Dear Readers, I began this blog in January, less than a month after my fall. For seven months I’ve been rambling about my condition, hoping to reach you somehow, to tell you what it is like to live without the use of your arms or legs. It is no fun, to say the least.
It's Saturday, Hanif, in the USA. It's been hard to evade sadness, which is pervasive everywhere. One does worry about one's children, and if there are grandchildren, them even more. My two young granddaughters are moving to London with their parents, my son and his wife who I also love. I'm heartbroken that they are leaving but I wish them well and think life may be easier for the family there. And I've been concerned about you, who I do not know, over these last months, as well as a friend nearby who is stoically preparing for her death from recurring cancer. She is mostly in retreat, except for the company of a few friends she is close to. Thanks for writing. Always good to hear how you are feeling even if it is not so good how you are feeling. Progress is slow, it seems, but it is occurring. It must be very hard and grim for you. A few lights like meeting the other patients. You seem to enjoy that.
I'm glad to hear from your son that there are rays of improvement. Perhaps I'm over reading things, but it seems kind of huge if you can do anything with your arms and legs. I hope the therapists are right. I like the photo. You look so young, bright and open. Perhaps there is some joy to be found in just knowing you had such a time in your life.
Dear Mr Hanif, your posts, which emanate from a place of intense pain, speak of a vast generosity of spirit. Here's sending you so much love and warmth. I've been praying for you every single day, since we all heard of your accident. My dad-in-law was bedridden after a stroke. He's 81 and can now move his leg without much help, and his arm with some help. The progress is always slow, but it is there on the horizon. The pain of a fissure is immense -- it makes you feel that region is the very core of your being. But, it will reduce, it will heal. Sending you healing vibes, kind Sir. Be well, always. From monsoony Mangalore in Karnataka, India, where the rain falls gently, like someone is squeezing out string hoppers from the sky above. Where the coconut palms sway with grace.
Yes. It’s wonderful that your sons are so kind and caring. You must have been a good father. Good too that the doctors and therapists are optimistic. My husband had a major stroke 4 years ago and is still very disabled (the doctors were never optimistic). It has been devastating for both of us, particularly him of course, but I would say that we are both much kinder, more appreciative and more patient with one another than we were.
Are you using any assistive technology to help you with daily living skills such as feeding yourself? If you have an occupational therapist, he/she should help with that. You may want to look up this excellent OT professor who is very creative in making AT solutions, Therese Willkomm, at the University of New Hampshire, https://chhs.unh.edu/person/therese-willkomm,. Also, her books outline how to make so many AT items, such as Make Stuff and Love People https://a.co/d/j15v9Cg
yes you will get stronger yes you were a beautiful young man and yes a beautiful older man yes your sons are writers and they love you and what a great dialogue you have with them. thank you for managing to write when in pain... that blessed urge and gift is intact.
Thank you for sharing your collaged hospital room tack board. I like that this one is about you, not your nurses’ record of your scheduled meds, laxatives, etc.
And there you are, in the pic of the young Hanif, the free Hanif, the ‘I’ve got a future’ Hanif. Your eyes haven’t changed a bit. They remain fiercely, intensely bright and intelligent, although they’re now more knowing and wiser. The sardonic humor’s still there.
You’re still pixie-faced, just this is how older pixies look. And you still have a future. Just to remind you again that this hospital nightmare is temporary, as your loving family says.
But your (well meaning) friend had some chutzpah tacking that photograph up without asking you first. Presumptuous.
I was very moved by the weeping Jackie Kennedy looking young woman you described. And I was saddened reading about the PT session with the over solicitous Physiotherapy guys. It’s seemingly hard for them to strike the right tone, but it’s soul-sucking for adults to be talked to as if they’re children. Even kids shouldn’t be talked to that way.
Your sons are bravissimi. You’ve got great, supportive family and friends. You’ve made good progress, Hanif. Realize that you’ve accomplished things, that you still have agency. This will pass.
I’m sorry for all the pain you’ve suffering.
It sounds utterly awful. Grazie Dio per il morphine.
I always look forward to reading any and all of your blog. You’re such an affecting writer. I love reading you, in all your honest humanity. If you lose your humor, I’ll really start worrying.
Ti mando molto amore e tanti abbracci.
Paddy
PS Why not wear that gorgeous scarf (in the old pic) in the ospedale?
