Thoughts that go through my head when I am out for a ride.

On the farmers trail

All in all, it has been a pretty good day today. Especially as my dad is now home from hospital. You see, about ten days ago, my dad wasn't well at all. He has had a terrible cough which has been going on for months, and over the weekend leading up to the 14th of April, two days before my fifty-seventh birthday, he looked and sounded dreadful. 

On the Sunday evening before I went to bed, I was really firm with my dad, saying, "Tomorrow you must make an appointment to see a Doctor". My dad promised he would. I was working part-time on Monday, and as I drove home, I got an unexpected phone call (Don't worry I have hands-free in my car). It was wor, Kyle, "Grandad has been admitted to  hospital, I am with him now, they are carrying out tests", he went on to say. "Okay, I am coming straight through", I replied.

Upon getting to the University Hospital of North Durham and not being able to find a parking space, let alone a disabled space, I became more and more stressed and irate. Muttering to myself "I fucking hate this hospital, it's so stupid, not fit for purpose" along with a string of other tirades. You know where I ended up having to park? Fucking Greggs over at Framwellgate Moor. In fact, I parked there two days running, asking permission from the friendly staff and buying half the shop as I felt guilty.

Before I move on, I may as well stop on the parking front. One day, whilst I had entered the carpark and drove around to see if there was an available disabled spot, I saw that this lady was pulling out. I pulled just past her with the intention of then reversing in. Guess what? This fat useless fucker nipped in just as the lady pulled out. I was fuming, so I reversed back, beeped my horn as I wound my window down and said to the driver, "Did you not see I had asked the lady if she was coming out? What do you think I was parked there with my indicator on for? To which this rather obese bald bloke angrily got out of his car and said "What do you fucking think I have been waiting around there for?'. There was a quick back and forth of words, some of which I don't think I should write down here, but put it this way, one of them rhymed with "Hunt". I then had to drive back around and, fortunately, found a spot in the paid car park. Isn't it funny how you can think of a hundred more things to say that would be a lot more entertaining once you are away from a situation? For example, I may have said " You fat fuck the walk would do you good", or " Keep your hair on". I couldn't believe it when one of the fat bloke's retorts was "Errrr you old git", I mean, how did he know I was about to turn 57?

Apart from the parking, the staff over at Durham were fantastic with my dad, and by all accounts, they didn't want him to leave as he was a "star patient". So following a diagnosis of pneumonia and being on steroids, antibiotics and a fair amount of oxygen, I am pleased to say I picked my dad up for his release on Wednesday, so that is ten days he had been in. Thank God he is home and on the mend because I hate going food shopping with a passion. I may only have one leg, but I go around like the Tasmanian Devil, just chucking stuff in me basket in a "Get me out of here" fashion.

This morning, around 08:00, I thought I would pamper my dear old dad, so I made him a sausage and bacon sandwich, with a nice hot cup of coffee and brought it up to his bedroom. The pair of us then just chilled, in fact, I had a bit tinker on with the book I was writing, and then it was time for me to go and get my haircut. My dad kindly offered to take me, so I took him up on this. Man, my hair is going grey, yes, I know it is partly due to my age, however, these steroids I have been on and off since last year have played havoc with my follicles. My hair has been dropping out, and even my eyebrows are now almost all white. I feel proper old when I look in the mirror, and yet my mental age well, that is still somewhere in I would say early twenties. I guess I could dye my bits n bobs, it may make me feel better; however, then I ask myself, am I really that vain?

Coming out of the hairdresser's and having left my phone in dad's car, when I checked it, I saw that there was a new post on Facebook, written by my dad. Upon reading it, I had to swallow back the tears, as my dear old Pops had written some very kind words. Call me a big softie, I don't mind. I readily admit I can be a sensitive soul, part of which is due to certain traumatic experiences throughout life that I will always carry with me.

