The Last Post...

Well, I've tried my best to take all the readers of this blog with me on my journey, but now, I think I've reached the end. Yesterday was my first day back at work, and I dropped back into it like I'd never been gone. It was really great to be back "amongst it" all again, the shouting, the swearing, the laughs and all the other things that make up a typical day in the motor trade. Today I had to make one final visit to the hospital to see Dr Durham about my faint last week, but he seems fairly confident that it was a pretty well a one off. My blood pressure problem (which I still can't remember the name of) seems to be the likely culprit, and as long as I remember that and don't break into a run again, or do anything quite as stupid, I should be alright. Its funny, running to catch a bus is just human nature somehow - especially when you know you can get to the stop before the bus does. Maybe I should know better. I'm an ex bus driver and used to chuckle as I left "runners" - maybe the great god of bus passengers is laughing at me now!

So, I'm back at work, I don't have another appointment with Dr Durham for another year - and that is only a final check before being discharged - so that's pretty well the end of my story. It's funny, but I'm going to miss writing the odd bit for it, after all it's been a pretty important thing for me for the past nine months. That's a thought isn't it? Nine months is the gestation period for new life, and I've certainly gained that. When I think back to the old days, the gasping for breath, the pain, and not being able to even give Marg a dance without having to stop half way through the music - well it's certainly a new life now.

Now, I'm actually looking forward to the next dinner dance and so on. Next month we're getting away for a long weekend, and I can pretty well guarantee the I'll be doing my best to sweep Marg off her feet again - well, ok, I'll buy her a gin - make it a double - and get her up on the dance floor for a bop. That'll be a landmark for both of us.

To everyone who has written, posted and read this little journal, thank you. Those who have contacted me have made me feel it's been worthwhile. If Graham reads this, I hope you're recovering at high speed buddy - drop me a line, I still owe you a pint.

Suffice it to say that this has been a record of my personal journey. No doubt yours will be different, but I hope it gives those following some idea of what to expect. I’m an ordinary chap, I drive a van for a living, and when all this started I searched all over the web to try to find someone like me who had been through this, and could just talk about it in layman's terms. I couldn't find anything or anyone, and perhaps that’s why this blog has become something of a personal mission to me, something I feel for and care about.In every entry I have tried to explain how I feel at the time. There are typos and spelling mistakes throughout it, but I’m leaving them alone. I also think I could express myself better than I have on occasions, but again, I’m not going to edit any of the posts. The whole idea of the blog is to explore how I felt at the particular moment I posted the entry. To go back now and edit sections would somehow defeat the object. Its not a story, it’s not been edited in any way, everything I have posted came straight from the heart (no pun intended), so perhaps it’s time to say some words of thanks, and maybe do some summing up.

First the Thanks:Gosh this is hard. When I think about it I owe so many people my gratitude, from my doctor(s) and nurses, to the surgeon Mr Choudrhi – what a man he is! My friends and colleagues who have put up with my ups and downs, and helped me along the way. Thanks mates, you’re a pleasure to work with. People who have posted to the blog, some I have never met, and never will, but who have shown interest – thank you. Linda in Birmingham, Chris and Maggie, Jude and Ron, all of you make such a difference to me, and I thank you. My family, I’m lost for words with them. All I can say is how much they all mean to me. My brothers and sisters-in-law, Ian and Lynda, Pete and Jan, the greater family, nieces, nephews have all played a part in helping me through this. My own immediate family, Cheryl and David, along with Phil, my soon to be son-in-law have given me so much to care about, and finally my own dear Marg – well maybe that’s best said privately, but 37 years ago I made such a good decision!

So to sum up:Is it worth it? Is it worth the worry, the stress, the fear and a little pain? Oh man, is it! If it were all to end tomorrow, it would still have been worth it. The feeling of getting over that little mound on my first walk, the mound that had become my personal Everest, made it worthwhile, being able to enjoy cold late winter air, being able to walk at a reasonable pace, not to have to stop to breathe – there are so many, many ways in which it is so worth it. I’m now looking forward to Spring and Summer walks, regaining at least some of the strength I had years ago. I’ve been so fed up at feeling like a little old man, now I’m going to go for everything.So that’s pretty well it. I truly hope this helps someone who is going through the same experiences, if it does then I’ll be happy to hear from anyone.

As a final thought, Dr Durham gave me some advice today which I'm taking to heart (how often that organ comes into everyday speech) he just said to me "Go out and live your life."

I'm going to do just that!