritis Research

Understandably this charity is very important to me.

If you like my blog then please help by giving a little using the JustGiving button on the right.

This year I have booked a 2 mile swim around lake Windermere and will be repeating the Nottingham Sprint Triathlon at  Holme Pierrepont. I have created a general justgiving page this year rather than have to keep creating new ones for each event.

None of the costs of attending or entering these events is ever taken from donations. 

I am officially not responsible for my own decisions.

An experience that made talking to the dying important to me.

It all started a couple of years ago. I was in the habit of staying awake until I fell asleep on the sofa and then going to bed after waking a little while later usually because of the dog or wife reminding me.

One evening I woke, opened my eyes and that was all I could do. I was definitely awake, I could move my eyes but not my head or any any other part of my body. I have meditated in the past although I have not practised for a while and the feeling of total relaxation and detachment from my body was amazing much deeper than any meditation session I had.

I ought to have been scared of what was happening but I just closed my eyes and assumed that when I woke all would be okay, which it was.

The next time this happened, again falling asleep downstairs,  I was nowhere near as comfortable as although I was aware of everything around me and absolutely wide awake mentally I couldn't even open my eyes.  I tried lifting one of my arms and it felt like it was moving but then I realised it had not moved at all.

It happened in bed a little while later towards the end of my usual sleep period and for some reason it really spooked me. I have no idea if I had been dreaming but I remember the clammy feeling of panic. My heart was pounding but there was nothing I could do as the first time this happened is the only time I have ever been able to open my eyes. I rocked in bed hoping my wife would nudge me to stop and wake me up but nothing happened, not even the rocking. I calmed myself down and slept for a short while before waking normally but certainly not calm and refreshed,

The next few times it happened I tried moving just a little and my wife confirmed that I had not moved at all and as a light sleeper she would know. One time she was cuddled up to me and knew nothing.

My wife did shake me once and woke me up startled once though when she thought I was having an episode but I was just having a fantastic amazingly comfortable deep sleep!

I now just accept it and sleep it off.

My experience of sleep paralysis has made me think deeply about how to treat dying people.

I then recalled a visit from an ex husband to his dying wife in final hours of her life. It was an acrimonious divorce and as soon as she heard his voice there was a definite frown from someone who had not been conscious for a couple of days and never regained consciousness before she died.  We all noticed it but nothing was said to him.

I recently watched the last few weeks of a couple of really great people towards the end and the last moments of one of their lives.

As I was watching them dying slowly of cancer they were mostly unconscious and  I knew that they may be very aware of their surroundings but just unable to communicate. I talked to both of them as though they could hear all that I said.

My experience of sleep paralysis has taught me how wide awake your senses can be despite being unable to react or communicate and I will always make a point of talk to the dying and be mindful of what is discussed in their presence.

No longer scared of dying but a little disturbed.

 This happened a few months ago.

As a regular cyclist I could say I have had a few near death experiences at the mercy of distracted or impatient drivers but this was nothing like that.

I have been a rational atheist and as long as I remember and never been in denial about the fact I will die some day even from a really young age but then something happened that really freaked me out.

Nothing special happened that day and therefore I wasn't particularly stressed or tired. I retired at the normal time to bed and dreamed away. I don't always get enough sleep to dream but there was no late night online poker or work that evening.

I have no idea what time it happened but I was not myself and whoever I am was dying. There was no falling off a cliff, accidents or drama I was just laid somewhere.

It wasn't scary or distressing in any way it was surreal, tranquil and unbelievably serene. I can't explain the feeling of being at absolutely at peace and without fear. There were no bright lights or tunnels but the strangest feeling that I was separate from the body. There are no words to describe just how serene it was. I left that place wherever it was and continued my sleep.

I was in no hurry to leave the dream and woke at the normal time relaxed and refreshed but with an air of calm.

Later that day I found out that my wife's uncle, who I had met on a few occasions but lived quite a distance away, had died. He had been in a coma for a few months after a heart procedure and had passed away peacefully in hospital!!

It did make me think a little but I have no reason to suddenly become religious I am happy being quasi Buddhist.

How we met all those years ago.

1986. A year of bad fashion, Aids, thatcherism

I was an outwardly confident inwardly less so eighteen year old. Girls were still a bit of a mystery although I pretended I was a bit of a stud I'd never had a relationship longer than a couple of weeks.

Simon, a friend I met at the gym spending more time talking than training, did arrange a couple of blind dates for me. One was a moody punk with a vicious teenage attitude and the other was a huge sweaty ugly monster of a woman. The problem with the sumo was it was a double date and as a favour to Simon I spent the night tolerating her without giving her the slightest hint I was interested.