Upon arriving back home, I rushed to get in and have a shower. I hate the feeling when I have just had my hair cut and all the prickly little hairs are on my clothing, like around my neck, irritating me, "Ahhh, that's better".

Straight out of the shower, a quick dry, some gel in my hair, and I got to look my best as I intended, going out on my bike to attempt to get a picture to pop on the front of my aforementioned book. It didn't take me long at all to get ready, quite an achievement for me, as usually I am always searching for some specific article of mountain bike clothing or equipment.

Happy to be out

Off on my Santa Cruz Heckler,  I headed, going so far up the farmer's trail, before stopping for a photo opportunity. I have written about the farmer's trail

extensively in my book, so I thought it might make for an interesting image. I had this idea of a picture which was taken from one I had seen Sean Connery as James Bond, standing next to his Aston Martin DB5. It was shot in black & white, and I thought a similar picture would look jolly good on the front cover of my book. I mean, I am neither Sean Connery nor James Bond, but hey, people could see I rode a bike and had a unique sporting prosthetic.

Think I like this B&W for the front cover of  my book

Setting off again up the farmer's trail, I met a friendly man walking his dog, and we began having a chat about nothing in particular. We spoke for some time as we went from the back end of East Stanley all the way down into No Place, then we said our goodbyes, and I headed off down towards Beamish. Reaching Beamish, I cut down onto the C2C, passing the JCB cows and headed all the way up past Stanley and went along to Annfield Plain. I then cut in at the Morrison through the gates and fences near the power station. Gutted here as I clicked my brand new Endura jersey on some damn thorn bushes as I tried to squeeze between them and the gate post. Man, it was really, really overgrown in this area, more so than I have ever seen it, with all the whiny bushes out in bloom with yellow flowers and those dagger-like thorns.

Santa Cruz Heckler SL CC

Had to come past all the whiny bushes

Riding onto Chapman Wells where the foot and mouth cows were buried, I took a detour through another one of those large swivel-like gates, reaching my bike over the barbed wire fence. I then set up my GoPro, which seemed to take ages, to try and capture some "On the bike Shots", as I passed my camera. Total fail, I realised upon looking at the footage when I got home. All I had was about 12 images of a large tree, no Glenn or his bike insight - delete.

Over by the pond at Chapman Wells

Picturesque

I did manage to get some more shots over by the pond at Champpman Wells. On the approach to the pond at Quakies, my nose was running as it had been from the start, and me coughing, with a sense of my chest and lungs burning from this chest infection, plus with being so unfit. I suddenly became aware of an awful smell of dog shit. I stopped inspected my bike, and did that cursory thing where you try to look around at your back, just in case some of the mucky stuff had splashed up, but I couldn't see any. I rode a little further, but the smell was still there. Now I know I have been bad with my guts, but I was sure I hadn't shat myself. Never mind, by the time I reached the pond and then set off again, the smell had gone, maybe it was on one of my tyres, and the dusty trail had removed it.

Riding around, and it had been some time since my overactive imagination began whirring and words started popping into my head, somewhat like a poem of today's adventure. I have tried to recall what I was thinking and then wrote this.

  Just a little adventure

An Endless supply of drugs for an unknown disease. A string of antibiotics for a chesty wheeze.

A trip to the barbers to get my head sharpened in the same old style. It's now all old and grey, just like a vintage car its seen a fair few miles.

A ride out on my bike to clear my mind.Venturing around the same old loops searching for something new to find.

A dripping, snotty nose, wiped upon my sleeve. There goes that sodding cough again, that sounds more like a bark.

I then notice this smell that has been hanging around for at least the last half mile. I stop and check for dog shit to see if it's on my arse tyre or possiblyeven my shoe.

No horrible brown mucky fudge, but I curse nonetheless. Why do people just leave dog crap dotted around, it's even hanging in those little bags in trees.

I jump back aboard my steed and continue upon my ride. Until I come to a large pond and go to investigate and take a good few interesting snaps.

