Continued from part 17 here.

Saturday 22 November 2025

He has waved goodbye to St George’s hospital and moved to the much heralded Stanmore! 🎉🎉🎉 HOORAY!!!

Or, The London Spinal Cord Injury Centre, to give it its formal name.

I would describe this place as a small, super calm NHS hospital, with a leisure centre bolted on and a lovely outdoor space.

It’s all about rehab and mobility. Everywhere is designed to accommodate wheelchair users, so it has a very spacious feel, and my god they don’t skimp on the heating!

Any spare piece of wall has a radiator, or state of the art heat-emitting panel clamped to it.

Including the lovely Garden Pods, which are a great place for a visit. Totally private spaces where you can tuck yourselves in, and enjoy the picnic you’ve brought, not forgetting (just the one) can of Cruz Campo for the man himself.

Graham has been issued with a very busy timetable Monday to Friday with Physios, Occupational Health Experts, Doctors, Counsellors and Educators, so there is literally no time for visitors during the week.

So now it is just weekends please.

To be honest, it’s not terribly close-by for the Surrey crowd (HA7 4LP), so instead maybe arrange a video chat with him, to give him that all important social buzz.

I personally love our video chats, which unlike the real ones aren’t peppered with requests for blowing his nose. 🙌

Please contact me if you would like to visit in person, I will still act as the Gatekeeper for his Visitors Diary, here’s a format that works well:

Rock up with one (or maximum two mates) around 12ish, having warned Graham of the specific time that you expect to arrive, so he can be ready and waiting in his wheelchair, sporting his new fitness togs.

Wheel him outside for your ‘Picnic in the Pod’ while catching up with his latest limb movements.

I’d like to think he restricts the bowel movement updates to just close family, but enter at your own risk.

After lunch you can then accompany him on the guided tour of the facility, whilst constantly double checking that this is all on the NHS! 😳

I’ve never been more glad to be a Brit, it really is a very special place. 👏👏👏👏👏👏

After a couple of hours, he will be getting tired and you will be wondering if you can get home before dark, so it’s time for a group hug and goodbyes. 🥰

We’re not sure how long he will be at Stanmore for, and won’t know until after he’s been fully assessed, the guideline is 8-12 weeks.

By which time, we have never been more confident, that enormous progress with his mobility will have been made! 🥳

Did I mention I witnessed the start of a hand grip today? BOOM!!! 🎉

Toodles!

K8x

To be continued… in a more narrative style… next week.

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Continued from part 16 here.

Wednesday 29 October 2025

Apologies for radio silence… but I’ve been off sick with the flu! 😩

Which means I’ve been avoiding the hospital and popping Vitamin C tabs like they were smarties, under G’s direct instructions.

However, today’s update is big enough to lure me from my pit and back to the keyboard…

I’m going to drop the H-BOMB on you…

HAND MOVEMENTS!!!!!!

🙌🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽

Just to be clear, and you’ll know this by now if you’ve been paying attention, they have only appeared with spasms so far. But it’s a full extending of all fingers outstretched on the right hand during a spasm, which is totally new! 😍

Remember, this is how the leg movements started, alongside a spasm, so we are taking this to mean the pathways to moving the fingers are still working (hallelujah!), all G has to do is find out where the controls are.

Amazing!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

There has also been talk of his nexts steps, he will remain at St George’s for a few weeks, until he’s fit for transfer, and a bed becomes available at ‘Stanmore’, which everyone refers to the London Spinal Core Injury Centre (LSCIC) as.

He will go there for an initial 6 week stint for some serious physio, then come home for 2 weeks, and then back for 2 weeks, rinse and repeat thereafter.

Which in turn means I shall be visiting the frenzied arena that is Sports Direct… a place I have not visited since panic-buying football boots two days before term started 10 years ago… as I have been given a Stanmore packing list not dissimilar to a school residential trip… albeit with less sunscreen and waterproofs.

Wish me luck chaps!!!

Thank you so so much to everyone who has taken the time to visit so far, we all know G is a social animal and these visits really do lift him, particularly as I can’t be there to mop his brow myself atm due to illness.

Reminder: Please don’t send anything physical to the hospital, instead send your best wishes via WhatsApp, which unlike a paper envelope, he can open by himself these days.

Thanks a million and keep sending those good vibes, you lot are doing sterling work here!!! 👏 👏 👏 👏

Toodles!

K8x

To be continued this Saturday at 18:30 BST….

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Continued from part 15 here.

Friday 24 October 2025

He is now settled into the St George’s Atkinson Morley Wing, in South London, which by comparison to Cardiff feels very swanky indeed.

The lifts don’t shudder and there’s 80% less laminates stuck to the walls saying what has broken.

As luck would have it, he has his own private room in the Neuro ICU, but is progressing well in getting off those IV blood pressure meds, so we think he’ll be moved to a ward soon.

The staff here also seem very keen to get the collar off and sit him up, so that will be an absolute treat when that happens in the next couple of days. 🎉🎉🎉🎉

There was some sad news from the journey though, in that his Apple AirPods went missing!!! 😩😩😩

Who would steal Airpods from someone who is flat on his back and without the full use of his limbs?!?

It turns out… no one would… they were later found in G’s nappy pad!

I shit you not!

And luckily neither had G, so we think they’re still useable. 😂😂😂

What’s the visiting situation?

It’s max 2 people between the hours of 12:30-19:30…. but I’m typing this now at 12:48 and they’re not yet ready for visitors so perhaps leave it until 1pm. 😉

G is very much up for welcoming visitors, but please DON’T just turn up unannounced… I will act as the Visitor Gatekeeper, so please DM me if you’d like to come and see him and I’ll slot you into the calendar, we don’t want too many people one day and none the next. 😉

G has visibility on this calendar so he can see who his Special Guests of the day will be and look forward to seeing you! 😃

Please don’t send any cards or anything physical, as there is still nowhere to put them and G can’t yet open them anyway. Send him your best wishes on a WhatsApp instead. He’s getting very good at the ol’ Voice Control on his iPhone. 👏👏👏

That’s all for today! 😃

K8x

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Continued from part 14 here.

Tuesday 21 October 2025

This would have been a very different update had I written it an hour ago… but breaking news…

A Consultant at St George’s, London, has ‘accepted’ Graham as a patient, and he could be going there as early as tomorrow! 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

Providing there is a bed… and then of course, there’s transport… you know the drill by now. 🤞🤞

I am back in Guildford now. Graham and I decided on Sunday that I should head back on Monday evening to try and put pressure on them for the transfer, which was looking very bleak when I left.

No idea, if it worked, or was just a coincidence, and quite frankly I don’t care, just very glad that it looks like he’s moving nearer to home. 🎉 🎉 🎉 🎉 🎉 🎉

Good news on G’s physical front too… although no one said it to us out loud, Graham found out today that he had initially been classified as a paraplegic (paralysed from the waist down), BUT due to his extraordinary leg movements over the last few days, they have now reclassified him as ‘paraparetic’ (partial weakness or incomplete paralysis of both legs).