Hanif, Howdy. The pace has slowed down - by that I mean you sound calmer and steadier not as hysterical as you were. I think the interjection (is that a word I'm keeping it) by Carlo about your
recovery was brilliant. He should do this more often. I can well imagine the sorry set up where you all sat there in your various states being talked at. it's akin to scenarios in care homes up and down the land - Once (sorry but have to report on an experience - it will uplift you as you will never have this.) when I was searching for a better 'home' for Mum ( a little like those fables where there are a series of tests to get to the goal - they are all impossible) I visited a nursing home where one of the staff advised me not to send Mum there under any circumstances but we passed through the 'lounge area' on the way out. Hanif, the residents were all lined up side by side against all available walls. I don't recall any conversation - all that will have consisted of would be a care worker on next to nothing with the list of options for their eating the following day. There is a lot of being talked at as if you are a child in residential homes. I wonder how Jackie O is. Being confronted by a younger more able you - does it bring back lots of memories it must do. Are you watching anything? or reading stuff - I have been watching lots of rubbish but it takes the edge off. Could not carry on without my soaps either and really most of them have better storylines than some of the dramas - do not watch the sixth commandment whatever you do.(Beeb One and on IPlayer) It is based on true events and for me highlights how vulnerable older people are. What should be the golden years. I finished my book about the (first?) mistress of Charles II and the mother of his only son (I think) it was terribly sad and I just cried at the end - not good as it was my bedtime book. I have wandered well away from your plight - but remember I don't feel sorry for you just full of concern really. Most of us have to apply other skills to keep going (financially) - if it were me (writing for a living) I would definitely pin my hopes onto a good soap, and in the rest of my time write the book of my life. Hanif stay with it - love to hear about your days whatever they consist of it always interests me - OH I knew there was something. How utterly strange but on your board or whatever it is with all your photos and wotnot is an Eon letter, The energy company - the name fills me with horror as I have had an ongoing battle with them since last September to get a ten day bill right. I have a big file called Eon Crap. Listen to this, I hoped that a full and detailed letter plus millions of attachments to their trading offices would resolve it. I do owe them something just not what they keep saying it is - then they emailed last week to say they I am in credit (of course I am not) and they will repay this into my bank account. AND THEY HAVE. Now what?? anyway sorry for my ramblings which far surpass yours. Be not afraid Hanif is all I can say - big love from that little village in deepest North Yorkshire. Maddi XXXXX
Considering the pain you are in, I greatly admire your propensity to continue to use your gift. You are an author and storyteller to your core (from where I am reading) and I have deep respect for the depths of your humanity that you share herein.
Dear Hanif, I was lying on the sofa, listening to music and, suddenly, Joni Mitchell made me think of you. There is a version of Both Sides Now that she recorded live at the Newport Jazz Festival a couple of years ago. If you watch the video, Joni is sitting. She is performing despite the stroke she suffered a while back. Her voice is lower, deeper but no less crystalline and as precise as ever in her phrasing. More evocative because oh so much wiser now. It gets me every time. Every single time I hear it, I cry. So I am not sure whether I should recommend you listen. But if you do, look for the grace, the brilliance, the generosity, the scars of all the difficulties surmounted and the battles lost. And yet, her genius and her will to live an examined life are still there. Even more so. Sending love.
Hanif, in case you have not seen this (not new age or crackpot) report with link to original study: Electric Pulses Delivered to Spinal Nerves Are Helping Paralyzed People Walk Again: Here’s Why
Yes, different times for our young folk starting out in the world of work, whatever field they’re in. One of my boys didn’t want to study beyond GCSEs so he and a mate set up their own production company to make music promos. They have learned how to juggle the creative work they want to make and the work they have to do to pay rent. His younger brother is about to graduate with a degree in Philosophy from Birkbeck and he’s interested in extending his dissertation (on irony) here on Substack. My Son The Fanatic is a great film. It’s a shame the hospital environment can be so infantilising... is that necessary? Maybe that’s what made Jackie Kennedy weep x
Hanif, thank you for continuing your story telling even from a place of great physical and emotional pain. When we have lost something (an ability, part of our identity, or perhaps someone we never thought we could live without) that loss is like a huge wall blocking our view in every direction. It is right in front of us at all times. It is all that we can see or touch.
But it is not all the exists. There are things on the other side of this immense and ugly wall, and things beyond its edges. You see all that you have lost - understandably - but the strength that you are regaining in your legs is also a real thing, something that exists. You might not be able to see it in this moment, but it’s there. I hope you can allow yourself to know that.