I love to be out in nature, to just relax and empty my mind. My reverie is broken, though, by the sound of some honking geese who land with an almighty splash.

Time to start off once again, I'm so pleased my ankle is holding up. It's now time for a climb up the farmer's trail, where once there was a bath.

Now at the top and heading along to Wagtail Lane, where the windmills are turning so slow. I love to hear their swooshing sound, and see the shadows of their blades.

It's now not too far from home, and a choice I have to make. Cut down by South Moor Golf Course or go the long way around.

Oh, and before I move on, I must say a huge thank you to my good, in fact, no, great mate Lee for his help in sorting out my cleats on my shoes and helping me to get in a much more comfortable position when riding my bike. Today, I didn't suffer from Achilles pain when out on the trails. I can feel a slight twinge now that I am sitting down typing this, however, it's nothing like the pain I experienced way back in December of last year when I did something to my ankle and heel.  So Lee, if you are reading this, thanks, and I will be out for a few rides with you hopefully soon.

Once at home, a quick change, and it was almost time for my weekly guitar lesson with my tutor, Tom. Tonight's session, man, I just couldn't get my head around. Sometimes I really, really do think I am as thick as two short planks. The simplest of things, and don't get me wrong, music and music theory are anything but simple, especially when you are trying to learn later in life, but at times things just go "Pheww" straight over my head, no matter how hard I concentrate or try. I am still enjoying trying, so, not about to quit. In fact, I am pretty proud that I can play along to some of my favourite songs using this app I have on my phone, called Chord AI.    

 

Once Tom had left, I began sorting out the photographs  I had taken, editing them and even placing text on the picture I had chosen to be my front cover. As for my book, I entrusted it to some friends & colleagues from work, so that they could have a read-through and help with any grammar, and punctuation and also offer feedback as to whether it is naff, interesting, or if it gets you hooked so that you want to delve deeper into my journey. So far, I have received some pretty positive feedback, and my cousin David has been an absolute superstar in practically editing, proofreading and offering advice. So a huge thank you to wor David, Sam, Jennifer, Krista,  Laura, wor Kyles's girlfriend, who both my dad and I have yet to meet, and who I haven't heard any feedback from as yet...Maybe she has read the book and now knows what a complete madman I am. Oh, and of course, The Ern, who helped me recall stories and also had the odd chuckle, so I knew I was going in the right direction.

Thank you, one and all.

Anyhoo, here is the final front cover image I have decided to go with. I also hopefully can include an inside cover that has some meaning that people will understand once the book is published. The book is 81,848 words long with 23 chapters, and I will let everyone know its pricing in the three formats I intend to have it come out in, so ebook, paperback and hardback. I wanted the hardback version as well, it will be like a sort of keepsake. Once published, I suppose I could add an author to my limited list of talents.

Lost2bFound - Glenn Johnstone

Okay, bye-bye for now.

With a little help from Drugs I'm now walking and Riding

With a little help from some drugs, namely steroids and prednisolone it has enabled me to venture into being somewhat more active these last four or so days. In fact, I even attempted a little ride out on my Santa Cruz Heckler eBike, the very bike I did my Achilles in on, last December. I haven't been able to ride not just because of my ankle, but also this ongoing illness. Speaking of which now that I have been contacted by the IBD nurse and informed my symptoms don't exactly fit with the ulcerative colitis I was originally diagnosed with. So in reality I am now in what feels like No Mans Land. All I know, or understand is that when I am not on these steroids I find it very difficult to function and lead an everyday normal life, both at work and home.

I guess I am going to have to just take my own advice that I always bang on about and take one day at a time, concentrating on the small victories and when things are not so good, we'll deal with them as and when.