I never envisaged myself being quite so overjoyed at finding out my husband was paraparetic, and yet, here we are!!!

🙌 🇲🇽 🙌 🇲🇽🙌 🇲🇽🙌 🇲🇽🙌 🇲🇽

As you can imagine, word has spread throughout the hospital about his remarkable positive mindset, teamed with his increasing leg movements, and he is now enjoying random visits from various surgeons and doctors, who just want to chat with him about it and see those limb movements!

Our hero is playing to the crowd and lapping it up, which is all to the good! 👏👏👏

Hopefully more solid news on the transfer later this week, keep those positive vibes coming! 🥰

Toodles!

K8x

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Continued from part 13 here.

Thursday 17 October 2025

Today’s big news is that Graham is off the intravenous blood pressure drug, and taking pills instead, which means that if all is still well after 24 hrs or so, he doesn’t need to be in an ICU… which will give them a wider choice of beds at the next hospital.

Still don’t know which, still don’t know when. Fingers crossed for next week, as it won’t happen over the weekend, and probably the latter half of the week by the sound of it.

We are hoping it’s Royal Surrey, so please slap that on your manifesting boards!🤞🤞🤞🤞

I witnessed loads of intentional leg movement today, without the help of spasms. Lefty is further along than Righty, but I’m sure he’ll catch-up as was performing some nice toe tweaks when G asked him to. 👏👏👏👏👏👏

One of the nurses told us a very inspirational story about her brother who pretty much did the same spinal fractures as G when he was 19, he has since made a full recovery… but it was 10 months in hospital and about 3 years in total on his way back to normal.

So obvs G is shooting for 2 years! Soooo competitive still! 🎉🎉🎉

Charlie has gone back to London, but my mate has arrived to keep me company after hours, so it’s her who should get the Mexican wave this time! What a trooper!!!

🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽🙌🇲🇽

And Nina1 is coming on Sunday! So it’s a packed weekend roster of visitors!

👏❤️👏❤️👏❤️👏❤️👏❤️👏

You probably won’t hear from me now until next week… unless we’re on the move back home! 👋

Toodles!

K8x

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Continued from part 12 here.

Thursday 16 October 2025

There won’t be an official update tonight, as my son ( ) is in town and he’s taking me to dinner!

All good though Graham had another positive day! x

K8x

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Continued from part 11 here.

Wednesday 15 October 2025

No news today on the hospital transfer, fingers crossed for tomorrow, as always. 🤞

It was a calm day, no huge peaks and no new troughs.

Now that the Boy Wonder is back on ‘comms’ reading his own WhatsApps, via the marvel that is ‘Voice Control’, we have more time in the afternoon to just chat.

Before the accident we had a lovely holiday booked to St Lucia, which I’m trying to postpone by two years. The lovely resort said that’s possible. 🤞 🎉

It suits us to delay rather than faff around with cancelling and insurance claims.

It also gives us something to aim for… November 2027.

What will G’s mobility look like then?

What will life in general look like in the next couple of years?

Where will he be on the recovery road at the halfway point, in one year?

We don’t know the answers to any of these questions, but we’re both very up for the journey.

We have both joked with each other that, our semi-retirement, is actually the perfect time for us to face a huge crisis like this. We have time to learn new skills, without the drain of full-time jobs or a business to run alongside this new project.

I am very grateful for that. I literally wasn’t busy when this happened. 😂

“There’s never been a better time to have a serious accident!”

“Don’t delay, crash today!”

“Free wet wipes and ample parking!”

I am surprising myself about how calm and ‘up’ for this new challenge I genuinely feel.
🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰
Maybe I’ll become a physio therapist, or an NLP practitioner, or an Accessibility consultant, or maybe I’ll invent a product that helps with mobility issues.

I’ve no idea, but I’m very curious to find out where this next chapter takes us. 🤓

Enough about us…

It’s Wednesday…

Who do you think is going to win Celebrity Traitors1!? 😮

My money is on Joe Wilkinson!

Lots of love,
K8 kiss space kiss

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Continued from part 10 here.

Tuesday 14 October 2025

I appear to be living in a riddle…

My hotel room is on the 9th floor.

On Monday I took the lift straight to the 9th floor.

On Tuesday I selected the 10th floor and walked down one flight of stairs to the 9th.

Why the two routes?

Answer at the bottom (not upside-down).

Today was quite a milestone for Graham physically.

When I arrived, he greeted me with ‘I’ve had such a busy day, so much news… I was in tears earlier…”

He was trying to be solemn, but I could see through it…

“Tears of joy?”, I ventured.

“Yes!!!” He immediately spilled, “I’ve had Part 1 of my ‘ASIA’ and was able to push down with both legs!!!”

“I know I’m going to be alright now.” He stated.

Obviously this totally shocked me… because I’ve ‘known’ he was going to be alright for days now! In fact, so have all of you, based on the beautiful comments I’ve been receiving!

It would appear he’s the last one to the party… but I guess he’s had a lot on his mind lately. 😉

The science bit…

An ASIA test measures sensory and movement, they go through key areas of the body with light touch and then blunt/sharp to assess where feelings have returned after a spinal injury and what’s happening with movement.

This test is done once a week, so G has had two now… which means we have data!

YES!

I love data!!!!

One week ago he averaged 40 out of a possible 112 score.

Today he averaged 50!

In essence, his score increased by a whopping 25% on average for both left and right sides of his body.

Which means he has 25% more feeling than one week ago!!!

MEXICAN WAVE TIME PEOPLE!!!!! 🇲🇽 👋

👏 🎉 👏 🎉 👏 🎉 👏 🎉 👏 🎉

Thing that made me laugh…

There is a lot of signage here, as everything is displayed in both Welsh and English.

Aside from marvelling at the lack of vowels, the odd one makes me smile, like this one:

“Merthyr Tudful” in Welsh.

“Merthyr Tydfil” in English.

Seriously? Why? Just why? Did they think we couldn’t cope with the ‘u’ sound????

Answer to riddle: because there are two lifts, and the one on the right is missing the 9th floor button!!! Who stole the 9th floor button? 😂

Obviously I tried jabbing my finger on the circuit board revealed by the lack of button, but unsurprisingly it didn’t work.

Love to all! ❤️ kiss space kiss1

K8x

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Continued from part 9 here.

Monday 13 October 2025

Today started with a text message from Graham (obviously sent with the nurse unlocking, and holding the phone, so G could dictate the message to Siri) wanting to discuss which hospital we thought it was best to move him to… Guildford or one that had a specialist Spinal Unit?

“… we do need to discuss this. The only problem is me trying to operate my phone with no hands and no face recognition and Siri being an absolute arsehole.“

Everything is a challenge, when your hands don’t work and you’re stuck on your back in a neck brace.

I can agree 1,000% on his last point. Siri is an absolute arsehole, I can’t imagine how he’s managed to keep his job over the years!

Siri and I have not spoken for years after we had a BLAZING ROW over him refusing to play a voicemail for me when I was driving.

The phrase “you do not have any music called Voicemail”, still makes me want to punch him in his smug digital face.

