Just a Thought

So this morning I read in various newspapers, that there seems to be a change of mindset, trickling through “the media influencers” of any importance that is. Victory!

Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com

It started with Laurence Paul Fox, who is an English actor of note and political activist, when he expressed his views about “the woke” fraternity, quite openly on a British television programme a few months ago, and the you know what hit the fan!

A few days ago, Alex Baldwin, the very well know actor and father, expressed his views about the “cancel culture” which is a cruel way to bully people. Good for him.

And the this morning the most amazing thing was the utterance’s of Sean Lennon, the well know and talented musician, who, on his Twitter account, was having a brilliant rant about the Politically Correctness gone rogue! (🧡love it.) ‘I know very well that the idea of being “colour blind” is out of fashion that MLK’s vision of character over skin colour is considered to be naïve , ‘ he said in part of his twitter.

Below is the link with regards Sean Lennon’s Twitter, if you are interested

John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s son Sean , 45 , slams ‘PC culture’ for ‘over sensitizing people· to arbitrary characteristics like skin· color’ in random Twitter tirade https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-9613715/John-Lennon-Yoko-Onos-son-Sean-Lennon-hits-PC-culture-Twitter-tirade.html

When Dr. Martin Luther King verbalised his dream, he wanted, dare I say, needed to see a world in which people saw character first and colour not at all, it is something I have strived for all my life. It is irritating, to say the least, that there are people who arbitrarily decide to try and change, what many of us have held sacred for years, that is the words and ideals of good, strong people who are devoted to their dreams and beliefs, such as Dr. Martin Luther King and I must include, our very dear Mr. Nelson Mandela.

All the men above loathe and detest BULLIES, which you may recall, so do I, and it is just a thought, but this sort of insidious behaviour we have been watching grow over the years, reminds me of the “terrible two’s”. Those little darlings could become little bullies, if we dont redirect those energies into something more creative. Those of you that do not have children may not understand, but here goes.

Photo by mohamed abdelghaffar on Pexels.com

“I wont”, “I hate you mummy”, “I wont speak to you anymore”, “I want it, want it now, (a growing rage and tantrum usually caused by sheer frustration and usually in public). The frustration for the child could be anything AND is similar to the adult version…..which as we know also could be anything! but mainly the need for attention, to be “adored” a need to have the most friends/followers, the biggest birthday party, and “the want” of materialistic items etc. And a big red button which says cancel! This could be comical but it is not. This is all common sense 101.

Oh my gosh, that is a part description of the “terrible twos”

So I am truly, greatly, thankful, to the four men I have mentioned above plus dear Pier’s Morgan who have all put their true beliefs out there for the world to see. I admire them for doing so, while I, like so many others, also sharing their beliefs and of course, there will be some who may berate them, although I think they care less about that!

As I am not on Twitter (funny use of word!!) Instagram (instant gratification) and other messaging apps. please spread the word of these good men.

P.S. for P.C.s Sorry I only used the word Mummy but the other variables are sooo long winded, and I have not got all day. 🙄⁉

How Do We Stop The Bully?

adversa virtute repello even if I am in a wheelchair!!!

The child was a small 15 year old, her eyes stared at the camera, they were large brown eyes with complete and utter terror in them pleading silently for help.

The larger girl was 14 years, I could not hear anything as the video was silent, maybe I should have pushed the volume button, but I am glad I did not. You could see an arm flaying around, as if to hit the smaller child. Her mouth now opened wide.

This was posted in the public domain a few weeks ago. I was appalled, sick to my stomach, scared, furious and bewildered as to what causes this destructive behaviour and what could we do “help”. Of courses bullies have been part of the human history for as long as we can remember, but because of social media, a curse to us all, it is highlighted more. Just so you have the whole picture, this young girl went home and after saying hi to her mother, went to her bedroom and killed herself.


