From a modern flat to a big, old home….

12974270_10153389935261898_3412654725083429368_n
A recent photo of me with my nephew, taken in my new room in Nursing Care facility where I now live. 

From ‘independence’ to full-time Nursing Care

In the last little while, I’ve moved into residential care. Not a decision I took lightly but living independently was seriously endangering my mental health. Respite was arranged in a hurry as I desperately needed a rest. A few days after my arrival, I was a different person. I’d had more sleep then I’d had in a very long time, in part due to sleeping on a specialist mattress to try to ease some of my pain. I’d had proper meals, and help with the projectile stoma output which had been giving me so much grief at all hours of the day and night. I very quickly made friends, and there are as many activities available as possible given that the home is maintained by a national charity, and as such, relies heavily on volunteers. I did play more than one game of scrabble that first week, which I loved.

At the end of the week, I hadn’t heard if there were any changes to my care plan at home and I knew I couldn’t go back for any length of time and not get in the same mess. I knew deep down there was no money for any more care at home. Long story short, I’m now in residential care full time. I’m much happier, certainly safer and healthier than I was living on my own, latterly.

Disconnect in Well-Connected Times

Of course, as with any move, there will always be teething problems. These have become apparent very quickly. The manager is trying hard to get something done about the sweltering heat, and the problems with water. The care I have is generally absolutely brilliant, especially now people have had time to get used to the idiosyncrasy of doing stoma care on my behalf. I may have startlingly high levels of pain and fatigue, and the medication needed to manage these has it’s own side effects. Staff have begun to recognise the signs, and remind me to rest often. I am slowly developing my own routine in amongst my varying levels of health. I love visitors and thrive on being around people.

There’s just a weeny problem. The house is old, and has been extended. The house has been blamed for the non-existent Wi-Fi in upstairs rooms but that was only part of the problem. Finally, a solution has been suggested and will hopefully be implemented fairly swiftly. It needs to be. After all, personal care and support is paramount, but access to social support, which arguably includes Wi-Fi is nearly as important. I look forward to the day when I can skype when I chose to, including family as well as my therapist. I am almost wholly dependent on social media for keeping in touch with my wonderful friends, who I really miss, as well as church family and blood family. I also rely on Wi-Fi to conduct research for blog posts, and find other sits to write for. Being a girly girl, I make occasional purchases too.

My life has diminished enough without losing touch with people or losing the blog altogether. These are crucial contacts for my own sanity, some of whom offer online support with my chronic illness and disability. Why should any of this have to suffer simply because my circumstances have dramatically changed? It’s time residential care caught up with the times!

Over to You:

Do you think WiFi access is important in today’s world? Why, or why not?

Do you live in supported living, residential care or a nursing home, is Wi-Fi access considered a priority? Should it be?

Do you have any other comments to make. Perhaps you disagree with me. I’d love to hear from you!

The Persistence of Pain

Pain. We all feel it, be in a physical pain in our shoulders, arms, legs, ankles, all of these, or in muscles, or joints… We might try everything to get rid of it; from a warm bath, rest, sleep. medications, be they over the counter or prescription ones, but sometimes nothing helps. Even if we take things to block the feelings of pain it may still persist… over days, weeks, perhaps months, or even years in some cases.

Unfortunately, it is this latter category in which I now find myself, having endured chronic lower back pain since my teens. It all started with a back problem stemming from how heavy my schoolbag was. Said bag was once weighed by the head of support for students with extra learning needs or a disability. I think it weighed about 3 stone… At the time, being relatively slim it would have been about a third of my body weight.

Never did I imagine that some sixteen years later that same pain would persist. I was always susceptible to musculoskeletal pain anyway due to my cerebral palsy (CP). Cerebral Palsy is the medical term for a number of disorders and means ‘brain paralysis’, affecting each person very differently. I’d always just assumed that because my walking was wonky, I might end up with damage to my body, especially since my diagnosis was that CP affect both legs from my hips to the tips of my feet.

