Wonky Warbler

And in a flash, but also a lifetime, it ends. I’d been trying to write another blog post over the course of Week 3, but a flare-up and a lot of demons to work through meant that it has taken me much longer to put this into something publishable. I can’t manage 100% honesty about the difficulties that I have had during the programme. (I probably won’t even manage 50% - there is only so much that I can face saying in the public sphere.) I’m going to pick a few of the main things that have been a struggle for me, and save further reflections for another weekend. It turns out that, in my first two posts, I did a good job of pointing out all the positives of the inpatient rehab programme at RNOH Stanmore, but that I rather swept the more challenging aspects under my nice adjustable hospital bed. In the interests of full disclosure, and given that I am trying to paint a realistic picture of the demands of Wonky Bootcamp, I suppose it would be wrong to avoid reflecting on my harder days ...

As I headed back from Wonky Bootcamp at the end of week 2, my mind was full of everything that we had done. I could feel that we had worked hard, with my body grumbling at me all over, but I also watched my WhatsApp go wild with messages of support and kindness from our group. I hadn’t even been gone an hour! There is something about the friendships that we have made on the ward that can’t quite be quantified. We are all very different people but, as chronic illness or injury warriors, we are all fighting through similar battles in our lives. It genuinely is ok not to be ok - whether you need a hug, or a cry, or to be left alone for some peace and quiet. You’re allowed to say that you hurt, or that you’re tired, and you know that the others understand the depths that such words so insufficiently convey in other situations.  The “shoulder crew”, who have been going through a two week rehab to improve their function after upper-limb injuries, had finished their programme. While ...

In the last few days of 2019, my social media was flooded with reflections on the finishing decade. Having spent the last two and a half years in a bit of a struggle, my own reflections were a bit mixed. I have gained two totally awesome boys, a husband who has survived over a decade with me, a lovely home, and a job I love. But I also gained, and then lost, a job and a home (and an identity) that I adored, thanks to a genetic condition that I knew nothing about. Swings and roundabouts, eh?! I did manage to do #NoNew19 with only a pair of new pjs and a 50% reduced new concert dress, but that was more by not buying anything for myself than by finding alternative methods of shopping. I think I’ll save that particular reflection for another day, though I don’t think I’ll be chalking it up to a major achievement... Anyway, I started the new decade with mixed thoughts, but really wanted to focus on a positive. Enter my admission to the inpatient rehabilitation course at the RNOH at Sta...