So there’s no way I was qualified to step in and mediate for G in a bid to save his toxic relationship with Siri.

After a few deep breaths, good ol’ Perplexity AI, stepped in, calmed everyone down, and advised me to check out the ‘Accessibility’ settings on the iPhone.

‘Voice Control’ is where it’s at, and remarkably easy to use… once you’ve unlocked your phone…

Which is a nightmare with no hands, and your neck in a brace, so you can’t move it around enough to establish an ‘alternative appearance’!

Oddly, no amount of gently screaming the passcode at it works!!!

AAAARRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!

I then spend a couple of corridor sessions trying to set-up a ‘custom gesture’ to use with Voice Control, but that doesn’t work either.

This is more than frustrating. Then G suggests we have one last stab at setting up an ‘alternative appearance’ now that we have the ‘goosenecked iPhone holder*’ in situ, rather than my human arm waving around above his face.

*Procuring that puppy was a mission, but I’m getting conscious of character count here…

And hallelujah, it bloody worked!

So in summary, he can unlock his phone with it suspended above his face, navigate to Sky with Voice Control and catch up on the Formula 1!!!

It’s a Christmas miracle!!!

🙌 🎉 🏎️ 🏁 🙌 🎉 🏎️ 🏁

Obviously he needs a nurse’s help to move the phone into position and put his glasses on, but nurses are voice activated, so not as tricky.

Can I please urge all you bikers and snowboarders out there to set-up that ‘unlock iPhone custom gesture’ now, while you have the luxury of your hands and a second monitor to watch HowTo YouTube videos on, rather than trying to do it in an ICU setting with dodgy wifi. 😉

Physical update:

The Occupational Health therapist said, “it’s better, it’s a lot, lot better”. While G was practicing lifting his arm up and down, so he can touch his face, in a controlled manner.

This will help him self-service water… Ribena… beer… wine…. etc, so is über important! 💪

That’s all folks, not much transfer chat today, hopefully more on that tomorrow! 🤞

Big love to you all, keep channelling those positive vibes!

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

K8x

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Continued from part 8 here.

Sunday 12 October 2025

I’m back in Cardiff.

The ICU bed in Guildford went to another poor unfortunate, and once again we await further info on beds, transport and where is best to send our injured hero.

I didn’t chat to any medics today due to my late arrival. Sunday is a strangely quiet day in hospital, and fewer staff means less speculation on the next steps. So we’re really not sure what’s next, but are happy to hang in Cardiff for a while as he’s getting great care and improving every day.

G was in ridiculously good spirits when I arrived back, greeting me with a One-Man-Mexican-Wave!!! 🇲🇽 👋

Also managing to gently lower them back on the bed, which I’m sure all you physios out there would agree is the tricky bit. ✔️

By the time we’d caught each other up on our news over the last day….

Me stalling the truck on the approach to a roundabout and forgetting how to restart a vehicle with an actual key!!!!! 😮 Buggering fuck!!!!!

Him regaling me with this morning’s activities… which included him and the 5-person team that it takes to ‘roll’ him, all laughing about something so much the nurse couldn’t put the suppository in! 😂

Imagine!?

Oh sorry, were you having dinner?

There wasn’t time for much ‘toe action’ but I did bear witness to Righty waving at me mid-boot-swap. 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

He’s such a trooper!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

The science bit… when patients are lying in bed for prolonged periods of time and don’t have full control over their feet, they put a fabric ‘boot’ on for two hours on and two hours off to encourage a right angled ankle, instead of the foot reverting to pointing down all the time.

On a lighter note, here’s a fun list:

• Riding his motorbike around the world, twice.

• Meeting Buzz Aldrin at the Golden Globes.

• Being held hostage by the Taliban.

• Getting a hole in one, on the golf course.

• Shitting in someone’s face, actually, not just figuratively.

As of 12 o’clock today, he can cross all five of these things off his bucket list.

You go Graham!!! 📣

Is there nothing you can’t do!?!?!

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Big love to you all!!! ❤️❤️❤️

K8x

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Continued from part 7 here.

Saturday 11 October 2025

G phoned me at the hotel at 10am to say, the Guildford bed was his, and transport had been lined-up, but that vehicle had to go off to an emergency… while they try and get another sorted.

What to do? Should I stay or go now, so I could definitely drive the truck back in daylight?

Positivity had got us this far, so we decided to go with it, and off I popped!

Cab to BikePark Wales first… the hotel was in a no-Über zone, so I moved the pointer to the nearest place outside it and the street name made me tear-up again… Love Lane.

I went to the end of the street, looked up and there was ‘Guildford St’. I shit you not.

Wow universe! You’re on fire today!!! 👏👏👏

I managed to get the truck and me back safely, despite joining the M4 in the wrong direction… fucking twice!!!

Then rang the hospital to find out G was 1st on the list for transport in the morning… sigh… so keep those fingers crossed!

He sounded very cheerful despite that, because once again his toes have been grabbing all the limelight back at the ward! 👏👏👏

This time toes on BOTH FEET moving deliberately. 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

I wish I’d seen the delight on Dr John’s face… and I’m sure you do too! He’s been getting almost as many enquiries as the G-Dog! 😂😂😂

So we rinse, and repeat for tomorrow… you know the drill! 👏👏👏

Lots of love to you all! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

K8x

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Continued from part 6 here.

Friday 10 October 2025

Another day, another update… and this one’s a doozy!!!

The day started well with another physio session shortly after I arrived…

They take each limb in turn and guide/lift it through a set of motions and ask G to either help them move it, or try and press against them.

When it came to his left leg, he was able to lift the knee himself by about 2 inches or so, which in turn, angled the foot forward! We could see his quads flexing!!! 😮

Admittedly, it took a Herculean effort to move it (picture someone’s face bench-pressing 200kg… or for those of you still in old money: a buffalo), but it moved. Deliberately.

Mexican waves please people!!!

🎉👏🎉👏🎉👏🎉

LEFT LEG IS BACK IN THE GAME!!!

In other news… ‘housewife’s favourite’ Dr John1 told us that G had been signed off to be transferred to the Royal Surrey in Guildford! YAY! Our local hospital! 🎉🎉🎉

And even better, they ‘currently’ have a spare bed for him in their ICU!!!!!

Can you believe his luck!?!

So unless there’s an emergency overnight, G will be coming ‘home(town)’ tomorrow!

Can I please urge anyone in the Guildford area to stay at home tonight, don’t drive erratically, don’t start any fights, and don’t trigger any emergencies!!!

Just all stay very calm please, until G gets checked in (hopefully) tomorrow, and then you can run amok all over town to let off some steam!

In other news…

Most of you know, when away, G and I always play a little game of ‘Celebrity Star Spot’, but given the circumstances, and Graham only being able to see the ceiling above his bed, we had to adjust it slightly and rebrand it ‘Celebrity Star Hear’.

After receiving the news, of his imminent departure, Graham was in such good spirits he scored the first point in this trip’s competition… inspired by the guy in the bed opposite, who, we both agreed, sounds exactly like Gerald Butler from Clarkson’s Farm! 😂 😂 😂

Well played Grimdog!