Determined to achieve as much as possible despite my CP, (and many more problems besides) since school I’ve achieved two Arts degrees, one a Bachelor, the other a Masters, and passed a couple of further education exams in Counselling Skills, as well as doing a couple of guest lectures in what it was like to grow up being labelled as ‘Special Needs’, despite unexpectedly progressing through high school to University and beyond. 

I have no idea when pain first began to push its way through into more than a niggle on a daily basis. Perhaps at University, when I first needed a mobility scooter, or when trips to the bathroom became ever more frequent and increasingly painful (more of than on World IBD Day (19th May).

Some six or seven years ago, I began to require more physiotherapy, and eventually a three-wheeled walking frame. This took some getting used to, having been able to walk relatively unaided since the age of six, except perhaps for the borrowing of an arm or two. Despite the strangeness at first, and the increasing challenges I faced each day, I carried on for managing with my walking frame and the occasional use of a manual self-propelling wheelchair until the age of about 28.

One day, I wheeled myself into a consultant’s room for what I assumed was a routine appointment and left in turmoil. Due to pain of increasing severity becoming the norm on at least a daily basis, walking was apparently no longer an option. Months of assessments followed until one day, my shiny new electric wheelchair arrived. It was now the beginning of a more painless future. Or so I’d hoped. Several medications have made a bit of a difference to one type of pain, and then another have been necessary to try to block a newer kind of pain. Successive appointments with different doctors followed, and for a time I was reasonably comfortable. 

However, this is now no longer the case. Most of the time, medications, microwave heated (wheat bag) animals and hot showers make a bit of a difference along with warm-water based exercises weekly but nothing really helps to the point of being in no pain at all. Those days have gone. 

Take today for example. Waking up to buzz my carer into my flat, only to realise once she flicked on the light switch that I was in agony from one side of my forehead to the other, and from one shoulder to the other, and in-between my shoulder blades, aching in the middle and culminating in some of the most intense lower back pain I’ve felt. It was time for emergency pain meds. Never one to admit defeat if I can help it I carried on with my day, seeing a good friend for a cuppa, only to crawl back into bed at lunchtime and stay there the majority of the afternoon. My bedtime is now fast approaching just as the lower back pain is increasing all over again. 

I’m aware many are in a worse situation than me, have no access to clean water, food and shelter, never mind medication. Equally, there are many who never need to give pain a thought save perhaps the occasional headache. For those who battle pain day in, day out I feel solidarity with, but wonder how we continue to fight each day. 

This is the pain about pain. To collapse into bed at the end of one painful day only to struggle to find a comfortable sleeping position for any length of time, and the pain to continue all night long and be with me into the new day too. The pain about pain is its sheer persistence. It doesn’t care who falls victim to it, or what one’s plans are, or what problems it exacerbates. 

Thankfully, I know One who felt more pain than I will ever feel. One day my pain will cease and all I will know is perfect joy and perfect peace. Not I the centre, but He. Until that time I push on, not in my strength but with His power. Pain pulls my focus back onto myself. What I’m feeling, what I need, my ruined plans, rather than His purpose. Tomorrow is a new day. Regardless of the persistence of pain, I will wheel on beside the One who endured it all for me.

Transport woes part… (I’ve lost count)

Despite being back on track with my writing now, generally I have found it difficult to write this year, unless something particularly grabs me. This is one of those posts. (N.B. I wrote the remainder of this post roughly six weeks ago, but facing Hospital Transport tomorrow, this post is pertinent!).

