Category Archives: Ramblings

The Auti & The Dentist: SO – No Emergency NHS Direct or Dentistry in North Wales…??

Right… So my face exploded – for the second time – with an abscess on a broken tooth. It’s in the middle-ish of my lower left jaw bone. Literally overnight (it wasn’t like this yesterday!), this time, it sprang up and doubled in size; this thing is a Monster that’s already made me look somewhat like the Elephant Man already – and I am not particularly interested in a Second Go.

I already had this issue back in February, and it took over almost my entire face and neck by the time I actually got “Treatment” – and that was via A&E and two different hospitals, AND and overnight stay for emergency IV antibiotics, before it burst. Yes, that’s how long it took. I couldn’t really swallow (barely able to take basic medication), and it was affecting my breathing. It was hell… And then finally, they did something about it.

In the end that one was drained by the second A&E department, after they made me switch hospitals (that time it was also a weekend, and the hospital I went to didn’t have a maxillofacial department out of hours. Naturally…). So, after overnight IV antibiotics, I was transferred the next afternoon over to the other hospital. Where they stuck me with an enormous needle, and drained the stupid thing out. Seconds later, my face felt and looked pretty normal…

And funnily enough, I really didn’t want to go through that again.

CALLING FOR HELP…

So… Like a sensible person, the first call was to Out of Hours. I’m in pain, and my poor Autie (aka Autistic) Brain is all over the place, so my Mam (bless her), is doing the phoning (she’s a nurse, so that’s useful at times like these)…

They said, because it’s Dentristy, it’s “Call NHS Direct for them to tell you where you can go” (thanks COVID-19 for messing something else to do with my health up). Fine. Fair Enough. Just call 111, Right…? …. RIGHT..??


Ohhhhh NoNope. Nope. Nope!

Not in North Wales…!

Possibly the ONLY place in the UK where CANNOT USE 111 phone number – their FREEPHONE phone number…

WE HAVE TO PAY!!

In North Wales, under Betsi Cadwaledr Health Board, the people of poverty-ridden North Wales (and that’s before COVID-19) MUST CALL AN 0845 number to reach NHS DIRECT!

0845 46 47

Calls to NHS 111 Wales are free from landlines and mobiles. Calls to 0845 46 47 cost 2p per minute, this will be in addition to the telephone providers access charge.


Nooo, I’m NOT Mad, or Angry… No. I am Stunned. Horrified. Fuming. Furious. Disgusted! And My Mother has to put £10 Credit (as opposed to using her normal GiffGaff “Goodybag”) onto her phone to try and call them. Unbelievable!

It takes about 20 Minutes to get hold of them… And then… then they wanted to talk to me Oh Dear. That is not very Auti-Friendly, but they wanted to talk to me about my symptomology.

I managed it… Just. They told me I needed to phone a specific number, and they would be open between 1pm and 4:30pm today. A free one at least, starting with 0300, and a Code to go with it, as a Reference.

0300 0856 230

She proceeded to give me other gems, like using ice packs or not having things too cold or too hot. Nothing sweet (if that’s the case they really need to re-think how they make Oramorph…!). Just in case I was a complete moron. And That Was That.

And You Know What? That phone call cost £7.76... Nearly £8 for that! It makes me want to throw up and cry all at the same time…

Am I actually being Victimised because I am… Welsh, and in the Northern End?!

The Upshot of this Phone Number thing is that they have amalgamated all kinds of things into that one number. Including Dentistry. And apparently they do not answer their phones, because all it did was ring and ring, then ring off… Over and over and over again.

Just over £2 was all that was left of my Mother’s phone Credit, from that initial £10. She put another £15 on to call NHS Direct back about this, to see if there was something we were missing, and obviously didn’t know how long she was going to end up having to wait.

It was indeed another long wait. Only then to be told, by the person who finally answered, that, actually and in fact, that Dentistry Amalgamation phone number wasn’t actually open in the afternoons on weekends, at all, after all… It’s only open on weekends from 9-12pm. And you have to just keep on ringing until some douchbag answers the phone. Maybe. And it’s not like this is even Common Knowledge – or on the Internet. I looked. A lot

Now, the Second Time We Called — NHS Direct cost £8.66...

