If, at some future date, I review these articles, I am certain that I would view the past week as a major watershed in my rehabilitation and recovery. I feel I have made significant progress in several areas. I am no longer confined to mashed food and thickened drinks. When I yawn, the thumb and index finger of my paralysed left hand make spontaneous, involuntary movements. Following intensive physiotherapy, I am now able to transfer from bed to wheelchair. It is a major psychological boost to be able to choose what I eat and drink. Despite this, I cannot, in my wildest dreams, envisage the catering department of Weston General Hospital breaking into the Egon Ronay Good Food Guide! Having said that, the chips which went with the haddock and mushy peas yesterday lunchtime, tasted wonderful. My physiotherapists I have to wear tailor-made splints on both left foot and left hand. These are to prevent contractures (shortening of tendons) forming in my limbs, which would otherwise prevent normal movement, if and when I recover. My physiotherapists are Fiona (she who must be obeyed) and Helen (the blue/green goddess due to the colour of her uniform), who is a beautiful blonde with a winning toothpaste-advertisement smile. Fiona is an Aberdonian and has been carved from the granite for which that city is renowned. Despite my pleadings, to date she has refused to sing me a rendition of Northern Lights. Frequently, throughout my life, I have been accused of being cheeky. However, even I am not cheeky enough to nickname Fiona 'Aberdeen Angus' (although I'm cheeky enough to write it!). Moments of progress, such as movement and transfers, evoke a lump in the throat and tear in the eye, although I have come to terms with the fact that recovery will be a long and tedious process. Dark clouds The psychological benefits of these minor improvements cannot be underestimated. However, as every adult will know, behind every silver lining, lurks a great big rain cloud. There have been torrents coming down on us over the last month. A short Easter holiday in Dartmouth had to be cancelled at the last minute, as did our plans did to go on the junior rugby tour to Devon last weekend. To cap it all, we had booked flights and accommodation in Shetland to go to the Folk Festival. Unfortunately, I am not fit enough to remotely contemplate that, which is perhaps our biggest disappointment. I had planned to cover a race meeting at Wincanton and have also missed a couple of shows in Weston-super-Mare that I was looking forward to. Today marked the first Tote Sport Sunday League one-day cricket match at Bristol, and that too has had to go by the board. C'est la vie. Silver linings I have had daily silver linings in the way of get-well cards, e-mails, phone calls and visits, all of which are throat-lumpers and tear-jerkers. I am deeply touched, if not humbled, by the care and concern shown by so many people, and will remain eternally grateful. Thanks again to everybody who has shown an interest in my welfare. Now, I just hope for some respite from the downpours. You can read the first and second parts of Mike's diary, as well as some of his reviews, by clicking on the links at the top of this page. | 