I’ve no idea how I missed that, must have had other things on my mind. 😉

Phase 1 of the recovery (almost) complete, but MANY, MANY more steps to go!

Thanks again so much for all your lovely messages over the past few days. They have really made such a BIG difference in bolstering me in the evenings, so I can turn up everyday at the hospital with fresh optimism, and cajole our wounded soldier along the road to recovery! 🥰 🥰 🥰

Well done you too!!! 👏👏👏

K8x

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Continued from part 5 here.

Thursday 9 October 2025

So much news today… and all of it good!

Sorry for the late dispatch, I’m only just getting to writing this back at the hotel, whereas I usually do it in the quiet hour and half at the end of visiting hours, as Graham drifts in and out of sleep, exhausted from the day’s activities.

I arrived just in time for a Physio session, followed by Occupational Health, both great sessions showing improved guided movement and areas of his body where feelings were starting to return. 🎉

Highlights included some feeling when the therapist pinched the tip of a finger! 👆

This is BIG!!! No one wants to spend the rest of their life arguing with Siri.

A spasm later on resulted in one thigh, AND THEN THE OTHER, moving up and down!

So that’s two legs together!

Unbelievable! 😮 👏👏👏

To put today in perspective, I must have seen around 20 leg, foot and toe movements, over the same period of time (5.5 hours), versus yesterday’s exactly three!!!!!!!!!!!!

At this rate, I’m going to run out of exclamation marks! 🎉🎉🎉

The absolute kicker came at the end, when Dr John1 was chatting to us about potentially moving him to either St George’s in Tooting, London or Royal Surrey in Guildford… and G’s right toes were twitching away, playing up to the crowd, in a heady combination of spasm and focused will-power! 👏👏👏

And then Dr John said:

“Your progress in such a short period of time is PHENOMENAL.”

So I have never been more positive that G is going to make a full recovery… eventually. 🥰🥰🥰

He said ‘phenomenal’ I tells ya!!!

Oh, and his oxygen tube was removed…

“Are you ready for your close-up Mr Darracott?”

YAS!!!!!

PS: Sending this photo of Graham smiling created a huge response from our friends and family, who were so relieved that I wasn’t lying about him somehow managing to remain in good spirits, despite everything that had happened to him.

It even prompted one of our friends to re-enact the image at home, which gave me the biggest laugh I’d had all week!

Love you Syd! 😘

K8x

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Continued from part 4 here.

Wednesday 8 October 2025

A very positive day for Graham, he loved hearing all of your messages, thank you so so much! 👏👏👏

Some of the colourful language made him laugh, so don’t hold back… I do lower my voice when reading aloud the ‘c*nt word’. 😉

Physical highlights:

I had sightings of leg movement!!! Admittedly it was during spasms, but one leg and foot rotated about 45 degrees and the other leg had a foot twitch and on another occasion the KNEE LIFTED UP a good inch to move the whole leg! 🎉🎉🎉

Just be clear I had not seen any knee action at all up to this point, so am very excited by this latest development!

I’m no doctor, but surely that must mean the connections are still there, he just needs to relocate the controls. 🤞

Start practicing your Mexican waves people, you may well be needing them over the coming weeks! 👋

One thing that made me laugh today…

I was on my afternoon trek down to the M&S and heard music coming through the corridor speakers en route… the song playing (can you believe it!) was Chas ‘n’ Dave’s ‘Ain’t No Pleasing You’…

I missed the Hospital Radio DJ’s intro, but I can only assume it was “this next track is dedicated to the Grumpy Bollox in Sapphire Ward who wasn’t a fan of today’s leek and potato soup! Enjoy!”

Big love to you all! ❤️ x x

K8x

Link to next post in this series.

Link to the previous post in this series.

Link to the start of the story.

Read more from Off on a Tangent

Continued from part 3 here.

Tuesday 7 October 2025

Today’s highlights included a meet with the surgeon who operated on G, he was very good at explaining the situation, but as ever cannot answer the million dollar question of whether he will be able to achieve a full recovery.

However, and this is important, so listen up chaps… because he DOES have feeling in his sacral area, we cannot rule out a FULL recovery. Whereas if he DIDN’T have that, he said it would be more cut and dried and there would be no hope of walking again. So we remain positive! 😃

He also stressed the importance of a positive mindset and how he has seen people recover above and beyond what he thought they were capable of, so we are really trying to do that. 🤞

Please keep doing what you’re doing, and echo that positive thinking back to us, we really cannot tire of all those “He’ll totally smash physio, no one’s as tough or determined as Graham!” messages and I’m sure it will help get us there quicker! 🤞🙏 🎉

Today’s physical highlight was G’s big toe, which moved a full cm forward! Round of applause please. A huge improvement on yesterday! 👏👏👏

And finally today’s culinary standout was the Full Fat Ribena drink purchased from the M&S downstairs, quite the sugar boost! 😳

Our serving suggestion is via a plastic tube for those, like Graham, flat on their backs.

That’s all for today, cya tomorrow! x x

K8x

To be continued at 18:30 GMT tomorrow….

Link to next post in this series.

Link to previous post in this series.

Link to the start of the story.

Read more from Off on a Tangent

Tuesday 7 October 2025

Day 3 continued from part 2 here.

The surgeon who had operated on Mr.D popped by his bed in the ICU for a follow-up. We expressed our disappointment at the decompression on the neck not working, and he was very quick to point out that the surgery had in fact been a total success.

However, the expected result was not that movement would come back to his limbs. It was to pave the way for the rehabilitation to take place. To bolster the spine and ensure it was strong enough to facilitate any movement if it did come.

Oops. I must admit we felt a bit foolish thinking it would fix him.

It’s amazing how many things you forget to ask when you only have a two minute “any queries or concerns?” window at the end of a pre-surgery chat.

I spent the afternoon at his bedside in the ICU until chucking out time at 6:30pm.

Scratching his nose (upon request only), offering up drinks (which he consumed through a bendy straw cut out of respiratory hose), feeding him (the occasional spoonful was accompanied by aeroplane noises obviously), and wiping his eyes (that streamed not only through tears, but the relentlessness of staring at the ceiling).

He had to remain flat on his back, surgical collar on, in perfect alignment for at least the first three weeks… and possibly another nine weeks on top of that.

He dreamt of being able to sit up.

It’s funny how circumstances can wildly change your wishlist.

Every four hours a team of five nursing staff were assembled to ‘roll’ him, at which point I was turfed out into the corridor, as they tended to his needs and repositioned him on his ‘other side’ for the next four hours to avoid bedsores.

This went on through the night too, so sleep was snatched in short bursts, if at all.

Much to my surprise Mr.D genuinely didn’t display any signs of anger with regard to the accident. There wasn’t even a trace of ‘why me?’.

Instead he chose to look back on his 50+ years of high-octane sporting activities and smile, acknowledging that he’d had a very good run at it, and if this was the cost then it had been worth it. He wouldn’t have swapped it for a more sedentary life.

“We always knew it was going to happen,” I reasoned “and now we know when.”