A Grand Total of £16.42 basically WASTEDand £25 of Credit Purchased…

It’s not like we have any money to spare or waste, let alone THAT much…

But worse — could you imagine someone with even less means needing to contact them? I mean… They just wouldn’t…(!)

SORRY, NO WE CAN’T HELP…

A little while after all that, NHS Direct Triage calls back. She insists on talking to me… and I don’t like her voice; it’s difficult to concentrate on and I have to listen for intonations, enunciation, tone, etc – or “Vocal Language” (like Body Language), as I call it in my own head…

It didn’t take long for the Sheen (that’s the veil of “Normal, NT” communication that I force on) to fall down, so I handed her back to my Mother when it was clear she didn’t like the way I was talking now. I was scared, overwhelmed, and utterly drained and exhaustedand I did not have enough Spoons to play along with NT voice tone games right then, whatsoever

The final answer at the end of all this ludicrously ridiculous – and ridiculously expensive(!) – debacle, was — dear Gods help me — to do what we could have figured out for ourselves, if we’d only just realised there was No Other Help out there. To an NHS community hospital (sort of), right next to where my mam works along the prom, where they hold a dental clinic in the very early mornings, with a walk-in centre…

As InThe very place we spent all that time, effort and money, trying to Avoid…(!!)

Now, I have been left with No Choice… And I am forced to do something that is just going to make me all the more ill. Especially with my Fibro, and my Autism.

Tomorrow, I have to be at this community hospital by or before 8:00am, so I can join what will be an ever-expanding queue (Auti part very upset about this bit), for a clinic that doesn’t even start until 9am.

To manage this, I have to be awake All Night — This is because that between my pain, my meds, and the utter exhaustion, I cannot get up until at least 11am, and not entirely lucid until 12 or 1 pm and counting. If I do not sleep, I don’t have that problem, so… No Choice.

I’m Scared. I’m Overwhelmed. I’m Exhausted Beyond Anything and Everything.

And somehow, I now also need to do this. After wasting all that time and money, and effort.

Gods Help Me…


Catheter’s Curse Forced To Continue…

For more than Two Years I have endured my Catheter’s Torment… And I came So Damned Close to escaping it this week… Instead, I get to endure its strange ways for even longer now.

There has been nothing but Blinding, Brain-Exploding, White-Hot, Agonising Pain for Days

I have had no sleep for three nights straight — awake all night through solely from blinding agony and extraordinarily constant, non-stop, Bladder Spasms.

The pain wouldn’t even allow me the vague comfort lying in bed. It forces me to sit on the floor, shaking and yelling in agony… For hours and hours on end. If there is any reprieve, it means the pain is less (and in no way gone)… But I still cannot move.

I am constantly Blacking Out — completely losing consciousness, from a few moments to several minutes. This is what the agony & the exhaustion of this situation has done to me. I have even suffered with these episodes for several hours before. They’re frightening. These come from the immense and combined effects of having to endure constant blinding pain and the sheer physical exhaustion of dealing with sleep deprivation and enduring insane levels of Agony that hits nowhere near the 10-Score Pain Scale.

These Black Outs are not just “dropping off”, like you might do if you’re a “bit tired”... It’s not like sleeping, not at all… You don’t even know you’re going off; certainly have no clue if you’ve gone. Coming round, though, is an absolutely Horrible experience…

Upon being roused — which usually can also take a while — I always end up struggling greatly with temporary full amnesia anywhere from a moment or two, up to a lot more than several seconds… And when (not ”if”) it takes a really long time for my existence to come back to me, it’s Freaking Terrifying

Arguably, the really worst part of this problem, is all the Hallucinating. More Vivid… More Real… Than Any Dreams I’ve had… Enough for me to believe they really are real, whilst both experiencing them and even for some time after being roused. It’s one of the biggest reasons I have no idea about any conscious reality when I open my eyes

I cannot argue any of this is new… In fact, that it isn’t, is the entire point… And that it should no longer be occurringbecause I should already have a Suprapubic Catheter by now, meaning

NONE OF THIS SHOULD BE HAPPENING…

Devastation

Five Days Ago…I was supposed to FINALLYGoddamned FINALLY!! —  Get my Suprapubic Catheter Installed…

I was SUPPOSED TO Get. My. Goddamned Life. Back. At least a little bit

However, instead of managing to figure out the First Steps of living with a Suprapubic… I end up in even more Dire Straights than I have been for a while

Quite Frankly, it is unconscionable… And Being So Goddamned Freaking Close to that Finishing Line… Neither my head nor my heart can truly bear it or Process It And What makes it worse is that since then, there has been blisteringly blinding white-hot agony from the Bladder Spasms like nobody’s business…

This should have been concluded by last August (2019)..