So are the bullies acting out more for fame, power, or adulation? Or are they, maybe, being bullied themselves? Or are they watching an adult bully in their social or family group? Do they have low self-esteem? Well the list could go on and on, but what I do not understand is How we can allow this to keep on happening? Here is another question, How does this behaviour happen in a school yard, are there no “Playground Supervisor ” Prefects, or Teachers walking around? Do parents notice changes to their children’s emotions, eating habits, blue screen time, or is there no family time to eat and talk, or to flip the coin, and to ask advice from their children, if they themselves are being bullied at work.

The lists are endless, but we always come back to the main question why? Why in this day and age of finding answers on just about any subject you like, there are still bullies and the bullied? Of course bullies are not confined to the school yard, you see it in Old Age Homes, Retirement Villages, Offices and other Workplaces, in our homes, child bullies aged parent, Prisons, Hospitals, and so on

He Feels Nothingness, Despair, Loneliness & Fear

Yes, I hear you, what can one person do? Well, I won’t be one person, will I, as there will be others doing the same. It matters not, that I may not be able to stand to confront them, I can still interrupt a discourse of cruelty, even for a moment. And if we could stop one incident each, that would be the biggest achievement deserving of a bigger accolade than an Oscar! Please say you are with me on this, in any small way you can. Remember little actions can grow into amazing bastions of strength.


Why do you want to bully me?

Is it so I will flee?

Why do you hate me so?

You scream at me, you bellow.

Why can’t we talk this over?

Do you think I will be a pushover?

Let us find our common ground,

Far from your screaming hounds

When I look scared, do you think you have won?

When I say nothing, will you be done?

SueB. bloggerbarnes


My last post was, in a way, to do with bullies. Bullies, of course, can be found in every aspect of life, any age group, ethnic culture, social situation, financial scale, educational abilities and so the list goes on. The cancel culture is one of the worse part of a bullies arsenal. Why do I think that? Simple really, it is because they suck others into their ring of cruelty, and get others to do the “dirty” work. It is a rare situation to find a bully working solo as they prefer to lead the pack. There are also the loud mouth bullies, and the emotional bullies, the ones that have all the privileges in the world, and yet they bitch and moan publicly about how hard done by they are. Those are more insidious than a rattlesnake.

In my last blog I did liken bullies as circling wolves. This is no disrespect to wolves, because their end need is to feed the pack. For the bullies, on the other hand, it is a lust for power, control, with a skewed sense of being popular.

So what can we do about this? How can we stop this behaviour?

Both questions are difficult to answer, as the answer lies in a personal desire to want to change situations around them, but it can be done. And because of social media, we have all become far more aware of the wrongs being committed, if not in our own circle of people, then definitely in the world.

Boudika – Wikicytaty

Last time I published my blog, which was about a fatal and tragic bullying incident, I had no idea how incredible brave my sister could be. I am well aware of her inner strength and what a quietly determined character she is. But I was in awe of what she told me, via Skype, 3 days after the blog was released.

While out walking in a secluded tree lined “alleyway”, she noticed, up ahead 3 young people coming towards her, two were walking and the other, a young boy, was being swung around in a windmill fashion, his head skimming the pathway! As they drew level with her she stopped and calmly said to the young child, “Are you alright?”. The small boy, having been put down/dropped by the much older boy, (late teens) looked at her and mumbled something but she could not make out what that was. As she straightened up the old boy stared at her in a very threatening way and screamed “Wot’s it to you?”

Menacingly, she said ……nothing, thats right, she didnt say a word, just a steely stare, with booted legs planted firmly to the hard ground and the chin defiantly jutting towards the bully,( although her heart was beating fast and furious and she did feel a tiny bit tizzy) With that the older boy turned on his heels and walked away, with the other two following him. She carried on walking, but took a quick look over her shoulder to see all three were still walking and no more “windmills.”


So my point is, although not all of us have Boadicea genes, she managed to defuse a situation, which could have had a very tragic ending, had his head met the ground. She saw the older teenager involved as having the potential of becoming an abuser or worse. They seemed to be on their own, as in no baying mob, and she had her long walking pole, if need be.


Shopping is an obstacle pathway to test the ingenuity, strength, (mental and physical,) with a goodly amount of strategizing & forward planning for the wheelchair operator and partner.