Old worries revisited

I have many things in common with fellow disabled people regardless of disability type or severity. Difficulties finding, and keeping affordable transport are almost universal. I’ve barely been out of the house recently, either because of myriad problems with my electric wheelchair, difficulties with care or a health related problem.
This morning, however, I had an unavoidable blood test. I have to use transport to get there so I can have the finger-prick test much like a diabetic person would do to check their blood sugar levels rather than a regular blood test. I am often told children have bigger veins than I do.
This morning was different, because instead of the usual transport vehicle it was a taxi contracted to do the same journey on their behalf. Rude, impatient and uncommunicative and on their hands free phone for the majority of the journey, I was apprehensive about being dropped off at the conclusion of the journey. I should say as far as I can tell my wheelchair was tied down properly.

Unexpected Intervention

Not expecting any further help, I slowly pushed my wheelchair towards the dropped kerb. Unexpectedly, someone in the next car addressed the driver, asking if he was on NHS work all day or just the one job. He said ‘just her.’ The driver then said he should really help me get inside so the taxi driver motioned towards me as I inched toward the pavement. I swear my garden snails would beat me. The other driver swiftly said “it’s just we’ve been warned, you know…” Tada, my driver’s attitude transformed. He propelled the chair at speed towards the building and asked civilly where I would like to be, saying thanks as he did so. I think it was for keeping quiet in front of the person who reprimanded him. Job done, he left.
After my blood test, I plucked up the courage to complain. I wouldn’t usually, but I felt I had to this time because I wanted to make sure the same driver wasn’t taking me home. I was concerned others would be at risk if faced with this same driver too, in terms of their emotional well-being if nothing else, or more, if they didn’t get the necessary help either.
Imagine my relief when an ambulance technician I had seen before rocked up. I knew everything would be fine after that.

A timely reminder…

This morning reminded me of an important lesson though. God doesn’t always answer our prayers in the way we expect. I suspect you are wondering how transport and prayer are related? You see, this morning I was in such pain I was almost in tears. I’d prayed God would lessen the pain as I knew I had potholes and speed bumps to endure on my journey, and asked a couple of others to pray too. Being driven by taxi meant being driven straight there rather than all over my side of Leeds to collect others, ensuring a shorter, smoother journey, despite the unpleasantness. Thankfully, on the journey home I’m first to be dropped off. What a relief,  answered prayer, and an important lesson remembered.

An update on the problems, and the possibilities!

New Week, Old Problems

Morning everyone! In my last post, I mentioned some of the negatives that have been plaguing me recently, and some of the positives which counteract these. Specifically, the unreliability of both my health and my wheelchair continue to be constants which interrupt the life I would love to live. Last week, I took delivery of a small electric wheelchair, reconditioned and fitted to me. At first, all was well. Though not nearly as supportive as my aching body needs, it was at least working, and getting me round my flat, to the doctors surgery or church, and even a trip to my nearest city to meet up with  a close friend and her small boy. The peace, and freedom, has been all too short. Noisy wheels are back. I was assured that it was probably just the plastic from the wheelchair and the rubber tyres colliding in squeaks, but to contact those with a responsibility to fix it should it get worse. That’s what I will have to do later this morning, at the risk of sounding like a moaning minnie, as the wheels don’t actually feel very safe, besides being noisy. They are, at least still working for now, which is more than can be said for my previous chair. It has now been collected, thankfully, so there is one less set of wheels to negotiate round when I want to get from one room to another. Even this is an improvement on recent weeks, so it;s not all bad! Hoping the problems have a simpler solution, with it being a simpler wheelchair!

Accomplishments (at last!)

My health has continued to interrupt my writing because I have continued to need to hone my sleeping skills! I am however having more ideas for posts to write and being able to do a little more without falling asleep, so though it is slow, there is definitely progress! I’ve managed to complete a few small projects, including the first chapter of a memoir and the query letter, which I emailed off within the right side of the deadline with a few hours to spare (go me!) The hard work paid off when a friend I asked for feedback really liked it, despite a few errors. Thanks, Caroline for your input. If further chapters ever see the light of day, I’ll definitely be sending them your way! I read it to a carer as well while she cleaned, who also really liked it, even though they have completely opposite background and personality to me… I mention these things, because I see it as a really good sign that the same material has been received positively by completely different people. Just awaiting the feedback now, but there is a long wait of just under two months, so I’m trying to forget about it!