But! Not because of the Disppointment — I wish it was, quite frankly!… It’s because that just at that specific time (ha! The time I truly needed that goddamned Suprapubic to be in…!!!😳🤬😤),  two things turned up that really really would have gone So Much Better  if I’d had the surgery before having to deal with those two things…                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      


The Corona Effect…

SoThe Rest Of The World Finally Has To Find Out How It Feels To Be Unemployed, Housebound & Helpless…

In the blink of an eye, overnight, without warning
Your. Entire. Life. As. You. Know. It. Has.

Completely. Vanished.
Without Warning.

Covid-19 — CoronaVirus is forcing people to face what it feels like to have your life dissolved, taken away from you, without you getting a single goddamned say in it…

One moment everything was perfectly normal, and you had nothing to worry about but normal life stuff… Then — Snap! It’s all so very suddenly just Gone

Perhaps, now, at least, we might get a little more Empathy & Understanding when it comes with our own circumstances, given those of us who have no choice, will not be walking away when their Three Months‘ Quarantine is done.

For the last Six and a Half Years — and especially for the last three years I’ve not been able to walk at all — I’ve believed that Life has become way too surreal

Somehow… Now… That experience and sensation has actually been surpassed even more, by the latest turn of events with the CoronaVirus Lockdown.

I think I suspect that I’m shutting down on talking, discussing, messaging, writing, blogging, right now, because I simply do not wish to acknowledge or remember what it’s like to… Exist… right now..

And I wish that was because of a stupid CoronaVirus… That’s the least interesting thing at the moment to me… If anything, the rules are everything I’ve ever wanted or dreamed of, especially as a confused child and teenager… I mean, seriously… Where the hell was this thing when I was younger?!! NO going outside! NO being around people! NO going to the shops! NO Visitors! NO Gatherings! NO Travelling! NO CROWDS! NO TOUCHING!! NO SCHOOL!!! SOCIAL DISTANCING!! 

Crikey…I’d have been freaking Bouncing…!

Guess I might be one of the few Auties who’s actually Not having their lives disrupted and destroyed at the moment…? Am I one of the few people in general where life pretty much just goes on as normal…?

If I was living my life as I had been, I’d have been utterly, utterly distraught and destroyed… And I know that, because I already went through it Six and a Half Years Ago, when all this and more was taken from me, forced upon me, and annihilated life as I knew it…

It’s taken me this long to even start thinking about the possibility of Acceptance for it… And the Frustration, Resentment, Anger, Fear; they’re all still raw, alive and well…

Clearly, I’m going to get a PhD in this Isolation and Social Distancing after all the years of practice I’ve had here…! I’ve been trapped in my room, in this house, for over Five Years…

Seriously, parts of me thinks it is darkly, ironically Hilarious how people are panicking and Stockpiling (toilet roll…??! Really, crazy people?!!) at the thought of having to be isolated at home for a period of time, as of its the Apocalypse or 28 Days Later… I mean, come on, it really isn’t worth so much Drama!

It’s just 12 WEEKS people! Three MONTHS! … I’ve been doing this for 6 YEARS… And I’ve survived. Ish… And, suddenly, I’m the one looking at others with pity and distain for freaking out about doing something I just do every day…

Come and live in Our World, People…! Here, this is All. Normal…! (So just get on with it, like we do..? Like you all Expect, us to...?)

Seeing people bemoaning the fact they’re in self-isolation online, that they’re forced to not see people, forced to not work, forced to only see family over Video Call, even forced out of work because you cannot leave the house… Well… This is how I live… and I never have received any sympathies, extended support, or outreach because of it, and have clearly been expected just to… suck it up…

So… Shouldn’t. Everybody. Else. Now…?