It's Saturday, Hanif, in the USA. It's been hard to evade sadness, which is pervasive everywhere. One does worry about one's children, and if there are grandchildren, them even more. My two young granddaughters are moving to London with their parents, my son and his wife who I also love. I'm heartbroken that they are leaving but I wish them well and think life may be easier for the family there. And I've been concerned about you, who I do not know, over these last months, as well as a friend nearby who is stoically preparing for her death from recurring cancer. She is mostly in retreat, except for the company of a few friends she is close to. Thanks for writing. Always good to hear how you are feeling even if it is not so good how you are feeling. Progress is slow, it seems, but it is occurring. It must be very hard and grim for you. A few lights like meeting the other patients. You seem to enjoy that.
I'm glad to hear from your son that there are rays of improvement. Perhaps I'm over reading things, but it seems kind of huge if you can do anything with your arms and legs. I hope the therapists are right. I like the photo. You look so young, bright and open. Perhaps there is some joy to be found in just knowing you had such a time in your life.
Dear Mr Hanif, your posts, which emanate from a place of intense pain, speak of a vast generosity of spirit. Here's sending you so much love and warmth. I've been praying for you every single day, since we all heard of your accident. My dad-in-law was bedridden after a stroke. He's 81 and can now move his leg without much help, and his arm with some help. The progress is always slow, but it is there on the horizon. The pain of a fissure is immense -- it makes you feel that region is the very core of your being. But, it will reduce, it will heal. Sending you healing vibes, kind Sir. Be well, always. From monsoony Mangalore in Karnataka, India, where the rain falls gently, like someone is squeezing out string hoppers from the sky above. Where the coconut palms sway with grace.
Yes. It’s wonderful that your sons are so kind and caring. You must have been a good father. Good too that the doctors and therapists are optimistic. My husband had a major stroke 4 years ago and is still very disabled (the doctors were never optimistic). It has been devastating for both of us, particularly him of course, but I would say that we are both much kinder, more appreciative and more patient with one another than we were.
Are you using any assistive technology to help you with daily living skills such as feeding yourself? If you have an occupational therapist, he/she should help with that. You may want to look up this excellent OT professor who is very creative in making AT solutions, Therese Willkomm, at the University of New Hampshire, https://chhs.unh.edu/person/therese-willkomm,. Also, her books outline how to make so many AT items, such as Make Stuff and Love People https://a.co/d/j15v9Cg
I hope this helps!
Lenore
Well, you managed to notice the Hot Girl so all is not lost. Hannah x
yes you will get stronger yes you were a beautiful young man and yes a beautiful older man yes your sons are writers and they love you and what a great dialogue you have with them. thank you for managing to write when in pain... that blessed urge and gift is intact.
Hanif,
Thank you for sharing your collaged hospital room tack board. I like that this one is about you, not your nurses’ record of your scheduled meds, laxatives, etc.
And there you are, in the pic of the young Hanif, the free Hanif, the ‘I’ve got a future’ Hanif. Your eyes haven’t changed a bit. They remain fiercely, intensely bright and intelligent, although they’re now more knowing and wiser. The sardonic humor’s still there.
You’re still pixie-faced, just this is how older pixies look. And you still have a future. Just to remind you again that this hospital nightmare is temporary, as your loving family says.
But your (well meaning) friend had some chutzpah tacking that photograph up without asking you first. Presumptuous.
I was very moved by the weeping Jackie Kennedy looking young woman you described. And I was saddened reading about the PT session with the over solicitous Physiotherapy guys. It’s seemingly hard for them to strike the right tone, but it’s soul-sucking for adults to be talked to as if they’re children. Even kids shouldn’t be talked to that way.
Your sons are bravissimi. You’ve got great, supportive family and friends. You’ve made good progress, Hanif. Realize that you’ve accomplished things, that you still have agency. This will pass.
I’m sorry for all the pain you’ve suffering.
It sounds utterly awful. Grazie Dio per il morphine.
I always look forward to reading any and all of your blog. You’re such an affecting writer. I love reading you, in all your honest humanity. If you lose your humor, I’ll really start worrying.
Ti mando molto amore e tanti abbracci.
Paddy
PS Why not wear that gorgeous scarf (in the old pic) in the ospedale?
It is a GORGEOUS scarf!