Yesterday my dad and I had a ride out locally, only going up to Quakies and parking in the turning circle at yon side of Quakies, so that we could go for a walk in the nearby woods, over towards the Morrison and then onto Chapman Wells, returning back to Quakies to jump back in my dads car. It was a lovely day and although we didn't walk far it was lovely just walking along at a snail's pace and chatting with my dad, plus we crossed paths with a lady who helped train our Baxter at the puppy classes, so we must have spent a good 20 to 30 minutes standing just passing the time of day in polite conversation, how both my dad and myself miss wor Baxter. I would love to get another dog, it's just that they are so expensive and I'm not sure I could take the passing of yet another one just yet. I know 2 years is a long time in the grand scheme of things, however it is weird how grief can linger on, for a pet, who was just as part of our family as any human being.

The reactalight in my gigs makes them look like sunglasses

As we walked around the various areas I took random pictures, of nothing in particular, it was just so lovely like I saw to be out and spend some time with my dad, who to be fair hasn't been feeling too great ever since his COVID-19 vaccination the other day. The pair of us just appear to have these endless Cold and Flu symptoms, which have been going on since last December.

My Arctic One bracelet

I am still an ambassador for this amazing foundation, Arctic One            

   

Wow check out all the solar panels at the Morrison

The Ern

Lots of prickly things on Chapman Wells

This is what I think is to release the gasses from the earth after burying thousands of cows during the foot and mouth outbreak some years ago

Morrison Busty Low Carbon Depot

Just me "Alreet like?"

Following our walk, my dad drove over to B&Q in Washington. We are in desperate need of a new kitchen sink and tap, as ours has been leaking and looks scruffy after years of use. We had a good look around and purchased a new sink, a kind of old-fashioned brass mixer tap and a couple of brass-looking water traps. I also suggested having a look at some new kitchen cabinet handles, that would match the brass tap, as our current ones are silver and could do with being replaced. I just thought some nice cabinet handles would also revamp our kitchen a little, so this job is now on the to-do list.

Following coming out of B&Q I was starving, so I suggested something to eat from the nearby burger trailer. Whenever I am on these steroids it is amazing how my appetite comes alive. In the past when I have felt ok with no health concerns I have never been what you would call a lover of food, or a big eater. However like I say when I am on the drugs I relish the thought of food and can't stop eating. An order of a 1/4 pounder with cheese and a carton of chips and gravy for me then, and my dad had a sausage and egg roll, which we washed down with a couple of steaming hot white coffees. That is another thing when I am on the steroids I can pretty much eat and drink what I want, whereas when I am off them and become ill I have to be very careful in what I eat and drink. It's a real pain and rather depressing, but hey let's not go there, this post is about the small things I have achieved in only the past 4 or so days.

This morning I fully intended going for another little walk with my dad, however when he awoke he looked proper poorly, so declined a look-out. I decided I would therfore attempt a short ride out on my bike, so that is where I have been this morning.

I rode over towards South Moor, going past the Pines and thought I would pop around to see if my old school friend Carl was in. I hadn't seen Carl in like ages, and as I turned the corner to his street I could see his little Suzuki Jimny parked up, so rode to his house and knocked on his door. Carl came to the door in his dressing gown "Oh I am sorry I hope I haven't woken you up" I said, Carl replying "No you're alreet man" I then extended my hand which Carl accepted and we shook hands. It was great to see Carl and I must have been there at his standing talking with him for a good 40 or 50 minutes. We discussed how both of our health had taken a hit and decided life was too short and we must make more effort to get together like in the old days and go for some rides out together. As with all my close friends, I am not ashamed to say I love this man. When you start to get older and then suffer ill health it doesn't half make you reflect on where time has gone and all those things that you thought were important, in reality, they weren't. Spending quality time with people you love and respect is what is important and making lasting memories.