And that is why I very rarely go shopping.

My mantra is “avoid stress if possible” well to be truthful I have a wardrobe full of mantras I can fall back on, depending on an array of situations, such as time of year, the situation or task presented to me to complete, people I may or may not want meet and so on.

So this little story is about Shopping.

In the beginning, (the beginning you will remember from blog 1 & 2,) and as I could now get into the aqua physio pool without incidents, (well except for the changing room funnies.) I did think as a reward for my hard work, a pleasant incident free morning out to our local shopping centre was in order.

This was about 10 months after leaving hospital. I had helped hubby no end as I had progressed from the transfer board, to my self-designed gymnastics to get in and out of car. That is one reason I always wear trousers!

So, car, chair, lift down to the shops, yeah, we had arrived down to the ….to a ghost town of sorts. Monday morning shopping is a good time. Not a person to be seen, except the shop serving personal, *oops I hope that was woke enough*.

They all looked bored or expectantly as I sailed passed their shops. Sailed is not quite the right adjective to use, as it was more huffed and puffed, (which are verbs) pass the shops!

I zoomed into the shop I had always enjoyed; it was then that I realised how different things are from down here. Please refer to the opening photo, do you see how high the clothes are?

The isles between the clothes racks are nanoscopic, I almost felt claustrophobic, but I bravely wheeled on.

It was a maze, I could hear my husband calling my name, but very faintly, as all these clothes dulled the sound’s, I waved but unsure if he saw my arm, would it be long enough to be seen over these racks?

Now I can see the shirt I had risked my life for and all I had to do was get it down from the rail which was too high for even a non-wheelchair person in 8“ heels.

Calls of “anyone there? I need help please“ was falling way off the mark, but at that point hubby appeared round the corner. He was on his tippy toes sorting through the tops only to say sorry they do not have your size.

This cheered me up no end, as I as it came as no surprise to me that my size was not available, as it very rarely is.

I was near exhausted as we exited the shop hubby said he would push me. (silly me to allow that)

 His spatial awareness is limited as he has a cataract, but what could go wrong? We are now going shopping in a Hypermarket with wide isles, good lighting, and some shelves within easy reach.🛒🛒🛒🛒

Going to Hypermarkets is usually to do a bit of bulk buying, not to buy 2 tins of baked beans, it is for that reason that the trolleys are so enormous and therefore unwieldly, stupid little wheels that have never been oiled or serviced since they were made.

It is rather like having a Mini’s wheels on a dumper truck, you just know this is going to end badly.

Still, high hopes, this is, after all, supposed to be an enjoyable day out shopping.

I had always enjoyed driving, but navigating this enormous trolley around isle ends, similar to a blind corner, was difficult to say the least. Especially as I could not see over the steering bar.👀

 Also, remember, hubby could not see round the corners as he was way back.  

Luckily, I did not get hurt when we knocked over a stack of Teddy Bears, or the Cup¬Of¬Soup`s as it was only cardboard packaging.

But when I saw the forklift bearing down on me with stacks of washing powder on board, I did feel it was time to call a halt to the days` festivity.


And that is how I met Nkosi.

My hubby was beside himself with frustration, so took the trolley away from me and strode off.

Please know it is not possible to spin a wheelchair around unless the wheelchair is designed for off-road acrobatics. But no worries, as a hunky young man dropped down beside me and asked if he could help in any way.

Now, if a piece of delicious eye candy offers help, what is a girl/old girl to do?👩‍🦽

The only thing possible, accept his offer graciously, try not to show your absolute excitement, and do try to be demure.

Something I have never mastered. Lesson 1  How to start a conversation with a stranger, who is pushing your wheelchair, while looking at the back of your head?

Lamely, I said, I am sure I have seen you at the Gym. That broke the ice as he laughed out loud & I noticed people staring.


After he had composed himself, he told me that he was lucky not to have to go to gym as he gets enough workout’s in his job. His job, it transpires, is a swimming coach for children, the elderly, and disabled. WOW, wow, and double wow!