We agreed that all the time things were going well, there was no way he would have just simply stopped Mountain Biking.

It was a running joke that the maximum age for dangerous sports travel insurance was 70, so he would have to stop the trips to Morzine then at least!

There is a strange calm that comes with ‘the worse possible thing’ actually happening.

It’s like you’ve had all traces of worry and anxiety about anything at all surgically removed.

Everything stops.

Nothing else matters, except for the here and now.

With an incomplete1 spinal injury like Mr.D’s there is a hope you may regain senses and function below the level of injury, but sadly there are no guarantees.

No doctor will ever say…

“You will probably be walking again by next February.”

And equally, they won’t say you won’t either.

So you simply stop asking for a prognosis, as no one knows the likely outcome.

Each spinal injury is different and each patient is different.

We were lucky on this last point, as our patient is Mr.D… or Graham as he is more commonly known… Grimdog to some.

He is one of life’s triers, he will put the effort in, always go that extra mile, and do it all with a grin on his face, relishing the challenge.

It was going to be tough, but we could do this.

We decided our best bet was blatant optimism.

We would ride the positivity train in the hope that it would give us an edge.

In the absence of any suggested surgery or wonder drug to fix it all, we had to fall back on good ol’ positive thinking and the hard graft of physio.

There was a chance that limb movement would return and existing neural pathways would fizz back into action, and it’s also possible to create new pathways.

We did have hope, which cannot be underestimated as a power.

And so the routine began…

Every day I would walk the hour or so to the hospital from my hotel whilst listening to ‘You Are The Placebo’ which some friends had recommended.

It’s a very uplifting book about the power of the mind, full of true stories of incredible recoveries and cures.

I would breeze into the ICU at 1.00pm on the dot of opening hours, armed with Ribena and Diet Coke, ready to deal with whatever the day brought.

It usually started with Mr.D telling me he’d had a bad morning, or night, or that the intricately folded up sheet (that was serving as his pillow) wasn’t quite right.

To buoy him up I would share some of the fantastical stories from the book, to give us both fresh hope again.

“They made a load of pianists do finger exercises with their minds and do you know what? Their hand strength improved for real! Amazing!” I enthused.

It didn’t matter whether I was fully bought into the theory, or whether we would ever try it out in practice, but it did put me in a hugely optimistic mood on arrival, and that was worth it’s weight in gold… so I could lift his mood back up.

The afternoons were punctuated by a stream of experts visiting his bedside… Neuro Surgeons, Doctors, Occupational Therapists, Physios, Nutritionists and even a Counsellor.

In between the professional pop-ins, I would read him some of the heartfelt messages that had come in from our nearest and dearest.

Our ‘village’ of well-wishers kept WhatsApp buzzing all day long.

Often the messages brought more tears, but this time of joy, as we felt the huge amount of love flowing in for us.

By about 5:30pm each day, as he drifted in and out of a morphine induced snooze, I would write an update on the day’s news to send to everyone.

I chose to send it out via WhatsApp to everyone individually, rather than as a group, so that they would respond individually, which gave me something to do in the evenings at my ‘table for 1’ in the hotel restaurant.

I would pepper my mouthfuls with typed responses to keep the mini conversations going… knowing if they stopped I would be lost.

For the next two weeks I am going to continue on with the story using the texts from my end-of-day WhatsApp updates, and I will release them at the same frequency as I did then, so you can experience the story unfolding in ‘real time’.

But just to warn you, although shorter than normal posts, the frequency will be daily in the first couple of weeks, so buckle up, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride!

Apologies if you were on that original mini mailing list and you’ve already read them, perhaps take the opportunity to re-live your favourite toe movements.

Oops, I’ve said too much!

Continued here (part 4)…

K8x

PS: If you missed part 2 it’s here.

PPS: The start of the story is here (part 1).

DISCLAIMER: Mr.D has not only signed off on the above text and imagery, but positively encouraged me to write it. The dialogue is represented to the best of our memory, but may not be word perfect.

Read more from Off on a Tangent

Content warning: this post contains references to suicidal thoughts and may be distressing for some readers. It certainly was for me.

Sunday 5 October 2025

Continued from part 1 here.

Back in the Resus Room, Mr.D had remembered he was wearing contact lenses, and needed them removed.

Without the use of his hands, it was the first of many problems to be solved.

So I was tasked with finding a member of the hospital staff who wore lenses and could therefore help proficiently, rather than me gouging around with no technique.

Sure enough, I found a nurse who expertly dispatched the lenses in about five seconds. Bravo!

So to recap, Mr.D has no movement from the chest down… and now… diminished eyesight.

This was not a good day.

A doctor then breezed in announcing the results of the MRI scan.

He informed us that vertebrae C3 and C4 were damaged, and also T4 to T7, but only T’s 4 and 5 had any associated trauma showing, which was highly irregular?!

Mr.D jumped in to explain.

Metaphorically, of course.

“Kate, get my phone, there’s a photo album of X-rays on there, find the one of T6, there’s a red circle around it, I fractured that one some time ago snowboarding. It will also show T7, I can’t remember when I might have done that one.”

Mystery of the missing trauma solved.

Mr.D is nothing if not organised. I love this about him.

The Doctor then went on to explain what was going to happen. They would operate the next day and insert a metal plate to shore up T’s 4, 5, 6 and 7, and build ‘scaffolding’ around C’s 3 and 4.

Once they had opened him up and determined how pinched the spinal cord was, they would also potentially make a couple of incisions to relieve the pressure on it.

We hoped this would bring his limbs back to life.

He was to be first on the operating list the next day, given the seriousness of his injuries.

I was told there was no point in me coming to the hospital in the morning, I should just wait at the hotel and they would contact me when he was out of surgery.

Hotel?!

Good point! I really should book somewhere to stay!

I elected to stay in the city centre, rather than on the outskirts, as all that seemed available near to the hospital were run down B&B’s.

I figured the last thing I needed, whilst waiting for surgical news, was a deeply upsetting décor.

As luck would have it, all the basic-bitch hotel rooms in Cardiff City Central had sold out due to a sporting event, so I ended up with a Superior King Room in the luxe Holland House Hotel.

This is no time to be penny pinching, I reasoned.

If I’m going to spend most of the day pacing up and down in my hotel room, I don’t want to be bumping into a wall after three steps.

Monday 6 October: Day 2

I awoke around 3:30am so I could get a head start on worrying.

My over-thinking brain working out all the combinations and permutations of each percentile of recovery and how life might look for us in the future.

Mr.D phoned around 8ish (with a nurse dialling and holding the phone up to his face).

There was some good news, in that some movement had returned to his arms, hopefully this was just the start.

He seemed in relatively good spirits, or as good as one could be, having been lying flat on his back wearing a surgical collar for the last 14 hours.

“Good luck for today! Get them to phone me when you’re out! Love you lots!”

I was clearly going to need lots of exclamation marks to get through this.

By mid morning word had spread to friends and family, and so WhatsApp started to heat up with all the well-wishers’ messages.

They were a fantastic diversion from all the fretting.