After saying toodle pip to Carl and setting off again on my little test ride, where things were going much better than I imagined. No pain in my Achilles, I mean I was knackered riding my bike, but hey my fitness is shot. I haven't been exercising in about 6 months. Just as I approached the Black Path, one of my other friends Lee called me. I had tried ringing Lee earlier in the morning to see if he was about, so that I could have a ride over and get him to have a look at my bike set up, for fit, and hopefully any ideas why I may have had issues with my Achilles when riding. Anyhoo Lee just said, "Glenn did you try calling me earlier?". "Yeah mate" I said, " It was just to see if you were about to have a look at me on my bike and see if you could give me any tips or advice". Lee said he was going out for a ride, however, if `I was only going to be about an hour I could call in at his and he would have a gander, so that was the plan.

I had a ride around Chapman Wells along by the pond, and then came up the steepish bank on what I affectionately call "The Bath Tub Loop". It's a shame as I will have to think of another name now as the farmer has removed the old bathtub, that the cows used to drink out of. Once up the bank I was out near the top of Wilka's bank and cut along by Wagtail Lane, past the windmills as I call them, the big wind turbines and headed down into Craghead, then turned Left and along to the Font and eventually to Lee's.

Only pic from my ride, as I was just out to see how my ankle was

Once at Lee's another warm welcome as it had been a while since I last saw him, and Lee asked me to just ride around near his house so he could check out my movement on my bike. Lee then suggested that we move the cleat back slightly on my shoe, and once I removed my shoe Lee very kindly used his Allen wrenches to reposition the cleat. I then gave the bike another go and it did feel a little more comfortable, so we left the cleat in its position with the plan I will just keep trying to get out for short rides and see how I get on.

Lee then offered me a nice cup of tea and we sat outside having a lovely catch up, with Lee showing me his revamped bike that he had been fettling and also his shiny new one, that he invited me to have a go at picking up, man the bike is so light and looks like a very nice ride. As Lee was going out he suggested he would have a ride so far along with me, as I was returning home. Just as we said our goodbyes I was gutted when I felt a twang and a sort of a "twang" noise, that's another tendon gone and snapped. Bloody hell man.

The new, well-refurbished Bartlett Tendon I have had to buy is a great piece of kit, however, I always end up snapping tendons for some reason. Plus I have noticed this new knee whilst being super supportive, man I am fighting to actually flex the knee in order to get on my bike. I keep thinking is it so long since I used my BTK that I have forgotten how it should feel, there just appears to be so much resistance in the new tendons. I thought it may have been because the Rock Show shocker had too much air in, or I had inadvertently locked out the shock, but no, the resistance is purely from the tendons.

Obviously now being so unfit and with additional resistance I am finding riding challenging. Oh, and I am also second-guessing my choice of bike. I opted for a mid-power Santa Cruz Heckler SL which I do love, however, would `I have been better off cheating a little more and going back to a full-power eBike? "Meh!" too late now, my only other option is to get fitter. The reason I went for a mid-power bike was because I rarely used the Turbo on my old Specialized Turbo Levo it was like overkill and cheating. It's funny to now think after today's short ride, "Dear me, this full power mode isn't giving me all that much, I am knackered" as I try to cycle up a hill.

Back home my Bartlett Tendon mended with new tendons and ready for its next adventure I just wish I could figure out how to stop the tendons snapping and also step down the resistance just a wee bit.

Oh, and the other day I decided to make my foot a bit more colourful so painted my toenails and nice shade of blue.

 

Do you think the colour suits me?

Tomorrow I return to work I'm feeling relatively good, however in the back of my mind, I know in about 2 months I am going to be back searching for answers as this illness rears its ugly head. I have been advised to also contact my cancer specialist nurse, so I will do that on Monday. It is worrying times, things feel out of control, but hey what can I do? Other than trying to take one day at a time and do the little things that bring me joy.

Okay getting that sense of "Feed Me" so I am off to make something to eat "Mmmmm what to have?"

Ironically I'm attacking myself!