By this time, we had slowly ambled through the Hypermarket and arrived at the computer section, which my hubby would know that is where I would go, so no surprise to see him waiting for me, with his bulk shopping done! He duly thanked my “chauffeur” for putting up with me, said our goodbyes and “hope to see you agains”.

As we drove home, I thought what a brilliant day it turned out to be, it is the little things I so appreciate and the bad things I have learnt to shrug off, like that very rude woman in the restaurant a few weeks ago. She was staring at me all the time, so I stare back, she then accosted me and said, “what are you staring at?” how charming was that!! After the days adventures the thought crossed my mind that maybe I should “become” motorized.


Who listen to a boy cry? Who cares if a man cries? Nobody, why?

A Boy Soon To Be A Man

Why do I wear this cloak of silent strength?

Because you keep me at arm’s length.

I will soon be a man for you to love,

And keep you safe, like a little dove.

But I too have great deep feelings,

As I wonder at the world’s dealings.

Good or bad they are here to stay

But I will never be far away,

Man or boy we are allowed to cry

And that I cannot, will not deny.

I earn your respect, as you earn mine,

It may not  be easy or perfectly fine.

But we’ll work as a team, I promise you that,

But please, don’t ever say I am a stupid prat.

Give me space to think things through.

I will find a way to start anew,

Talk, don’t scream or hurl abuse,

What good is that? what is the use?

Man or boy we are thought to be strong,

But that conception is so very wrong.

Man or boy we hate rejection,

Like you, we desire protection.

I will share your love of shoes,

As you may listen to my views.

Together we will learn to grow

As we transverse the highs and lows

And that is what it is all about,

Without a shadow of doubt.

I understand we do need both ..emotions & common sense

But please remember, I grew up in the “past tense,”

I am not an urban man as yet, but give me time

This will be a very big mountain to climb.

Let’s share the mirror to say, “I love you”.

Oh my goodness, this all so very new.

As I have now exposed my inner soul

It’s like I have given away my “control”.

Not, control, what sort of a word is that.

It makes me sound like a pathetic brat.

I have so much to share on who I am,

This is so difficult, more like an exam.

Boys and men are the same as you

They have emotions, & feelings too,

But time is a healer of all things human

So, wait, don’t let us go to rack & ruin.

Growing up we were surrounded by violence,

I am nearing the end and seek gentle silence.

I have no respect for a man who hits a woman,

I have no respect for a woman who hits a man,

Did that surprise you? Not all men are violent,

But there is great strength in being silent

And at last we will understand the theme,

We are now a team, no we are THE TEAM.

When people don’t win they “cancel”. The “cancel culture”, what is that?  It is cruel. Like the baying of wolves, the circling of sharks, and the same as the bullies in the schoolyard. Have compassion, stand beside & protect those being bullied.


the honeypot of life!

Wanting to send words of love, friendship & healing,

To our Friend Marty, who is searching for meaning,

She’s read all the books on positive thoughts,

While drinking her iced vodka & creamy shots.

She shared her story with all of us folk.

And once in a while cracked a joke.

So, here’s to you in love, friendship & healing,

Can’t wait to see your pretty face smiling & beaming!

              Sue B.  19th April 2021


My dear grand daughter (25yrs)asked me

To Share With Her What I Have Learnt As A Woman?

So Here Goes!

 Firstly, know I am a wrinkly 73 year old

But the luckiest woman in the world,

Which I knew, as the newspaper unfurled,

As the stories in there will break your heart,

But if you can change it…then please …go start.

Striving For More

Knowing my limitations but striving for more,

One step at a time for a really good score.

We don’t need to join some hash-tag group,

Like the girls that run as a singular troop,

 Or delve into our sacred subconscious                        

Causing us to become overly anxious. 

We also don’t need to be greedily envious,

Rather be kind and somewhat generous.

Although we are strong,

We are sometimes wrong,

My Angel

We therefore need time for reflection,

Listen to your Angels, ask for protection.                            

Accepting our spirituality, in all forms it takes,

Don’t listen to rejections, for heaven sakes!

By talking and listening to all younger people,

Listen To The Young!