Well, of course the answer to that is No… It wasn’t right to expect me to, and not right to expect everyone else to… But, my point is the hypocritical attitudes of people… When it was “just me”, I was ignored or pitied… Left to my own devices to just do it. It was a “Sad and Unfortunate” situation. — “Oh, dear, you poor thing… Now let me just get on with my life…”

But now it is they who are also so suddenly forced into the same situation…?

Well, now it’s suddenly up unimaginable to people that they have to so suddenly live this way… So… WHY is it only NOW all this is so TERRIBLE? It wasn’t so terrible to them when it was all forced onto me… and plenty of others who are also in the same situation.

Oh, and you know what else all us housebound and ill people didn’t do….?

FREAKING STOCKPILE!!!!

“Normal” people, “Able” people, “Healthy” people… They Are All Hating This. Others are pouring and heaping their sympathies on them, wishing them well, offering support, being kind…Where they hell was all that when I was suddenly permanently housebound? Where the hell was the sympathies and kindness and understanding from people when there was no more going out or being normal ever again when I could no longer leave?

It wasn’t there, because people didn’t want to think about it, or be associated with it, or acknowledged.

Where was the extra support when my already fragile mental health was Destroyed by being room-bound, helpless, imprisoned, isolated, and really ill…? Over the YEARS…? 

It wasn’t there, because they didn’t want to know. Or didn’t understand. Or if frightened them too much to think about it, or to be faced with it. Now, of course, those very people will expect (or at least hope for) the very same sympathy and support they refused to give others, when devastating illness or conditions controlled, broke, and confined those people, when they became too ill or controlled to do anything anymore...

I’m not the only one by far with lifelong or long-term chronic illness or condition that’s had scowly-faces, derogatory remarks, heavy exasperation, being told to (effectively), “buck up, it’s not that bad having to be home all day”, or people dropping out of your life because you don’t do anything or go anywhere any more..?

Now… Everybody gets to understand just what this is like — Being imprisoned within a small building. With other people. Unable to leave, unless it’s exceptional circumstances. Forced into it, because if you don’t you’re going to pay, or you’ll affect others negatively, or you’ll have to suffer the consequences by being very, very poorly… 

Literally nothing about my life has changed. This is my life. Now everyone else gets to see what it’s like.

  • When they’re forced to stay indoors and not leave their home.
  • Imprisoned because “they’re in a vulnerable condition” & Forced to rely on others who aren’t.
  • Forced into being separated from Family & Friends
  • Forcibly prevented from going out to places, meeting up with friends or family. 
  • Forced into living on the Internet for all forms of actions, reaching out and even communicating with friends and family.
  • Forced into No Travelling. 
  • Forced into knowing that if they left, they’re making themselves prone to being really ill or even dying. 

WELCOME. TO. MY. LIFE.

WELCOME. TO. HOW. SO. MANY. PEOPLE. WITH. CHRONIC, TERMINAL, DANGEROUS, ILLNESSES & CONDITIONS. LIVE. 

EVERY. FREAKING. GODDAMNED. DAY. FOREVER. 

  
THE SELF-ISOLATERS will get to GO BACK TO NORMAL.

THEY only have to do it for a FEW MONTHS.


THE REST OF US TO WHOM THIS EXISTENCE IS OUR LIVES…

WELL… WE. NEVER. EVER. WILL.


JUST… THINK ABOUT THAT

… Just Imagine That Was You

So… Now, Everyone gets to live this shit… They get to understand why we’re angry, frustrated, depressed, hopeless, Helpless… Bored… you feel when in this situation…

 Now, they are in the same boat…

Except, y’know… They have a set time-frame. They will get to go back to normal. They will get out again. They will be freed from this prison. 

I. Won’t.

We. Won’t.


