It seems somewhat appropriate that I should start this blog on the first anniversary of a life-changing event. On December 16, 2013, 28 years in the high-pressure deadline-driven world of journalism caught up with me. While crossing the road in a busy street in Tamworth, I suffered a stroke and collapsed. I remained conscious throughout, so I knew my left arm and my left leg were still there, but not working.
Thanks to the help of a passer-by who called a medic and an ambulance, I was rushed into hospital, where I spent Christmas and New Year. It took a fortnight before the feeling came back in my arm and leg and I am still working to rehabilitate them a year on. My brain was damaged, a frightening thought if you let it frighten you, but I’m still here, I’m still breathing, I’m still coherent and I’ve had 12 months of meeting new people, doing new things and pushing myself in ways in which I wouldn’t have pushed myself before the stroke.
My days in journalism seem over, as my brain can no longer cope with the stresses and strains, but new fields have opened up to me. New ways in which I can use my God-given skills in writing, talking and helping other people.
I don’t want to look back at what happened, I want to look forward. At 50, I’m too young to just let the rest of my life disappear. For example, I’ve been meaning to write a blog along these lines for several years and never done it; now, I have no reason not to. I hope you’ll follow me on my journey.