It lays the ground for a very strong steeple,

Because, you must know, they have much to give,

They help me to understand….my life to relive,

SO, what have I learnt as a woman?

Well, I don’t need to compete with a man,

 As I have all the Strength to succeed,

On that we surely are all agreed.

To accept or try change my faults,

Before I head for the gloomy vaults.

To keep on trying until I get it right

To use my wit’s rather than fight,

Be truly thankful there are good men,

Who help women, again and again.

You are not weak when they open the door,

Just remember, they are here forevermore!

And, as no one said life would be fair,

We have no reason for despair.

You have, what you have, as that is your path.

So, no use complaining or starting a wrath.

Try to enjoy every glorious minute of being alive,

That way, you will do so much more than survive.                      

Look in your mirror and say,…..”I love you“,

As that is the start to cementing your glue,    

But if you don’t say it…then who will?

listen to your heartbeat..

Listen to your heartbeat, by keeping still,

As that is the rhythm, your life may take,

Your are a true women, no…not ever a fake

Sue Barnes 2018 July Woman’s Month for my Grand Daughter



After I had crawled to my  wheelchair, in Alex’s practice rooms, and successfully climbed into it, she looked as pleased as “punch”. I, on the hand, looked & felt like I just completed my first marathon. Alex said ..”there was now a long road of practice, practice,” and guess what? Yes more practice.

I remarked that I wished I could swim rather, as I have always enjoyed splashing around in water.   And that is how Bob & I learnt about a small pool about 8 meters by 15 meters in the very same hospital where my new life had started.

Bob took me there a few days later and we learnt there is a procedure, & assessments which all people, wanting to use the pool, are required to go through. You cannot just jump in (not possible for me at this point anyway) and off you go, protocol’s.

There is a physio assigned to you, who will assess your abilities such as balance, core strength, determination, and I suspect a willingness to listen!

This could be fun, I thought to myself, and after she had asked me to complete a few challenging exercises, she felt I would definitely benefit from Aqua-Physio.

My new physio’s name was Kayleigh, she looked so young and so petite, this of course worried me a little, as still being “the blob”, I did wonder how on earth she would “manage” me in to pool?

Getting into the Pool, was Scary, with Nervous Giggles from me!

The HOW, I was going to get in and out, is best seen in this picture (from Pinterest.) (which I have no idea how insert I have been trying all afternoon) so this was my effort

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is ducking-chair.png

But I did not wear the dress or hat! The contraption squeaked & groaned loudly, it was also awfully slow, no electronics here just human endeavour. Kayleigh’s  actually.

It was the most frightening journey I have ever made, except of course flying.

AS my toes felt the water, I started to breathe again, not long now, I thought. But it stopped with a terrible juddering, suddenly I see Kayleigh standing in front of me in the water. How nice, I thought, & then… but who is at the controls of this monstrous machine? Because I don’t see myself swan diving the rest of the way down into the pool.

So, who was at the helm, of this wretched chair? Yes, of course my dear husband, he was there in body, with his hands on the handle, but no driving license.

This may end up in tears, I thought. I held my breath expecting to be well and truly dunked into the  water, the temperature of which was unknown to me at this point.

But on this occasion Bob did exceedingly well, his expression said it all,.. “a piece of cake, my dear,” and I slowly descended the last few meters into the surprisingly warm water, oh what heaven, I wished I had brought my soap-on-a-rope! You will understand that since the 23rd of June 2017 I had not been in a bath, well I had, but that was a complete disaster, a blog left for a different time. I had many bed baths, at the beginning, and now showers.

As I was helped out of the chair, Kayleigh had to prise my fingers off the armrest, it felt other-worldly as I felt weightless, my legs began to do as I asked of them, albeit slowly and wobbly. Kayleigh had wrapped a water noodle under my arms and steered me to the side of the pool to hold on the safety rail.

So started the beginning of a 3-week (2 sessions per week) stint of learning to balance, walk, squats, and climbing out of the pool via the steps, which happened quicker than she expected and I explained, out of all the lessons I had to practise, climbing those steps was at the top of my list, because the indignity and sheer terror of THE CHAIR was all the motivation I needed.