A little ride out with my dad, a lovely day with the top-down

When writing here on my blog I have always attempted to make the content both interesting and honest, with some added humour and possibly some fun facts here and there. Over the years I have written about good times, and the fantastic opportunities I have been fortunate enough to have come my way, as well as sharing some of my tougher experiences, all in the hope that someone may come across my words and either take inspiration or it might possibly help them in some way when experiencing what can be embarrassing or still stigmatised topics, things like mental health or problems in relation to other bodily functions.

I guess if you can read the words of someone who is going through a similar thing, my way of thinking is "I hope you understand you are not the only one" and possibly, or should I say hopefully you can reach out and find the courage and confidence to talk to someone, as in my experience that always helps.

And so I really don't want this blog to come across as all doom and gloom. I am going to try to as always leave it with a positive spin, it's what helps me get through.

Let's have a quick recap just in case you haven't read any of my previous blogs. Oh and in keeping it real I have reverted to my couldn't give a fuck attitude, so if you are offended at this point and think because I have my sweary head on the content is no less valuable, well thanks for reading to this point.

So in May of last year 2024, I took ill with what I thought was a virus. I had the usual upset tummy and the shits. I knew things were slightly more serious as after shitting through the eye of a needle for about a week, probably going to the bog about 10 times a day and feeling like death warmed up things were not improving.

Long story short after visiting my GP and getting a referral to the Inflammatory Bowel Disease Clinic (IBD), things were set in motion for various tests, most as you can imagine being very embarrassing. Now this is where my first piece of advice comes in for anyone going through this experience early on. I happen to work in a hospital and I can assure you we deal with all sorts as part of our jobs. I would like you to think of it this way going to hospital with a problem should be no more embarrassing than say going to get your car serviced, or heading out and buying a new TV. By that I mean the staff in each department are trained to look after you. So when you are thinking "Omg such and such is going to see my bits" or " I can't bare the thought of someone sticking either a finger or camera up my arse, how embarrassing". I know it is a natural reaction for many people, and that's okay. However, If you can stop and think of it in another way, you will see it is just a job that these professional doctors and nurses, who are trained, and I can assure you they will have seen many other people's bits and bobs, and seen just about every aliment the human body can go through. For them, it is just another day at the office. I think at times we can all get so wrapped up in our own little worlds and psyche, and in our heads make ourselves out to be super special, "The only one", and don't get me wrong you are special and you are the only one, however, in the grand scheme of things no one really cares about that zit on your face, if you are carrying a spare tyre, or you are walking with a limp. I mean farting in a waiting room and not admitting to it, then looking around to see if anyone heard you, is a totally different type of embarrassing situation, yep you can't blame the dog on this occasion.  

Anyhoo after several colonoscopies, a sigmoidoscopy, an ultrasound and an MRI I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis and this is where the title of this particular blog comes in. You see Ulcerative Colitis, although not fully understood could be caused by the immune system going slightly tits up and then your own body starts attacking itself. This illness as I have learnt can be debilitating, and I am fortunate as apparently mine is only classed as being mild. That said it has caused me to be off work numerous times amounting to over 6 months.

Treatment-wise last year I received a course of prednisolone a strong steroid and had to take additional calcium supplements with this. The drug was amazing, helping me feel relatively back to normal in a few days. The only side effect that I noticed was that I began eating like a proverbial horse for around 2 months. Unfortunately after a further month or so and going on to a drug called Octasa to try and treat my UC I had some really bad side effects after only being on the medication for 3 days. I was all over the shop, couldn't concentrate, had really bad tinnitus, and my work colleagues described me as like someone on speed. My UC began to flare up once again so I had to have another course of steroids, which you are only allowed to have twice per year. So that was my two courses in 2024.

I was then started on another treatment, this was Salofalk Granules. I started this in I believe late November and initially thought they were working. However in December of 2024 my first ride out on my new bike, when I  happened to do my Achilles in. I thought I had caught a flu virus. This virus and flu-like symptoms persisted for over 4 months and just wouldn't go away. I had to go to see my GP and ended up having two courses of antibiotics I also had to further go back as I felt I had gotten sinusitis, something I had never suffered with before.