Hanif, Howdy. The pace has slowed down - by that I mean you sound calmer and steadier not as hysterical as you were. I think the interjection (is that a word I'm keeping it) by Carlo about your
recovery was brilliant. He should do this more often. I can well imagine the sorry set up where you all sat there in your various states being talked at. it's akin to scenarios in care homes up and down the land - Once (sorry but have to report on an experience - it will uplift you as you will never have this.) when I was searching for a better 'home' for Mum ( a little like those fables where there are a series of tests to get to the goal - they are all impossible) I visited a nursing home where one of the staff advised me not to send Mum there under any circumstances but we passed through the 'lounge area' on the way out. Hanif, the residents were all lined up side by side against all available walls. I don't recall any conversation - all that will have consisted of would be a care worker on next to nothing with the list of options for their eating the following day. There is a lot of being talked at as if you are a child in residential homes. I wonder how Jackie O is. Being confronted by a younger more able you - does it bring back lots of memories it must do. Are you watching anything? or reading stuff - I have been watching lots of rubbish but it takes the edge off. Could not carry on without my soaps either and really most of them have better storylines than some of the dramas - do not watch the sixth commandment whatever you do.(Beeb One and on IPlayer) It is based on true events and for me highlights how vulnerable older people are. What should be the golden years. I finished my book about the (first?) mistress of Charles II and the mother of his only son (I think) it was terribly sad and I just cried at the end - not good as it was my bedtime book. I have wandered well away from your plight - but remember I don't feel sorry for you just full of concern really. Most of us have to apply other skills to keep going (financially) - if it were me (writing for a living) I would definitely pin my hopes onto a good soap, and in the rest of my time write the book of my life. Hanif stay with it - love to hear about your days whatever they consist of it always interests me - OH I knew there was something. How utterly strange but on your board or whatever it is with all your photos and wotnot is an Eon letter, The energy company - the name fills me with horror as I have had an ongoing battle with them since last September to get a ten day bill right. I have a big file called Eon Crap. Listen to this, I hoped that a full and detailed letter plus millions of attachments to their trading offices would resolve it. I do owe them something just not what they keep saying it is - then they emailed last week to say they I am in credit (of course I am not) and they will repay this into my bank account. AND THEY HAVE. Now what?? anyway sorry for my ramblings which far surpass yours. Be not afraid Hanif is all I can say - big love from that little village in deepest North Yorkshire. Maddi XXXXX
Considering the pain you are in, I greatly admire your propensity to continue to use your gift. You are an author and storyteller to your core (from where I am reading) and I have deep respect for the depths of your humanity that you share herein.
And they are both really good writers xxxx Nige
Dear Hanif, I was lying on the sofa, listening to music and, suddenly, Joni Mitchell made me think of you. There is a version of Both Sides Now that she recorded live at the Newport Jazz Festival a couple of years ago. If you watch the video, Joni is sitting. She is performing despite the stroke she suffered a while back. Her voice is lower, deeper but no less crystalline and as precise as ever in her phrasing. More evocative because oh so much wiser now. It gets me every time. Every single time I hear it, I cry. So I am not sure whether I should recommend you listen. But if you do, look for the grace, the brilliance, the generosity, the scars of all the difficulties surmounted and the battles lost. And yet, her genius and her will to live an examined life are still there. Even more so. Sending love.
Hanif, in case you have not seen this (not new age or crackpot) report with link to original study: Electric Pulses Delivered to Spinal Nerves Are Helping Paralyzed People Walk Again: Here’s Why
https://nicenews.com/health-and-wellness/electrical-pulses-help-paralyzed-people-walk/
Yes, different times for our young folk starting out in the world of work, whatever field they’re in. One of my boys didn’t want to study beyond GCSEs so he and a mate set up their own production company to make music promos. They have learned how to juggle the creative work they want to make and the work they have to do to pay rent. His younger brother is about to graduate with a degree in Philosophy from Birkbeck and he’s interested in extending his dissertation (on irony) here on Substack. My Son The Fanatic is a great film. It’s a shame the hospital environment can be so infantilising... is that necessary? Maybe that’s what made Jackie Kennedy weep x
Love from Cork.💚 You will get stronger. You have so much more to enjoy with your sons. God bless you all.
Hanif, thank you for continuing your story telling even from a place of great physical and emotional pain. When we have lost something (an ability, part of our identity, or perhaps someone we never thought we could live without) that loss is like a huge wall blocking our view in every direction. It is right in front of us at all times. It is all that we can see or touch.
But it is not all the exists. There are things on the other side of this immense and ugly wall, and things beyond its edges. You see all that you have lost - understandably - but the strength that you are regaining in your legs is also a real thing, something that exists. You might not be able to see it in this moment, but it’s there. I hope you can allow yourself to know that.