I can't remember why but I decided to get a CB radio. A little note to younger readers, it was a an old version of MSN messenger where you could meet and talk to people but only a couple of miles away. Amongst all of the "14 a roger" and "breaker break" I met a few people. There were some no so good things about the CB radio. It attracted strange and even scary people and anyone could listen to your conversations.

There was one voice I could talk to all night, her handle was "Scarlet Angel". She was the sister of someone I had met. A fifteen year old local girl who's voice was sweet as ..... Everytime I had a chance to get on the CB I was calling "14 scarlet angel" or heard her shouting "14 rainbow quest". I never tried to imagine what she may look like just enjoyed talking and hoped to meet her one day.

A couple of weeks passed and her brother persuaded her to "eyeball" me. It was great timing as I'd just invested huge amounts of my hard earned money in a Ford Fiesta Mk1. It was diamond white but only the basic model as insurance companies wouldn't touch an eighteen year old with a proper engine. I thought I looked the business in it though.

We met at her local shop, I found out later that she wasn't going to bother as Coronation Street started at the same time. Her brother was either her chaperone or virtually dragged her there. I pulled up and looked across at this plainly dressed shy looking girl. She was petite with a big coat on and the unmissable feature were her gorgeous big blue eyes.

I didn't fall massively head over heels it was more a case of just wanting to get to know her more. She wasn't the usual tarted up barbie doll that most teenage boys, including me, lusted after but there was just something about her.

The meeting was brief as she had strict instructions not to get into the car with a hormonally challenged teenager who may be a rebel. I found out her name and I absolutely needed to meet her again.

Fantastic news, she still wants to talk to me. We chatted on the CB for a few more days and then I met her again when a few of us decided to meet up and go for a ride. We stopped at a pub but she looked uncomfortable. I didn't really understand as I had been drinking from the age of 14, by the age of 15 I'd perfected the art of looking sober for just long enough to walk in the front door, say "I'm off the bed"  and walk upstairs. I was regularly getting regularly very drunk at 16 and 17. I was the original binge drinker for a couple of years. The theory was that if I couldn't get layed I'd get plastered and I was useless at chatting up girls. As the youngest of three sons I was the first bad boy. My other two brothers had never bothered partying in town so I made up for it. After a little while my parents decided to just hope I'd grow out of it. At 18 I had a car and the excitement of maybe being caught underage drinking had passed so I stopped and became a one pint man sensible driver.

Another evening we were out with CB friend again and I was allowed to drive one of their cars as I was covered by my insurance.

I wouldn't have let me drive! The first night I drove my first car I was trying to impress a girl, Michelle, and was stopped by the police and given a few words and a speeding fine.  A few weeks later I was trying to impress Michelle again and as I was showing her how to use the gears I crashed.  She never came in my car again!

We were out enjoying just riding around and I was probably showing off a bit again. I lost the car on a roundabout bumped over a kerb and landed in a bus stop. Luckily it had just blown one tyre, which may have caused the accident as it all happened a bit quickly, and we were not too far from my house. The shocked passengers and owner of the car stayed with the car and I used it as an excuse to walk with my new lady to fetch some tools.

I didn't want her to be too shocked when she met the dog so I warned her about our alsation as we walked and talked. We arrived and mum was in the kitchen as I looked in the shed. The shed was one of those concrete outbuildings directly opposite the kitchen door with the outside toilet at the side of the house. She raised her eyebrows in that embarrasing that parents do when they see you with a potential suitor. I saw her relief to see that our Alsation had shrunk as a Yorkshire Terrier greeted us. As we walked back to the car, not in a particular hurry, I started to realise that I really liked this girl.

It's a fantastic feeling when you look into the eyes and deep into the soul of someone special.

We hide so much from each other.

You can look deep into someones soul through their eyes but they still lie. You are still influenced by the the mouth with its lies and false smile. I don't mean the sort of selfish and vicious lies that I despise more the false assurances.

I believe that you can only truly get to know how someone is feeling when they think no-one is looking. Many people are very confident and happy on the surface when aware of others but catch their expression for a few moments before they see you and it can be very telling.

I am no different. On the surface I am a confident businessman who is happy and in control but in reality I am as fragile as most, don't like being alone, self conscious and prone to episodes of short deep depression.

I remember vividly catching my wife unawares one time a few years ago when we had separated in town for a short while. My heart sank as I saw her dwarfed by what looked like a massive bag. She was obviously frustrated to be painfully struggling along  and overtaken by OAPs. In that brief moment I saw how she feels on days when the RA is getting the better of her and I had never this seen this side of her before. When we are together and I look into here eyes I still see the teenager I met, her being not her body, but  now I studied her as you can a stranger. I waited for a few moments before walking to greet her and her eyes lit up pleased to see me as she hid her troubles again.

I hide my feelings from my wife too it's something we both know we do automatically to protect each other.