I needed quite a few days to recover from writing the chapter, including a few more than expected. I have no idea what is continuing to exhaust me, and don’t know where to start trying to find out. Despite this, I have managed to lead a meeting of a women’s group I am part of, where I talked about the last few months, and the ways I attempt to maintain joy and a prayer life, with a lot of enabling from my Heavenly Father. Just getting the talk written was last minute battle, as I couldn’t stop falling asleep in front of the laptop! However, I succeeded in the end, thanks to the faithful prayers of some close friends as well, a couple of whom were also at the meeting. It’s always encouraging for me to be able to use the things I have been through to encourage others, and explore ways we can find joy in our pain and reach others in the midst of it. I will post my talk soon once I have edited it. It’s still full of the typos I didn’t have time to edit before it was time for the group, but should be next Monday’s post!

I’ve continued to host WOWChurch services on a Sunday too. I think I’ve done three now, and despite posting the wrong link to the teaching slot, my confidence is growing. I chose to look at joy the first week, as it also tied in with trying to prepare for giving my testimony, Spiritual Gifts (on which a post is forthcoming!) and last night’s topic, prayer. In thinking about prayer, we also used what we learned to pray for Christians still in parts of Iraq, and the larger contingent forced to flee. I have seen some news articles focussing on the particular troubles for Iraqi Christians, but not many. If you would like to know more, see this recent feature from The Daily Telegraph. If you do the praying thing, please do pray for Christians in Iraq at this time. If you would like to know more about WOWChurch, you can find contact details for Dave Roberts, as well as short podcasts at www.davegroberts.podbean.com

What else does this week hold?

This week I have a meeting to try and reinstate funding for warm-water based physiotherapy, commonly known as hydrotherapy. I am SO looking forward to that beginning again, albeit with help from a different agency than the ones who accompanied me before. This week sees an ending too. I hope I’ll have my final appointment for anti-coagulant therapy to fix a blood clot I got in my leg in hospital from inactivity due to the seriousness of my surgery, It will be great to be free of such a major tablet, and have one less batch of appointments to think about. I am hoping though, that my transport is more successful than last time! A transport-related post should appear (as if by magic!) on Wednesday. I had thought I knew what I was posting on Friday, but I have forgotten what that is, so hoping I remember soon! I have a fairly boring but productive week ahead. This means unless I need to sleep it all off (which is likely) I should have more time to write! (Hurray!!)

In recent weeks, I….

Hi everyone, here I go with my latest attempt to kickstart my blog after some months of absence. Finally, finally, I feel ready to start writing regularl
y again. Hopefully, I’ll manage to post three times a week. For now, lets revisit the last few weeks in my world! In the past few weeks, I:

Have been concentrating on all the basics.

For me, this has meant more than just getting to the end of each day in one piece. Just getting from one hour to the next has often been a challenge, either because of a much disrupted sleep the previous night from insomnia, pain, (be it joint, stomach, or back) or due to my my highly functioning stoma, meaning I am up to empty it several times a night, despite using an appliance with one of the largest available.

If I settle down for a nap the following morning after a bad night, one hour, even two is never enough. And yet, keeping going is not an option either, as I am extra uncoordinated, clumsier, and even less able to think straight than usual. The problem is, after such a long nap, I have no inclination to write.
Additionally, i’ve had never-ending lists of admin, be it phone calls, emails to write, forms to fill… Unfortunately, these things have not been the only difficulties.

Have been confined to one room, for the most part.