Once Kayleigh was happy with the progress and determination I had shown, she no longer came into the water, with me, rather sitting watching from the side of the pool; and no doubt gossiping with Bob. A short time after this victory, Kayleigh was assigned to a different branch. That meant a another physio and another assessment. After that evaluation, I was given an all clear to come and go as I pleased at the pool.

What a fantastic time those 2 years were, we met the most amazing people each week at the pool, one especially comes to mind, I always called her “My Angel”, she was about 11-12 years old when we met, she is a special child born with Cerebral Palsy, in the beginning she would just stare at me through the window while waiting for her physio, but as time went on she would wave back at me, smiling. Then one day she said to me, “Hello Angel” I was so touched and incredibly pleased, especially when she blew kisses to me.


Barney & Maggie

a short story of loyalty and unconditional love.

                                                              Maggie the Scotty with her brother Barney. These two little ruffians just happened into our lives. But they have been with me every step of the way. They even had a sneaked visitation to the Hospital, they sat outside the window staring in, when suddenly the penny dropped, with me calling and waving, they looked straight into my eyes,…have you have seen surprise, shock and terror on a dogs face? They turned around to Bob and Michie, and I thought they were going to make a run for it but they didn’t, nevertheless, we now have the pair of them squealing and scratching at the window in absolute delirious excitement. Lucky I was still in the isolation room so no nurse’s around. But  still, it is something that has stayed with me and, silly as it might sound, stayed with them, especially Barney as I can’t  go anywhere and I do mean ANYWHERE, without him leading the way.  Maggie is also  loyal, especially when she hears the rustle of paper or a knife on the chopping board as that is a sign of food!  I tell this little story as I am amazed how truly special these dogs are, we got them both from rescue places but different ones and about 18 months apart. Then 18 months later we moved to a much smaller house and garden…its called down-sizing. Then a year after that, almost to the day, is when I started the 18 week stay away, so yes I am impressed they remembered me.


So, to visualize the Amazing Alex think of young, blonde, blue/green eyes, tallish, with a ready smile and a way of encouraging you/me for the slightest new or extra movement completed!   She was also stronger than she looked. Well, she had to be…remember, I am, at this time, the blob.

Alex started by teaching my husband, Bob, the safest way (for him and me) to move me around. It was the funniest thing, especially when we started with the transfer board.

It is the gangplank to freedom, but a tad undignified, the bed is higher than the wheelchair and the whole point is to slide regally down the board and plop into the Wheelchair.

Well, that is if the board is highly polished or lacquered, sadly it was not, as it was a ridiculously small plank from the timber yard, call it rustic, so there were splinters a plenty and because of that, there was no regal entry to the Wheelchair. It was more bumpety, bumpety, bumpety, caused by Bob yanking the back of the pyjamas in an up/down movement, shouting “move along everyone” As I said earlier, laughter all the way, and the occasional scream of fear when I heard the PJ’s tear.

Going down was getting easier but going up had a different set of challenges.

Of course, the other lesson was the knee-to-knee configuration, a stunning movement in ice-skating with startling results; on dry land though, it is a totally different kettle of fish!

Later that day there’s Bob, slightly red in face, but looking pleased with himself, as he had conquered the knee-to-knee dance with me, he looked at me with a big grin and then flipping let me go! (this happen before a lesson called RECOVERING FROM THE FALL)

Bless, I think he had forgotten my legs did not work, I never got to ask him why he let me go, because he had shot out of the room and then the house to find someone to help with the big heave-ho.

So, getting back to Alex, she came three times a week to begin with and it seems now looking back, that in no time I graduated from bed work (building core muscles) to standing, balancing holding on to something, (which you would have thought this Retirement Village, we had moved to, would have handles galore BUT no, you want handles then you put them up yourselves) and then my first tentative steps with the walker.

