Nastiness (Fandango’s Friday Flashback)

Yay, it is Friday again, and Fandango has just published his Friday Flashback post. The idea is that he picks a post from this day in a previous year, to give newer readers a better insight into what does and doesn’t make him tick.

I have always liked that idea, so shall also post my own reminiscence. As much as anything, it reminds me of where I was, where I am now, and how far I have come. Hopefully, you will find it entertaining along the way.


This one is from this day in 2017. I was a year on from the stroke, and still struggling to get around the place. Some of you might say that, even now!

The post really says it all, although I have to say my experience of people’s attitudes to disability has been 99% positive. At last, 99% not particularly negative. There’s actually an awful lot of discrimination around, but this is mostly due to ignorance and not malice. But every now and again there is one twat.

Stroke Survivor

Whatever people might say about me behind my back, I am very fortunate in that the people I meet in everyday life are generally very nice.

I was abruptly reminded today that there are other types of people. A workman parked his pick up truck on the pavement right in front of me, forcing me to walk into the road around it. I mean, it must be obvious to anybody that I am disabled and struggling. “Thank you for your consideration”, I said. “What’s the matter? You can walk, can’t you?”

Yes, I can walk. I learned to again last year during my month in hospital.

I must admit that I feel that the stroke played with my emotions a bit, but the positive side of these incidents is probably that they invoke the same kind of reaction that I’d have recognised in the “old me”.

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Insulin (Fandango’s Friday Flashback)

Yay, it is Friday again, and Fandango has just published his Friday Flashback post. The idea is that he picks a post from this day in a previous year, to give newer readers a better insight into what does and doesn’t make him tick.

I have always liked that idea, so shall also post my own reminiscence. As much as anything, it reminds me of where I was, where I am now, and how far I have come. Hopefully, you will find it entertaining along the way.


I dug out a post today from last year. Actually I was quite surprised when I found it, because most of my health was not very interesting by then, I was three years post-stroke. I guess I posted because it was just quite unusual by then.

My insulin comes in two pieces. There is a plastic pen, about 6 inches long, containing the insulin itself, with a screw thread on the end. I use it several times (about 2 pens per week), using a little bit more of the insulin each time.

The second part is a single-use sterile needle. It screws onto the pen and goes into my tummy maybe just an eighth of an inch. It is not at all like injections as we normally think of them. Most of the time it doesn’t hurt a bit, you hardly even know it is in you.

Sometimes it messes up. Like, less than 1% of the time these days. It used to mess up more often but my “success rate” has improved over time. I guess my technique and my eyesight have improved. But every now and again it still messes up, even today, leaving me unsure just how much insulin I got. Mostly it’s only by a couple of units but this time it was obviously enough to post about.

Stroke Survivor

One of those funny mornings this morning. Was taking my insulin as usual, but when I stabbed myself, it was really painful. It can get like that sometimes, I think where there must be a bruise from a previous injection. It used to happen more in the early days for various reasons, I assume that was because of my unfamiliarity with the gear and the process. So I took the needle out a tiny bit to make it more comfortable.

I pushed the plunger down as normal, but when I took the needle out a few drops on insulin spilled out onto the floor. With insulin, you’re talking about fractions of millilitres, really tiny amounts. I normally shake the pen after use, precisely to see if any drops come out, and normally it is dry.

So I’m left wondering, “did I get all/any/none of my dose?” I assumed not, but…

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Driving (Fandango’s Friday Flashback)

Yay, it is Friday again, and Fandango has just published his Friday Flashback post. The idea is that he picks a post from this day in a previous year, to give newer readers a better insight into what does and doesn’t make him tick.

I have always liked that idea, so shall also post my own reminiscence. As much as anything, it reminds me of where I was, where I am now, and how far I have come. Hopefully, you will find it entertaining along the way.


I had a quick snoop around this week and again found a post from three years ago. I was still in the early days of the blog, and felt the need to explain aspects of myself. The post below is about driving.

The situation now? Well, it is basically unchanged. I still reckon I could drive an automatic, but, of course, we don’t have one. So I’m kinda in a poverty trap where I don’t want to spend out on another car without any income, and at the same time I will have a better chance of securing this income if I had a car!

I have tried driving the existing car, just to test myself, but that just caused a row.

I used to keep a little basket in the car. If I had anything of mine in the car, it went into this basket. As a result, if I lifted this basket out, the car looked like it just came from the factory.

My wife uses the car as her trashcan. She even has crap stuffed down behind the driver’s seat, so it can no longer be moved forward or back. I’m about 5 inches taller than her, so as a result, when I decided to try driving the car, I could not even move the seat back far enough to get behind the wheel in the first place! And she wondered why I was pissed at her … It’s just one of those arguments that married people have. Every time I mention it, she says: “oh, I’ll just stop driving the car altogether, then”. And I’m, “no, just clean the f’ing thing up!” And guess what happens?

Stroke Survivor

Believe it or not, until about 5 years ago, I used to own a Porsche 911. It was a beautiful car, in fact I chose my featured image because it shows the same model and colour (although it is actually just a stock photo and mine was a cabriolet). I’d owned this car for years but for the last few I just drove it back and forth to the rail station, about 11km (7-8 mi) away. I had some expensive things go wrong with the car, and coincidentally, wanted to reduce my footprint.

I decided to buy a smaller car. Ideally I’d have liked a Smart car, although at that time my daughter was still living at home, so although the car mostly had an occupancy of just one, on occasion I needed for the car to seat all three of us.

The best car I found was a Toyota…

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