After all that busyness, I am exhausted. This has been exacerbated, at least for the last six weeks, because of the unreliability of my electric wheelchair, meaning that even sitting still is hard work, as I need the support which I have from the pressure cushions on my chair, to enable me to sit up comfortably with less effort, less pain, improved balance and posture, and without putting undue stress on my back, which is already incredibly sore most days. Even when my wheelchair has been returned after being away for repair, I’ve been lucky to get the use of it for a full 24 hours without it stalling. As it is, it has stopped altogether, and is awaiting collection for the the fourth time in six weeks. How do I manage without such vital machinery? The truth is, I don’t! For the vast majority of this time, I’ve been confined to one room, usually my bedroom, as I have a profiling bed. This means I can press some buttons to adjust the mattress (in this case, a high-pressure one) to more effectively support my posture, and change my position when I am uncomfortable or in pain, without actually having to move my body. I am incredibly grateful to have access to such equipment, as without this I would be in constant unrelenting agony.
image

Fortunately for me, I have occasionally been able to leave the house in my (ill-fitting, too small and unsupportive) manual wheelchair if a carer, family member or friend has time to help me. This has mainly been for hospital appointments or the food shop. I’ve been unable to attend church in this time, as spending long periods of time in this manual wheelchair has done, and would do much more harm than good. While I am awaiting a permanent fix or replacement for my electric wheelchair, the confinement continues.

Have begun a tailor-made eating plan!

What am I doing with my time now I’m even more restricted than usual? In part, I’ve used the
time to plan food shopping, cooking and eating meticulously. In partnership with my dietician, I am eating much more lean protein to help fill me up without added bulk (or calories) in smaller, more regular meals and snacks. Due to my unique circumstances we’ve had to devise inventive ways of including all necessary vitamins and minerals in my diet, without me having to prepare, cook, eat and attempt to digest lots of fruit and vegetables, for me to struggle to absorb the nutrition anyway due to the shortness of the piece of gut I have left, and reduce the risk of blockages in the stoma, or over-filling of my ostomy bag. What a challenge! (Apologies if you were eating while reading this!) With help from care staff, also I’ve been using a reasonably comprehensive soluble vitamin and mineral tablet on a daily basis, to boost anything I am managing to absorb. As recently as the last few days, on advice from a GI consultant, I’ve recommenced a fluid restriction in combination with a litre of dioralyte daily (rehydration salts and electrolytes). All of this, though effortful is giving me more energy, helping me lose weight by reducing the temptation to snack or comfort eat, and generally feel better about myself. The results are also evident in regular blood tests. A long hard slog rather than a quick fix, but will all hopefully eventually be worth it.

4. The once gaping wound in my abdomen is no more!

Said wound has finally healed, though it needed loads of TLC and took an arduous five months to heal, some 3 months less than my fantastic surgical team expected. My surgeon himself, had some doubt that the wound would ever heal completely, but at a joint medical/surgical appointment last week, it was lovely to be able to tell in person that it had. The doctor said I made the surgeons day. I’ll bet they were glad to have good news for a change, especially given my prognosis and the miracle that I am here at all. As a Christian, I believe that ultimately God has orchestrated this healing, though other factors have undoubtedly helped including keeping the wound free other than the pre-existing infection on the outside of the wound, keeping it clean, and mostly dry, even while washing my hair, no mean feat in itself!

What else have I missed?

I have spent time doing the things I love again: cooking, baking, reading everything from ebooks on my kindle app on my smartphone, blog posts, news articles, catching up with friends family over occasional coffee or meals at home, or even more occasional meals or coffees out when accompanied. I’ve participated in church services online through skype and facebook, and even led my first one last Sunday. A separate blog post on that is to come. In the meantime, contact Dave Roberts to find out how to get involved in VOWchurch if you would live to, or even if you would just like to find out more.
Also on Facebook, I’ve joined a campaign called “Get Your Belly Out”, begun by four amazing yet ordinary girls seeking to raise awareness of Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD), raising money for a cure, and building up a loyal, friendly, support community in the process.
image

Lastly, I’ve participated in a webinar (a seminar on the web) or how to write memoir, tips and tricks to use, and what to avoid! This was organised by Writer’s Digest, and run by an agent in America on a weekday lunchtime, broadcast all around the world to aspiring writers in various time zones, 6 pm in the evening, in my case! I managed to stay awake (hurrah!) content rating for virtually the full 90 minute seminar, having learned lotads. I’m now working on the 1500 words to email to the agent, due in a mere 9 days (eeek). On that note, I must scarper!

