Well, following Richard’s post, I can not add my bit albeit with somewhat less aplomb. I have never tried to share my experiences before. As Richard said; only I really know… or at least that is what my damaged brain tells me.


I had a ‘cold’ in Dec 2015.

Being a typical man, I disregarded my loving wife and continued my 90 hour week as always in that month including the absurdity of a family trip to Sydney and a high-pressure US trip for Raytheon. Points on the BA Gold card… so, I cooked Xmas dinner as always complete with trimmings etc and that cough just would not go away.

On Dec 27 I agreed to be ‘hassled’ by my wife Kim and go and see the on-call GP. This was, as was proved to be lucky, at St Mary’s in Paddington.

I never saw the GP.

Instead, I had an SCA next to the lift.

That was my last memory of 2015

“I think I need to sit down darling“

The easy bit

close up shot of scrabble tiles on a white surface
Photo by Anna Tarazevich on

Little did I know I had raging pneumococcal pneumonia which had gained sepsis to help it to basically kill me. At the time my lungs were 90% damaged. 6 rounds of CPR ensued after my wife screamed and got a Dr out of the ladies’ room. I got to visit the special room normally reserved for the Royal Family and was in an induced coma for several weeks.

That was the easy bit!

I woke up and everything was a bit different… I too had that pesky Action Myoclonus thing, otherwise known as Lance Adams Syndrome. So, I essentially went from retired RAF Fighter Pilot, decorated senior officer of 20 years and senior engineering Manager to a 2-year-old baby. I hit myself in the head with my spoon when I could pick it up. Could not stand, forget walking.

So, there it was.

Life over.

I too dreamed about suicide innumerable times when in the Charing Cross Neural Rehabilitation Unit (CNRU).

Every day was another failure to meet my own standards.

The end?

photo of person using wheelchair
Photo by Marcus Aurelius on

What next, I hear you ask?

Piracetam and lots of it dampened the shaking and jerking, 8g, 3 times a day at that time – the maximum. Lots of physio and eventually release 24/3/16.

With wheelchair.

Special toilet seat, handrails and swivel bather.

Daytime TV as per Richard and eventually Physio/OT outpatient care.

Quite a lot of despair and utter rejection of love ensued. Amazing who you can hurt, just because they care… I discovered that Alcohol makes everything go away… life, love, hope.

No one needs them huh?

Clearly, that’s not the end…

…just the start.

Apple pie

baked pie
Photo by Oleg Magni on

We now live in Sydney, I have loads of nephews and nieces to spoil.

I catch every cold going because I have no immune system, Myoclonus never goes away. I get scared of crowds, transport and anything that changes my routine.

I’m blessed because of what I have now. I might have changed, but that’s all. My wheelchair is in my Mum-in-laws garage. I’m a house husband who bakes a mean apple pie if he can avoid stabbing himself.

I have a 30 year RAF Reunion to go to next week in the UK and I shall.

Am I scared?

Damn straight!

Shall I do it?


You CAN.

That is the start of my new story.

1 thought on “You CAN”

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