‘The NHS has been destroyed’: Boris Johnson confronted by father of sick child | Politics | The Guardian

Man accuses PM of visiting Whipps Cross hospital in London for press opportunity
— Read on www.theguardian.com/politics/2019/sep/18/nhs-destroyed-boris-johnson-father-sick-child-hospital-london

Whips Cross Hospital is indeed a derelict pile of complete rubbish… Services cut to the bone, An ancient Victorian set of buildings falling apart at the seams, waiting lists too long… Has been under Special Measures yet has just become worse…

Six Years age Now… This hospital screwed with my health & helped destroy my life… 4 months for a pain management clinic referral, 9 months wait for MRI *Results*… Further 4 months wait for Rheumatology referral… 5 minute consultation to be told had “one of the worst cases of #Fibromyalgia he had ever seen, especially on a young(ish) person… Then discharged me with no follow up, care or health plan. Just… Nothing. I was left to fend for myself.

18 months in total, start to finish, it took altogether for me & my tireless GP to get the Fibro Diagnosis Of… well, Anyone… Then, Without care I ended up so ill, I lost the use of my legs through disruptive nerve issues from Fibro & Hemiplegic Migraine.

With proper immediate diagnosis & care, this would NEVER HAVE HAPPENED… 😧😰😩🥺😢😡🤬🤯

So… Whipps Cross… I have no words as to how broken, downtrodden, buggered… this place actually is. I wish I could have given the **CEOs** of that death-trap hospital a piece of my mind… They’re the god-awful culpable ones…


The Heat Is On…

Showered In Pain

A Prisoner in my own body… Held Hostage by Agonising Pain, Solid Stiffness, Physical and Psychological Exhaustion. Why? Because I still do not have what should be a human right… A bloody Shower that I can use!

Just… Agony… It’s all I can think about… Because that is all that there is

The Pain is… Indescribably Excruciating. Morphine barely hits it now, it’s that bad.

I spent a week without it. That’s all. That’s it. And yet, it was enough to be an incredible, amazing respite. But you know what else happened? It was enough to learn to live without itMeaning, that when it came back, upon my return home, it knocked me out flat and winded me like a sledgehammer to the gut and the brain. And now I have to relearn what it means to live with it – more of a shock to the system than I ever thought possible before…

And to make it all the worse… The Worst Bladder Spasms I have had to endure for a while… SLAMMING into me, and so hard that I was left utterly and literally breathless… able to do nothing against this torrent, not even scream the agony… Just silently screaming as the spasms quite literally threaten the worst... Going on for what seems like Forever. There is also what seems to be a little blood in it. The entire thing is… Not. Good.

They’ve eased off now. For now. The rest of the pain, however, still alive and kicking… As in Kicking my backside, from here to Oblivion… It’s inhumane, overwhelming, and just simply Too, Too Much.

The worst, most Frustrating thing about it all is… I Do Not Have To Live Like This… This 15,000+ level of Pain [Score] plummets towards an incredible 7 (ish), whenever I am able to safely access naught more complicated than… A Shower. That’s rightOne Measly Goddamned Shower

I’ve been a Full Time Wheelchair User for just about two and a half years now. Despite that, I had a fragment of ability to weight-bear for up to about 3 seconds, and my abdominal muscles were on the (approx) 50% usable mark. The accessories put up and/or purchased for me as a weakening-yet-still-standing person sort-of still worked… Sort of.

Last March (2018), upon leaving hospital after making it through a serious Blood Poisoning incident, I had to start coming to terms with the fact that, quite frankly, there was very little of me that was actually still there. After the Occocuses ran riot and chased about inside my blood and bowel, they demolished everything below the sternum. I no longer had direct access to any of those nerves and muscles – meaning that there was no way I could even begin to control anything there, or make use of these small adaptations that had been put in before, since they required a certain amount of muscle control.

Upon leaving hospital, we requested that OT should be involved in helping me by re-adapting the house a little, particularly in regards to the downstairs Wet Room.

It’s now 18 Months Later and… Still. Nothing.

Not being able to shower… It’s not about [just] Hygiene, not to me. I can get clean in a multitude of other ways (not one of them pleasant). But what I cannot do in any other way is Get Effective & Instant Pain Relief.

Showers save me from the Demon’s Curse of Fibromyalgia/Fibropleiga.

It unfurls and relaxes intensely spasmed muscles, it melts stressed, pained, struggling intense muscle blocks. It allows genuine Relaxation, which by now, is an alien concept to me. It also saves me from having to double-down on the liquid Morphine that I cannot stand but otherwise have to take to simply… Not. Pass. Out.