It wasn't until I started researching the Salofalk Granules that I discovered some of there side effects. I could list them off and say "Yep got that, that and that!"

Joint pain, severe heartburn, runny nose, sneezing, sore throat and congestion. Flu-like symptoms include extreme tiredness, difficulty urinating, decreased appetite, generally unwell feeling, and nausea.

Something else strange occurred, however, it was not listed as a side effect of the Salofalk. I began getting the most severe and extremely frightening panic and anxiety attacks. I am not sure if these were brought on by not being able to breathe on a night. At times I had this sense of drowning whenever I lay my head on my pillow. My sinuses were killing me and I coughed so much that I ended up with a blood blister on my uvula, that dangly bit at the back of your throat.

I am afraid to say the panic attacks have remained and I now encounter them every day, and even worse they have presented themselves during the day. They come out of the blue over the stupidest of thoughts. For instance, if I cannot remember a word, a name, a movie or a song lyric. If I see one of those daft puzzles on a Facebook page, which I can't immediately solve, or if I am flicking through the channels of the TV and cannot find something to watch. In reality, anything can set them off. Apparently, it is your body reacting to its primaeval fight or flight response, hey I am a fucking one-legged bloke so there is nee way I can carry out the flight part, so I have to just hyperventilate, and try to fight the feelings of insanity. I discovered one thing that kind of helped. I now have to sleep with my bedroom window wide open, so I can feel the cool night air. The only drawback is, it can be fucking freezing on a night and I can't pull. The duvet over my head or I start flapping. I know it sounds funny, but unless you have encountered these sorts of attacks, they are absolutely terrible.

Moving along my whole world has felt like it has come to a standstill and not for the first time in my life. Memories of Black Dogs and their shadow, along with bottomless black holes come to mind. Dark places I really, really do not want to revisit. Following my amputation, cycling became my way of releasing a lot of stress in my life. Unfortunately due to the UC and also as mentioned hurting my Achilles, well I have found myself getting more and more isolated. 

Work became very stressful, and I was in so much pain and discomfort along with fatigue that I dropped my hours, going from 30, down to 24. I had to decide whether I could get through the two full days and two half days I worked without having a trouser accident. Morning became very, very stressful, " Did I need to go to the toilet, once maybe twice, even three times, as we know three is a charm before going to work". Getting on about embarrassment I am one of those people who absolutely hates going to any other toilet other than the one at home. I know, I know it sounds absolutely bonkers. By that I mean I don't mind going for a tinkle, but I hate going for a dump, even now more so that I have a stupid fake leg that makes it hard to sit square on a toilet. So logistically going anywhere other than home is a complete nightmare.

And that just about takes us to the beginning of this week, well Sunday to be exact. My UC began flaring up on Friday and Saturday, you see I had stopped taking the Salofalk on the 16th of March, I just couldn't tolerate the side effects. I decided to go to work and try my best. Starting at 8:00 am I was only there until 10:00 am, and had to inform my colleagues "I need to go home I feel really unwell".

Further contact with my IBD nurse proved difficult as the email messages were so slow, so I decided to wait to have a chat with my GP who I had already had an arranged telephone appointment with on Tuesday. I was so stressed and anxious that I just blurted everything out. My Doctor was absolutely fantastic in listening to my concerns, and in her response and call to action. She informed me she would get in touch with the gastroenterology department and get things sorted, which she did. I was informed  I would need to start on another course of steroids and the following day I was called by the IBD nurse and informed an appointment had been made for me to have another sigmoidoscopy, so that was yesterday, or Thursday the 10th of April as I type. "Oh, how wonderful!!!" and I hope from that you get my sarcastic tone and not the fact I was super thrilled. More fingers up my corn hole followed by the most uncomfortable camera, which felt like it was doing a loop the loop around the many curves of my inner bowl. At one point I thought the machine had broken down and the bloody thing was stuck up my arse. Especially as it felt like the endoscopist was doing some sort of a jiggy, jiggy action to try to remove it.

