Inspiration

When I was unconscious in Stoke hospital my family visited daily, I was very lucky. Julie even stayed in the house that the hospital provides for families. She had been told not to expect me to survive surgery, but being stubborn like I am I defied the doctors.

Every visit she told me that I would squeeze her hand even though I was unconscious. This gave her great comfort that even though I was unconscious I knew she was there. As she left in the evening she would tell me that whatever I did I was to remember "that she loved me".

You could say if you were cynical what is the point, I was unconscious. The Doctors told her on several occasions that "this was as good as it might get", but when I finally woke after the implant of a shunt and came back from being away with the fairies (as I called it) after about six weeks she asked me if I remembered what she told me. I thought and said "You told me that you loved me!"
...

Remembering things that I'm told is hard
Sometimes I write them on a card
Sometimes I don't and forget some stuff
Especially if I'm feeling rough

Someone is there to give me a nudge
But sometimes the brain just will not budge
It feels like something is mis-wired
Especially if I'm feeling tired

...

I peeked through deaths door yesterday. It was ajar. I looked inside, rooted, neither in nor out, whilst, extraneously, a flurry of saviours did their all to cling my soul to life.

I glimpsed inside, oblivious yet conscious of bodily ministration whilst standing on the edge of a bright candyfloss miasma, an all-encompassing, all-enveloping corona of pink.

It holds no fear for me now, my death; I have met you but not yet grown accustomed to your face. I know now my ultimate destination but not the nature of my passing.

So, Reaper, I fear not your scythe for my time, but save that fear for those who grieve, for I have seen the heartache, the ripping of the fibres, the sheer depth of sorrow that is caused by your harvest.

I was held awhile at deaths door but no-one was there for me. So I came home... ...

Hurt, Confused, Battered and Bruised

Short Term Memory No Bloody Use

Vision All Blurry and Balance to Pot

What on Earth Happened to Cause this Rot

Bulging Bubbles that Dare to Pop

How Can Something So Small have Such An Effect

Rollercoaster Ride or Emotional Tide

Uncertain, Scared, Happy and Sad

Exhausted, Fatigued, Angry or Mad

Trials, Tribulations, Triumphs Too

Sharing With Others Who Know How You Feel

A Place to Feel Normal A Definite Plus

Behind The Gray a Positive Must
...