Writer in the making….

This is Part 2 of the Weekly Writing challenge from 24 March. The prompt went like this:

Every superhero has an ‘origin’ story of how they came into being. If applied to myself, How did I begin to be a reader, and eventually a writer? 


 

An embarrassing start

I th­­ink I was about seven or eight years old when I attempted to write my first story. It was simple and I tried my hardest to write something good. It was definitely a love story. I remember being quite pleased I’d written something from scratch, all by myself. I must have shown my Mum that I’d written it. My family was there one tea time or something, I think my Grandparents were there too. I remember Mum telling me to go and get my story, and how desperately I wanted to say no, because it was not good enough for people to hear. However, I reluctantly brought it.

I remember my mum saying, “this is the kind of stories she writes… and she proceeded to read it out loud. I distinctly remember wishing I could disappear, acutely embarrassed at what was happening, but worse was to come. Mum finished reading it, and everyone laughed, lots. I remember wishing I had hidden it away and not shown anyone.

I wish I had been able to forget it, work on my vocabulary and practice my writing more. The incident when I was 8 really sucked the confidence out of me. I’ve always allowed myself to dwell on embarrassments. I don’t remember writing stories after that. I did write occasionally when 10 or 11 in a diary with a gold padlock and a polar bear on the front. I only wrote stories in school though not always successfully, the rubbish I wrote when asked to write about a chocolate factory being one example! I did have more success with creative writing at secondary School and University, though I never wrote in my free time.

Nowadays, memoir is usually my favourite style of writing, as I love telling stories of memories I have, people I have met, and events I have been to, as well as a spiritual record of the ways God has used the difficult things, as well as the good things to mould me into the person he wants me to become

Lots of my experiences and everyday life in general differs from the norm because of my ‘being unable to work’, through being both ‘sick and disabled’. A fellow Chrons sufferer started writing and campaigning because she was desperate to have this description recognised. When I read that in a tweet I remember thinking — ‘I am so glad someone’s managed to lobby for that and been successful, as well as relief that I wasn’t alone.

Equally when I write posts and publish the material in my blog, if other people comment that I am I not alone in whatever I write about whether it be discrimination of some kind, difficulties coming to terms with health problems or whatever and share their own experiences, it reassure me I am writing about the right things, and I feel privileged others are sharing their experiences with me.

I’ve also written about news items, popular topics, or a longer comment on things I’ve read on other writers’ blogs. I didn’t think I would enjoy writing about current affairs as much as I do. I had a complex that I wasn’t knowledgeable enough, or enough of a campaigner to write on disability issues. However, some people have seemed to get a lot out of what I have written on the welfare state, especially people who previously did not know a lot about it. There are times I manage to engage others, and get a proper discussion going such as a post I wrote in response to a GP’s comments that the majority of disabled people could work if Stephen Hawking can! This went viral, receiving almost 400 views in one day and causing a lot of debate on social media, both in support, and in criticism of my arguments. (I have always loved debate, but was never confident enough to join the debating society at school, despite my Mum’s encouragement at the time).

My dreams slowly grew as I continued writing. At first, I was happy writing solely for the ‘Big Bible’ website. Then I started my Blog because a discriminatory experience buying glasses in Specsavers got me so fired up I had to write about it! As I wrote, I wanted to write more. Others liked my writing and began to read regularly, ‘liked’ my posts, and my confidence in my writing and in myself increased. This continued for at least a year, however, I found that I became unable to write consistently especially since my health has deteriorated. This has really hurt my confidence, because I very much wanted to write and I would often find that I couldn’t. Obviously the numbers who read have fallen dramatically.