The lesson on how to get into and out of a car was repeated quite a few times with the gang-plank and once a neighbour came to help, without us even asking, that was nice.  Who would have thought it would take 3 adults to push pull and bumpety bump one adult into a car?   The question being, why do I need to get into a car in the first place? As I had no desire to go to the shops or anywhere else, but you see Alex had a scheme, which she had not shared with me yet.

By the way, I was/am still reliving the escapades I had under pethidine, when I closed my eyes at night the same sights and sounds come flooding back, but now I can control them, which certainly gave me hope that I was not barking mad, but a madness I enjoyed with my parameter’s and my goals.

So those of you hissing “she is a control freak” well yes, I suppose I was but if I did not have control and share the control, how would I have progressed beyond the beginning?

One of my granddaughters, Michie, moved in with Bob after about the first month to 6 weeks of my being in hospital. She was a great source of love and companionship to Bob, but at that stage she was not really into cooking, so Bob did the cooking which was good because if he had been on his own, he probably would not have cooked. The mystical age of 24, why indeed should she cook.

When I came home, Michie stayed on and it was a pleasure, as every evening after she finished work she would come home but I would be in bed, (Bob use to put me away at about 4pm!)

Michie would lay on the bed beside me, telling me about her day at work, the friends she had seen that day and small bits of gossip. It was a great way to connect with another generation, to understand how they saw the world, she also wanted to know about my age group, their wants, and aspirations, so we learnt from each other.  How privileged I felt that not only did she share her time with me but shared her thoughts and aspirations.

And when she suggested I write a poem for Women’s Day celebrations for her charity, Swan Shine, I felt proud and humbled that she would think I had something to offer. But I enjoyed writing the poem and by what she told me, the young teenage ladies from Soweto enjoyed it too.

Every evening she would massage my feet and back with the CBD oil that her mother made, now that was bliss. Each morning she would help to dress me and brush my hair, I could see she was tense when doing this, but a few days later the truth did come out, my hair was falling out in clumps, it’s the medication, not to worry, but she was so upset. I started using a brilliant shampoo soon after, now my hairdresser can not believe the growth and condition now. (if you want to know the name drop me an email)


Alex’s scheme was to get me to go to her practice rooms, by doing so, I had to get in and out of the car, that was good exercise and once confident enough, walk with a walking aid; but until then it was the rustic board change over! And you remember what I thought that little malarkey!

Oh, but the worse little game she wanted/needed me to play was the fall. I mean really, what was going on in her mind, but has it turned out something particularly useful.

We had started this at home and the trick is ….oops I fall, so now sit on 2 books, then move across to the step-up step, then to a foot stool and so on until I had reached my goal of getting into my wheelchair.

Sounds so quick and easy, no stress there then… and in the comfort of my home the plan came together and was executed in under 40 mins, (37 min. actually) But that was because Alex had arranged all the equipment needed in a circle, and Bob was there to do the occasional bumpety bump holding on to the back of my trousers.

But when the real fall happened 2 months later it was a different story. Isn’t it peculiar how an important lesson can dissolve into “mush”, never to be retrieved from our brains when it is needed?

So there I am on the floor, scream like a banshee for Bob, as he comes in the room those beautiful blue eyes 👀 looking terrified, “Haven’t I asked you to be careful, walk slowly, you know you have a dropped foot,”     So now the hunt was on, the books, the step-up thingy,  the footstool, the bigger footstool etc. He was rushing around collecting, discarding with a lot of muttering, like his life depended on it, which of course it did!

I never quite understood why he asked me……” What books should we use?”

Long story short, an hour and 17 mins later after laughter and tears, I was in my chair with a new determination of “never again”, and a glass of wine to steady the nerves!

So, we decided to come clean with Alex and tell her what miserable failures we were, and we could almost see her mind going, aha, but she said right away “I have a good exercise today for you, now easy-peasy slide out of the chair on to the floor, turn on to your stomach.”  What, no this is not right, I thought.

Alex moved my chair to the other end of the room; the small room thank goodness. “Now as quick as you like leopard crawl to the chair” she said but with her eyes twinkling.

I did it! Although not quickly, the floor was ridiculously hard to sensitive nerve endings, but I DID IT!

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