I have been using – Wasting…?time, money, effort, Spoons, mental health, on having to go to hotels to get showers, when I cannot take the pain any longer. And it’s adding up, too… It’s now close to becoming impossible to mange this… And with the summer coming up, the prices are going to be going up right alongside it.

I honestly do not want to know how much has been spent on Hotels over these past 18 months… And how much in petrol to take me to these places… and quite frankly, even just the thought of it makes my stomach turn and the nausea rise in my throat, until I feel like I’m going to be physically sick.

At HomeAll is not well… I am stuck upstairs, trapped and imprisoned in my room by a body that refuses to work. I go weeks, months, without having a real shower.

I am cleaned by my mother using wet wipes. My hair is “washed” with Batiste, then conditioned with Aussie leave-in spray and Jojoba oil, or pure argon oil. And that’s only when I can actually tolerate it. Because I’m in so much pain, I cannot tolerate touch very often… and being ASD, I’m already pre-programmed to not be able to tolerate it, as it is.


I’ve just come back from spending a full week at my favourite Premier Inn (oh, yes, I have a favourite, and it is so, because they have the best shower and shower chair – and it’s a very, very Me-Friendly area, too). That was a full week without [Excessive, Soul-Destroying, Brain-Imploding] Pain. One full week of being back in control of myself, to a certain degree. One Full Week of of Real Super-Pain Respite.

With my mind cleared somewhat of The Super-Pain, I was able to use a bit of my own brain to do what I really wanted to do. I bought and read gaming magazines. I wheeled around and went shopping – all day – and even went out to Wetherspoons a few times. I went to Costa and Starbucks and Subway a lot. I did what I did, went were I wanted, when I wanted.

I kept my own space nice and tidy in the hotel room. I dyed my hair. Put on makeup. I did a bit of writing. I updated and caught up with my Journey Journal and Daylios. I frikkin Sang (not a lot, but I did it…!).

I even went to the supermarket right by the hotel on my own to get things that we needed, and did everything there all by myself!

I only needed my normal amount of Morphine. I didn’t touch the Boosters whilst I was there. I had absolutely no need for them!

The simple Freedom of it all was amazing. It was a true gift.


And.. Well… That’s that sad thing really, isn’t it? Basic Rights, like a bloody Shower, should be anyone’s given…. Not a gift. Freedom should be a Given. It’s not a “treat”to be had.


Surviving Trauma with ASD

My Story… My Life…

The Second Time My World Imploded into PTSD…

When I was 34, literally my entire world fell apart. I was so ill I couldn’t move and was in 24/7 agony from Fibromyalgia, and after 2 years of this illness and 10 years together, my partner snapped and she sent me home to live with my parents. Actually, she asked them to come and get me.

Just one random day. She stopped texting me. Then vanished. Never came home. I freaked the crap out. Turns out she went to her mums house. I had to track her down. And her step dad was a bitch to me on the phone.

Then she told me everything was done, we were done, and she wasn’t coming back until, I was packed up and ready to go.

My. World. Died. And. Ended. In. That. Moment.

She took the last remnants of things I had left — and I had already lost the career I loved and the data migration project I was just about to start. And destroyed them. Just one random day. Just like that.

It was nearly 4 years ago, this November it will be.

It was utterly sheer hell. I didn’t know if or how I was ever going to survive. I was delirious with agony and pain, screaming and blacking out from it every day, my parents were yelling at me, screaming at me, doing other bad things at me. I had several meltdowns per day. Everyday. The worst ever kinds. I used to come round to disaster and injuries I had no idea about constantly. It was horrendous…

It went on for years… I tried to OD twice. Was in an ambulance for it. It was a waking nightmare of exceptional proportions.

I don’t know how or why I am still here… But I am. And, frankly, I’m proud of myself for that.

And I survived long enough to get a very special person back in my life. And it’s in a better way this time too …. 🤔

So… I get it. I truly undoubtedly do.

And, also, that is how I know that others can survive this. Because I have, I do. We do. Cos we’re strong and kick ass and have to take far more than anyone could ever frikkin imagine. All. Day. Every. Day.