Upon having the procedure done and leaving the hospital with my trusty chauffeur, The Ern, as we drove home I commented to my dad "I cannot believe anyone would have something stuck up their bottom for mere fun" I can recall seeing a TV programme yonks ago, where they were talking about the types of "Accidents - he says with an undercurrent of a cough", where people came in with various things stuck up their bottoms. It's unbelievable... I mean why the fuck would you want to stick the likes of Buzz Light Year up your hoop, he is never going to get to infinity and beyond up there poor bloke. Then there are things and I shit you not like glass bottles, light bulbs, a fucking live eel, don't think it was electric! Love eggs, a jar of instant coffee with pins in the lid, "Why and what the fuck, how would it even fit", concrete and a can of deodorant, do these people not read the instructions, it's supposed to be used on the outside. The list is endless. It really does make you think that humans are a law to themselves and the most dangerous animal since time began.

Ooh, and whilst I am on about interesting facts, well I am not sure the last bit was interesting, more fucking scary, but do you know what the only creature here on earth is that can go for a dump and produce cube-shaped poo? And I am not making this up, the poo actually looks like little oXo cubes. It is a wombat. They have evolved over the years to have a poo in the shape of a cube so that they can leave the little presents as markers and they don't roll away when marking out their territory. Kind of handy if you get lost and don't have a ball of string, just have a shit and leave a neat little trail I guess. Anyhoo hope it hasn't put you off having an Oxo.

Cube-shaped poo, who knew?

If you are going in for a colonoscopy you can have a light sedative along with gas and air. I would suggest having both of these, it makes an unpleasant procedure a lot more comfortable. The worst part I can assure you of a colonoscopy is having to drink the horrible laxative drink. If you can, make sure you try to get all of the first 2 litres down, as if like me you can't and try and cheat,  then your endoscopist can't see clearly during your procedure, well you may have  to have another appointment made and go through the whole thing again, then they may ask you to drink 4 litres of the vial stuff. The sigmoidoscopy is easier in the prep a quick self-inflicted enema, which I can only describe as what I think it would feel like to squirt a bottle of Fairy Liquid up your arsehole, then after a few minutes you get the most awful burning sensation and as you rush to the toilet it just explodes at a rate of knots. The sigmoidoscopy although it doesn't go as far up in the investigative procedure I found was a lot more uncomfortable, and sedation is not generally offered, though you can request gas and air, which to be honest isn't great. 

Results are in Mayo1 which I think means mild UC. I have patchy areas of inflammation. If this is the case I just can't fathom how it is making me feel so unwell during a flare-up.

Anyhoo at the moment, three days on, and with the steroids, I feel loads better. I am ravenous and can pretty much eat anything I want, and now watch my prosthetic limb won't fit in a week or so as I will become increasingly porkie. The meds have also enabled me to go out for a few short walks with my dad, something I am really grateful to be able to do. Each day spent with my dad as he is now getting on,  and will be 85 this November is a special day. The older you get, the more you come to realise other people who are dear to you also age, and none of us are here forever. So that time spent in someone's company doing the simplest of things is very special.

Out for a little walk with The Ern

The Ern over by a reservoir on the moors near Consett

My dear old dad

I feel I have tumbled down that big mountain of hope and I am at the very bottom once again. My choices of what I decide to do next could be considered either easy or difficult. I could choose to just give up and let all these setbacks define me, or I could choose to pick myself up, face life's adversities and take one step at a time and climb.

I am not ready to quit just yet!

 

Over by the pond at Chapman Wells

Chapman Wells and the pond

As always thanks for reading, hopefully, people don't don't think I am a little too out there. I just think embarrassing subjects need to be talked about and I can talk "shit with anyone LoL"

A final word of advice "It's not big and it's not clever to intentionally go sticking things up your Bung Hole"