I repeated the story again and again, followed by in-depth speculation on when the next batch of news would come in, based on various mum’s, dad’s and auntie’s similar operation lengths.

Lunch beckoned and I decided to go for a walk around town and grab some.

Did that, came back, still no news.

I had no idea how long it was meant to take, but by 5pm I could wait no longer, and phoned the hospital, only to be told he was still in surgery!

Wow! That must be around seven hours in the operating theatre by now.

They must have opted for those incisions and be doing the spinal cord decompression. I wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad.

I phoned again around 7pm and spoke to the lovely Annie at the hospital, who was looking after him pre-Op, she seemed to think he was out of theatre now and making his way through the post-Op procedures. They normally give the ward a ring before bringing him down, at which point they will ring me and I could go in and see him.

I decided to just head to the hospital anyway, not sure how quick Uber was in Cardiff and I didn’t want to waste precious time waiting on a cab.

Luckily, they phoned just as I was getting into the taxi. He was out of surgery, ‘quite drowsy, but chatty’, and it was ok to come in.

“Don’t worry about visiting hours, they don’t apply, under the circumstances.”

As lovely as a bit of rule breaking was, I wondered when we would be over the circumstances, and no longer an exception to all the rules and first in every queue.

I managed to find the ICU, and there he was.

Motionless in a bed, connected up to about eight pieces of medical kit.

We stared at each other, glassy eyed.

I held his hand, hoping he could now feel something, but nothing.

We genuinely can’t remember anything of our conversation from that night, I think we were both just shell-shocked.

I do however remember being told to take anything of value away with me, so I fished his watch and wallet out of his rucksack and put them in my own bag.

Just his wedding ring left to take, which had been taped around his finger, presumably so no one would steal it.

I felt a bit like a grave robber as I tugged and twisted it quite violently to eventually release it. He said he couldn’t feel a thing. More’s the pity.

Tuesday 7 October: Day 3

The sports crowd had shipped out of Cardiff, and so I decamped to a Premier Inn.

A lot less luxe, but I figured we might need to start assembling a ‘rehab fund’, so money wasn’t to be frittered.

However, I did plump for a Premier Plus room, which quite frankly was the best £10 I’ve ever spent! Totally worth it, if only for the mini fridge, which was very much put through its paces over the next week storing my evening bounty from the nearby Tesco’s… by which I mean Sauvignon Blanc and snacks.

The only thing more depressing than daily hospital visits was surely room temperature white wine.

I took a cab to the hospital around lunchtime, pleased that normal visiting hours were now being applied to us.

There he was, flat on his back, surgical collar on, staring at the ceiling, but his demeanour had changed.

“I’m so, so sorry, our lives have now changed forever,” he started with, as the tears rolled down his face.

It appeared the surgery had not resulted in any additional movement or senses in his body.

We were rather hoping that once the spinal cord had been decompressed, that would turn the nerves and neural pathways back on and things would start to recover.

We were very wrong, it had made no difference at all, no more movement anywhere.

My tears joined his on the crisp white hospital linen, as we allowed the gravity of the situation to sink in.

“I must confess I did ask AI what spinal shock was and how long it would last, and it could be days, weeks or even months!” I offered.

“There is still hope that the neural pathways might reawaken and you’ll get your limb movement back.”

“But if I don’t, will you help me?”

I knew what he meant.

If it were me in his position, I don’t think I’d want to continue on with just my head and no useful body. 100% relying on other people for every single one of my needs.

I think I’d just want to cut my losses and call it a day, rather than live out the rest of my time in utter frustration.

And surely the only thing worse than truly wanting to end it all, was not even having the ability to do so.

I assured him that I would help him do whatever he wanted.

We agreed to give the recovery our very best effort, and if the progress stopped for a period of at least 201 weeks, and he didn’t like where he was, then I would help him register with Dignitas and accompany him there.

I would want him to do the same for me.

“I’m all-in” I reassured him, squeezing his lifeless hand.

Continued here (part 3)…

K8x

PS: Link to previous post here (part 1).

DISCLAIMER: Mr.D has not only signed off on the above text and imagery, but positively encouraged me to write it. The dialogue is represented to the best of our memory, but may not be word perfect.

Read more from Off on a Tangent

Back at my desk

Some of you may have noticed a total lack of posts emanating from my Substack since last summer, and some of you may have accidentally drifted in during the silence.

A big hello to you all!

I’m going to attempt to tip toe back into my happy little Substack land, but please bear with me, it may be a shaky start, given the life-changing events of the past seven months.

Here’s what happened…

Sunday 5 October 2025

13:40… my phone rings… it’s not a number I recognise, so naturally I ignore it.

It rings out and then immediately re-rings… but this time from my husband’s phone.

Bollox. He’s done it again.

I pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Alex, I’m a First Responder at BikePark Wales, your husband has had an accident.”

“Oh no.” I exhale with deep resignation.

My inner monologue has already joined the dots on this…
“It must be super serious. He never normally phones you from the ambulance. Last time you weren’t contacted until the evening, by which time they’d shored up his punctured lung and made him comfortable… or as comfortable as a man can be with ten broken bones.”

“I’ll put you on to your husband” offered Alex.

“I’m so sorry, I think I’ve broken my back, I can’t move my arms or legs,” offered Mr.D, sounding concerned, which is very unlike him. “Alex is having to hold the phone up to my face. They’re taking me to Cardiff Hospital.”

“Blimey! Er, right. OK.” I said. “What happened?”

A bit of background

Here’s the thing… I’m assuming I asked “What happened?” at this point, although I’m not 100% sure.

He had crashed, that’s what happened.

That’s what had always happened as the precursor to an unplanned trip to the hospital.

I knew he had gone to BikePark Wales, the whole point of which was to ride his mountain bike downhill, on their ‘world class trails’, whilst presumably going as fast as possible, and jumping over the features with as much ‘steez’ as one could muster.

The resulting ambulance ride and cacophony of injuries must have been the result of a crash, and I’m guessing it didn’t involve a pile up on the M4.

He would have crashed his mountain bike whilst taking an unplanned exit from the trail. Did the details really matter?

In the same way that he used to crash his motorbike on a track or his snowboard on a mountain.

He wasn’t unskilled in any of these pursuits, the inevitable crash was usually a result of Mr.D pushing it to the limit, so he could find out where ‘the line’ was, unlike most people, who’d rather not know.

When I asked his old mechanic (from his motor bike racings days, who remains a very good friend) how many hospitals he had visited Mr.D at over the years, he replied:

“I remember when he won the championship, he’d had as many crashes as podium finishes that year!”

That’s the thing. Mr.D had learned over the years, that to win, you had to take risks.

Unfortunately, it was a mindset he couldn’t shake. Despite being in his late 50’s and there being no trophy at the end of any of his latest trails, he still pushed it.

“Why do you crash a lot more than your friends?” I would often ask.

“Do I?” Always came the response, as if he hadn’t noticed.

The previous subtotal of 44 broken bones, not quite being strong enough evidence to perhaps rein it in a bit.

Anyway, back to the story…

“What happened?”