For more than ten years, friends and family members have urged me to write my biography. Blogging has given me confidence to think about doing this because so many read and ‘followed my blog at one point. I started off writing a diary of hospital experiences because I wanted my story to from the ab differundance of other biographies out there. I still haven’t decided what to do because I feel totally torn. Is my story ‘different enough’ to write about on its own, and if so where would I start? And what about the thousands of words I have written so far? Writers, do you have any advice / Suggestions?! As for publishing, who knows, there is much too long a way to go before I need to think about that, surely?

I write for the same reasons I Blog. I wrote something this time last year called ‘Drum Roll Please’. I wrote the following about having a way to express myself. “[T]o have found an outlet which I enjoy, uses my gifts, engages my brain, and connects me with people who have similar interests is a joy.” Slightly clumsy phraseology, I admit, but does largely capture how I feel about writing.

God is using me, and my writing. Writing helps me to explain how my faith makes a difference to the difficult times in my life, of which there are plenty. I hope and pray this will be a witness to those who read it. I decided early on that as much as possible I would keep my blog ‘real’, by writing honestly, including the good, the bad, and the ugly, without dramatising things but also without glossing over the tough stuff.

I am mostly confined to my house, but reaching others from my living room! About a year ago, I wrote the following:

I aim to inform as many people as [I] can about the complexities of life with significant needs, and deep Christian faith and to live as full as life as I can. I am aware of other disabled people I know who live fuller lives than I, even with a more significant physical impairment. Though I would sometimes wish my life was more varied, in general blogging is my way of being ‘out and about’; reaching people I would not otherwise meet and finding a creative outlet, while having a lot of fun at the same time!

By searching and reading I am constantly learning, keeping up to date with some of the changes to policy, practice, disability laws, news, and current affairs. I have to discard the scare stories and keep only the useful information if that makes sense. I keep writing because I want to continue to reach out to others, especially those who live with constant health challenges, as I and many others do, and to encourage people, impaired or not, to learn to keep going when life gets extra hard, because giving up is not worth it in the long-term. I continue to need a way of using my God-given gifts, and of continuing to learn new things in a fast-paced world.

I heartily wish that when I was young, I had persevered, and learned the true discipline of getting up early, pouring a drink, and having time ‘quiet time’ to read my bible and pray, before writing for a few minutes, even. I’d like to write daily, and sometimes manage it for a few days at a time, but don’t keep it up as I then sleep through my alarm, or I can’t keep it up as my health gets in the way.

My favourite time to write is early in the morning, say beginning between five and five-thirty am if I can physically manage to wake up when the alarm goes off, and slide into my wheelchair. I sometimes use prompts such as this one from WordPress, 365 Days to Build a Better Blog (Rowse, 2011) or for girls and women Robin Norgren’s books, including Writer Girl (Norgren, 2013) . I had the privilege of chatting with the lovely Robin for a Skype jam session or two a while back. The ‘days’ aren’t meant to put the pressure on for you to write every day, but simply when you have the time, energy and head-space.

Please do let me know if reading my story of my own clumsy beginnings as a writer have encouraged you to have a go for yourself, be it with scrap paper and pencil, fountain pen and fancy paper, spoken memories on Dictaphone, iPod, or mp3 player to write later, or laptop / iPad and word processor.


To have a go at this challenge for yourself, click on the blue text (or tab to the word “challenge at the bottom of this post and press space if you have a screen reader).

Bibliography

Norgren, R., 2013. Writer Girl: 42 Days of Exercises to Deepen your Faith in Your Ability and Your Purpose for Writing. 1st ed. s.l.:s.n.

Rowse, D., 2011. 365 Days to Build a Better Blog. 2nd ed. s.l.:http://www.problogger.net.