Tuesday 5th July 2005
Can't remember what happened. Probably involved lots of pain, tears and morphine.
Wednesday 6th July 2005
See entry for yesterday - although lots more tears were shed on this day, due to the fact that it was the 23rd anniversary of the death of my brother who was killed on a motorbike on 6th July 1982. This makes the tears come harder and faster because of the circumstances that brought me to where I am. I have the feeling that he was watching over me when I had my accident and stopped things becoming "deadly" serious.
Some may scoff at that notion, but it comforts me, and I cling to that. I say a prayer to God to thank him (and my bruv) for bringing me through this still breathing.
There is one news item that lifts my spirits a bit - London have won the bid for 2012 Olympics against all odds. Finally, something to proud of and rejoice in. I contemplate sending the Olympic committee an email to see if they will adopt a new sport for the Olympics - external fixator throwing. Bit like the shot put, but with an external fixator for all those who have finally managed to have the bloody things removed!!! The more pleased you are at having it removed, the further you throw it - simply, really. Then I have a reality check and decide that they won't really go for it.
Thursday 7th July 2005
A truly awful day. Not for me. But for the 50 odd people blasted to death by "Islamic" extremists on the London Underground and on a bus. How dare they hide behind religion with these twisted notions? I'm not aware of any religion on this planet that endorses the killing of another human being. Sure, people and religions are persecuted the world over which is not right, but does the taking of yet MORE human lives make it an even score? I just don't get it.
I sit and watch the horror that is to be dubbed 7/7 unfold on the 14 inch telly bolted into the wall of my wonderfully comfortable private room.
The footage is on all day and I reel from shock to shock as more and more details emerge as to what happens.
I cry and cry when I see the imagery of blasted and broken people paraded on the TV screen. I cry harder because all at once I truly realise, even in my less than healthy state, that I'M ONE OF THE LUCKY ONES! Behind every broken body lies the tears of a family that are going to find out that a loved one has literally been ripped away from them.
This is a truly sobering experience and gives me renewed strength to stop feeling sorry for myself.
But I miss one important thing here; the perception of bad luck in your own life is relative to you, because it is PERSONAL to you. Everyone that has ever fallen on bad times is usually reminded that there is "someone worse off than you". This is, of course, undoubtedly true. Millions dying in Africa because of disease of just lack of food and water (unforgiveable in the so-called "modern" world we live in), terrorist bombs exploding all over the planet etc etc. The list is infinite. So although it gives you a sort of perspective in the grand scheme of good and bad luck, you can never truly compare your bad luck to someone elses bad luck.
Because it's yours. It belongs to you. And only YOU can truly deal with it.
So, as horrible as the events of 7/7 are, the events of which take up all of the airtime of the major broadcasters, and with the thought of all of that in my mind, I still find time to selfishly cry and bemoan MY bad luck. The guilt of this simple act just intensifies the tears.