“It was a nothing crash, I hit a stone and slid off a berm1.”

There was a massive dent in the front top of his full-face helmet, indicating where his head had met with a rock.

We later found out that this impact caused a compression to the spinal cord at vertebrae C3 and C4, and two further fractures lower down the spine at T4 and T5.

That’s 48 broken bones now, for those of us keeping score.

Luckily he hadn’t sustained any head injuries, the crash helmet had done it’s job well.

“Aaah, that sounds a bit unlucky. Give me a shout later if you want me to come to Wales. Keep me posted. Safe journey!” I chirruped.

Safe journey? Seriously? It’s a bit late for that?!?

Alex is back on the phone…

“He is probably in spinal shock, I’ve seen it before, when the body shuts down all communication with the limbs.”

“Will movement come back?” I ask.

“I don’t know, every injury is different, I’m sure they will be able to tell you more at the hospital.”

“Ok. Thanks for all your help.” I ended the call.

Bloody hell!

The enormity of this latest accident is beginning to dawn on me.

He can’t move his arms, legs or use his hands.

That’s major. That means no texting. No comms!

Mr.D is a great communicator. The previous time he was in hospital, after the last accident two years ago (also in BikeParkWales), he’d reassured me that I didn’t need to come out there, the visiting hours were really strict and he was constantly being wheeled off for another scan.

“There’s really no need for you to come here. There’s nothing you can do, I’ll keep you updated.” Reassured the seasoned crasher.

True to his word, over the week that followed, he managed to keep me up to date and also amuse and delight me with the new hospital game ‘Guess what’s for dinner?’, which entailed him sending me a photo of his latest plateful, and me trying to guess what it was.

I still have culinary nightmares about the corned beef hash.

This time was very different. If he was unable to message me, I won’t know what the hell is going on, or know exactly how serious it is.

I needed to be there.

I decided to go to Cardiff.

Drive or train? It’s about a three hour journey either way.

I quickly reasoned that the train was the best choice as we didn’t need two vehicles in Cardiff, when only one of us can drive now… and then the penny dropped that I’d probably have to drive the truck back myself at some stage. Double bollox.

An hour or so later, my phone went again, another unknown number, this time I picked up.

“Is that Mrs Darracott? It’s Hannah from University Hospital of Wales.”

“Yes, this is Kate, Hi Hannah.”

“We are looking after your husband here. He’s in a very serious condition, we think you should come to the hospital, he will need you here.”

“I figured as much, I don’t normally get a call from the ambulance. I’m already on the train… or rather the replacement bus service for the first leg (sigh). I’ll come straight to the hospital, should be there around half six.”

One of his mountain biking mates met me at the station and we went in together.

My first sighting of Mr.D post-accident was chilling.

He was lying flat on his back, motionless, ‘on the slab’ in the hospital’s Resus Room2.

His head and neck were confined with spinal immobilisation gear, his arms were bent in T-Rex pose.

His expression was grave.

“This one’s really scared me.” He said.

“D’ya think.” dead-panned my inner monologue.

Continued here…

K8x

DISCLAIMER: Mr.D has not only signed off on the above text and imagery, but positively encouraged me to write it. The dialogue is represented to the best of my memory, but may not be word perfect.

Read more from Off on a Tangent

A bit of background

I was reminded of this brilliant social trick very recently, and given that the person I told, was not only astounded at its genius, but also very regretful that her life had been devoid of it so far, I naturally couldn’t help but want to share it with you.

Note-taking is allowed.

We’ve all been there… out to dinner with your partner’s old friend and their other half, which generally speaking, is an absolute joy, I’m sure you’d agree, but very occasionally, it can be viewed as nothing short of a chore.

Let’s do the math…

In this example, I’m going to use married man/woman couples (mainly because of the short acronyms they result in), but I’m pretty sure this must happen in every ‘couple + friends’ scenario, in both long and short term relationships and same sex couples.

So let’s assume that Mrs.A has met and married the man of her dreams, Mr.A, who’s friend is Mr.B, who is married to Mrs.B.

There you are, scientific proof that Mrs.A is three social steps away from Mrs.B, so it’s no wonder, that they might not be a conversational match made in heaven.

Mrs.A will be bracing herself for more updates of Mrs.B’s dog’s dentistry débâcles.

And in turn Mrs.B is only banging on about her dog, to steer the conversation safely away from Mrs.A’s precocious daughter, whom she gave up all hope of feigning interest in after a particularly medal-tastic Sports Day retelling.

I’m sure you’re all aware of this seating arrangement (above), also known as ‘The Nightmare Scenario’ where the two besties naturally sit opposite each other leaving poor Mrs.A staring down the barrel of Mrs.B’s latest colonoscopy saga.

The boys happily chat away like it’s the best night out ever, and the girls end up desperately trying to find some common ground over the latest TV offering.

If they both watch Married at First Sight all is golden, otherwise it’s a long uphill battle to the cheeseboard.

I can heavily relate to this situation, and I’m sure you can too, it’s simply logical that it should happen on such a regular basis.

But fear not, I have a solution to this very scenario, and despite the clear and present danger of revealing it to my trusted subscribers (which includes a lot of my friends, eek!), I have decided to let you in on my secret solution.

I think you’ll agree, that this fiendish set-up, which I devised after years of hard slog at dinner tables across London and the home counties, is as effective, as it is simple and easy to deploy.

So listen up chaps, your social life is about to get an upgrade…

The Diagonal Rule

This theory, which I can assure you has been tried and tested many many times with myself and Mr.D… and our (hopefully) unsuspecting friends, is this:

Once again we have Mr & Mrs A (that’s us!), dining out with Mr & Mrs B (the friends).

Here’s the trick…

Let Mr & Mrs B select their seats at the table first.

Even if ‘ladies first’ is employed, Mrs A needs to hang back long enough for Mrs.B to select her seat.

Mr.B, will then automatically choose one of these two scenarios:

Either works perfectly well.

Don’t fear the diagonal, no couple will ever seat themselves diagonally opposite each other on an empty table, in western society. It has never even been attempted.

This is the genius bit…

You then both seat yourself diagonally from your opposing number:

So whichever one of you has the strong friendship ends up diagonally opposite from each other, as do the social misfits.

The two besties will lead the charge conversationally resulting in the table having just one conversation with all four of you, instead of two conversations with two people each.

The social misfits then get to not only enjoy socialising with their partner and their friend too, but if repeated often, this also allows enough familiarity to establish between the misfits to potentially garner their own friendship.

Obviously your partner, needs to be in on this game play so they can co-conspire with the seat selection.

The good news is that you will find them very eager to play along, as it means you will not try and put the kibosh on future evenings of this kind, and so the net result will be more time with their friend! 👏

The only loser in this scenario is the cab driver, who used to get a kick out of your relentless whining, as you venomously raked over the evening all the way home.

In summary

I can honestly say that we are not currently employing this methodology with any of our friends and their other halves, so if you’re reading this and suspect we might have, you can rest assured that we love you both.

Have fun with it, and yes, we will spot it, if you try this on us!

You’re welcome.