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝


🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 FOR WALES — COMMUNITY MENTAL HEALTH HELPLINE 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿


C.A.L.L. FOR Wales

FREEPHONE: 0800 132 737

TEXT: HELP & Your Question To: 81066

VISIT: www.callhelpline.org.uk



C.A.L.L. FOR Wales
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 Community Advice & Listening Line 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 C.A.L.L. I GYMRU — Yn Gymraeg 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿
(In Welsh)

💜💝… With All The Love & Care That There Can Be… 💝💜


July 07, 2019 2:36 am

North Wales | 11°C

 

I’ve just seen the date at the top of this iPad a moment ago…

It’s 7/7 — the day things changed forever…

7th July 2015

14 Years Ago Today

And it will never “Just”… “Grow Old”… We were there. In the middle of it. SN was outside a few hundred yards away from That Freaking, Frikkin Bus… Maybe not half an hour after it blew itself up…

We watched it all as it unfurled itself on the news. Heard those Ambulances’ sirens dull on the TV as they raced further away from the scene… Only to get louder and louder outside my window on the way to the Trauma Centre in the Royal Free, Hampstead. It made it a chilling reality

The worst thing, however, was the fact that SN was inadvertently out there when the Tavistock Square Busexploded. The bomb had not long gone off, maybe only an hour or even half an hour. Entirely naïve of the situation, she had gone to meet her parents coming in to Euston from North Wales to see her graduation recital at Arts Ed.

If she had gone sooner, as she says, she decided to go take the mail upstairs to our apartment (Oakley Square, Mornington Crescent, Camden)  instead of leaving right away, she might have been there when the bomb exploded… Heard It… Saw It… Hopefully nowhere near the circumference of the shrapnel trajectory…

As she also pointed out, we would walk past there to get to town. If she hadn’t been having her Recital that day, who knows where we would have been. There’s a place close by we liked to have breakfast in, I’m certain. We could have been going there, done that… It all doesn’t bear to be thinking about… 😖😢😞

But SN was in Euston a little later, thank goodness… She says there was an air of something … wrong… there… But no clear indications — perhaps a fire down in the Tube line? That it wasn’t until I called her, she didn’t know anything had happened.

For me, it had been a very long nightmareto get hold of her. Phone networks were already being jammed (the cell phone networks in 2005 were still really in their infancy stage compared to now…), and I could not get hold of her. For ages… Minutes and Minutes… Which is forever when your best friend might be in serious danger…

I had known nothing was wrong until C (my sister) emailed me to ask how I was, if I was OK. I obviously told her I was fine and at home. And asked why she was asking. She told me to turn on the TV. Any. Channel

With that, my blood went cold and turned on the BBC… The first thing I saw was the fully exploded, destroyed and ripped out backend of the No. 30 Bus in… Tavistock SquareWhich was… Right. By. Euston. Station…. 😱😟😟😟😣😣😣😣😣😣🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯😖😖😖😖😖😖

So, I flipped and started ringing her frantically, until I finally got an answer. And I nearly wept outright with overwhelming internal relief.

She came home — walking bravely despite all the horrors going on…

Her parents had been Evacuated back home from Watford Junction Station anyhow, and all Central London was in a serious Lockdown.

From then on… Well… It just go worse and worse. We were glued to the TV to get as much information as possible about it all. It. Was . Fucking. Terrifying

SN got quite serious PTSD from it… After all, she was thereThat is one seriously Majorheadfuck…

She seems to know how to deal with it well… She has a really, really powerful internal Strength of Will, and bears such a burden with dignity and Strength, despite the Fear and heartbreaking anxiety anything that triggers or reminds her of it… She still carries it with great Power and Grace, in my eyes. 

Not many people understand this. Her parents were kinda there — after all, they themselves were evacuated from London on the train, not being able to get hold of SN and know if she was OK. Not sure if they ever did grasp the reality she was near enough to have been kinda involved in it, too, if she’d have gone any earlier, though….

So, every 7/7 we talk about it. Discuss it. Get our Trauma and Anxieties out to someone who can commiserate and empathise truly. We went through that together. We still go through it together.

The date brings things to the fore too easily, the memories still vivid despite pretty much an entire Decade-and-a-Half having come and gone hence…

It. Just. Hurts…

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