K8x

PS: If you try this out on a future event, do let me know how it went on a DM. Absolute secrecy is guaranteed.

DISCLAIMER: All characters appearing in this post are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Other initial capitals are available.

Join in the comments below:

Will you be using this method in future?

Do you have an equally fiendish method of your own you’d like to share?

Do you and your partner have a social safe word which means: “We need to leave now before I explode?”

Read more from Off on a Tangent

The final book in my holiday reading trilogy, but first…

A bit of background

The way I came to own a copy of this book and actually be reading it, is a tad convoluted…

… you didn’t think it was going to be straight-forward did you?

I first came across the concept of manifesting many years ago with the classic tomb ‘The Secret by Rhonda Byrne’, which I’m sure you’ve all read, or maybe just the successful business owners amongst you, as I’m 100% sure you all have.

Mr.D and I read it quite a few years ago and concluded that we pretty much thought like that anyway, at least about 95% of the time.

We both naturally have a positive mindset, always assuming things are going to go great when we start them. Why wouldn’t they?

And have swam through life in a sea of good fortune and empty parking spaces.

Don’t get me wrong, we are also relentless grafters, but why wouldn’t you put a shit ton of effort in when you know it’s going to turn out great? 😉

However, having read that book, it did not escape our notice that maybe we were successful because we thought like that naturally, both agreeing that a positive mindset is a massive advantage in life.

Then probably 10 years later I stumbled upon ‘Manifest by Roxie Nafousi’, she was a guest on a podcast and went into some detail about vision boards.

As a graphic artist, I was all over the concept of a vision board, this seemed like fun and I appreciated that if you keep things front and centre of your mind, you naturally move towards them, if only to prove that this vision board nonsense really works.

The thing about all of this, is we all REALLY want it to work. This is surely the easiest way to get anything, just create a collage of all the things you want and wait.

“What a piece of piss”, some might say.

So I bought the audio book, gardened my way through it, cranked up Adobe InDesign and put together a beautiful vision board, containing two major things that I wanted to happen, and three major things that I was more than happy with and wanted to stay the same.

This was about June 2023, so that vision board was for the next six months, i.e. I wanted it to come true by the end of the year.

Here’s where it gets interesting… because it all came true!

The heftiest item on that board was the sale of my last company, which I’m sure anyone would agree, is a big ask.

That was ‘top left’, pole position, of all the things I wanted to happen.

It happened.

As did all the other things.

So you can imagine, my believe in the concept of vision boards, went up a notch.

I intended to make another one for 2024, but in my Gap Year whirl of nothingness it never made it past the post-it note stage sadly, so none of the things that I would have put on it came true.

They remained on the post-it, making me feel guilty at not giving them a place to shine.

I was still exploring the concept of manifesting when I happened upon Suzy Ashworth’s podcast1 in early 2024.

She would start each one with a super-annoying five minute pitch for the above book… which she was giving away for free.

Well, sort of free, obviously I had to pay the disproportionately high postage and packing costs, but that doesn’t count, does it? 😂

So the book arrived, I glanced at the back, and nearly died laughing when she describes herself as a:

Quantum Transformation and Embodiment Coach for conscious entrepreneurs.

And swiftly filed it on my bookshelf in the ‘load of bollox’ section.

Seriously?

What about all those unconscious entrepreneurs, surely they need your quantum transformation skills too Suzy?

I love a creative job title, but this really did take the biscuit.

Book forgotten.

One year on… I started January 2025 full of energy and intentions, ‘saved as’ my 2023 vision board and updated it for this year.

Coincidentally, Paul McKenna was a guest on a radio show around that time talking about his latest book ‘Power Manifesting’.

I’m a fan of Paul McKenna, I think he has gravitas in his field and am happy to listen to what he has to say on the subject, so I downloaded the audio book and gardened my way through it.

I must admit most of the theories I had heard before, but one very clever trick which I thought was worth a go is this…

Put real calendar events in your diary for the stages of the thing that you want to manifest.

For example, if your goal was to ‘get your dream job’, you might put a calendar event in February for the interview, then one in March for the 2nd interview/stage, then a later one for the job offer and a final one to mark your first day at work.

This was a shiny new concept to me, and I could appreciate that real calendar events would keep that dream front and centre of mind so it could only help the situation.

And wouldn’t it be beyond funny if it happened on or near that date!

Another huge advantage to all of this, is that it costs nothing to add a few items into your digital calendar, so why wouldn’t I give it a go?

I would, and I did.

Once again, the (top left, pole position) thing that I would dearly love to happen later on this year, is a REALLY BIG UNLIKELY THING (RBUT), a pipe dream if you like.

But if it costs me nothing to perhaps help it along, I’m in.

Around February, the strangest thing happened…

… you guessed it… occurrences related to the RBUT actually started to appear!

Bloody hell!

For realises?

Yep!

The first calendar item related to it, was for the last day of March… when I was now going to be on holiday.

So when I looked at my bookshelf for a pre-holiday browse, that shiny gold lettering grabbed my attention.

“Come on Suzy, you’re coming with me, but if you try and upsell me anything along the way, we’re really going to fall out. Get in the suitcase.”

I’ve always been one to put the effort in, where effort is required, so why not this.

Although reading on a tropical beach isn’t much like effort, I thought it might at least focus my attention towards that goal, if nothing else.

So when poor old Julia Cameron’s second divorce loomed into view, I needed some light relief, and Suzy made it to the beach.

Suzy’s aim is to wrap her readers in her relentless positivity, warmth and encouragement, however if your starting point isn’t that you hate yourself and you’re in the gutter, a lot of it isn’t too relevant.

To summarise, the over-arching premise of this book is:

FAITH + ACTION = MIRACLES

Suzy delivers this life-changing wonder of an equation as if she's letting you into the secret of life itself.

I couldn’t help but be slightly less excited about this discovery, as essentially it boils down to:

Belief in getting off your arse and doing stuff = results

I’m sure many a laundry basket has been emptied using this steadfast philosophy, and no doubt we are en route to curing cancer because of it too.

I.e. is it not just obvious?

How many of you have ever accomplished anything by doing absolutely nothing?

No?

Thought not.

Even a Vision Board requires an amount of effort. 😂

In summary

I’m sure she means well, and perhaps this book can help people who don’t have a positive mindset to start with, but luckily that’s not me.

If you quite like the idea of having a relentlessly upbeat cheerleader coaching you through your next steps, then please let me know, and I will happily post this book to you, so you can give it a whirl! First come first served.

Interestingly, this book’s presence on my holiday, did however do it’s job in keeping the RBUT at the forefront of my mind… and low and behold it moved on to stage two just after we arrived back, which just goes to prove that:

Faith + Relaxation = A Christmas Miracle!

I will keep you updated later in the year, if it does reach fruition (and reveal what it was), and if it doesn’t, we shall never speak of it again.

Keep the faith chaps!

K8x

Join in the comments below:

Have you tried a vision board?

Will you be putting some extra diary entries in for things that you hope will happen?

Have you ever achieved anything, other than a giant shit, by sitting on your arse?

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