It’s Good to be Alive

We have been away from Plymouth for nearly three weeks. So much has happened and for one reason or another I have let this blog slip.

I have chronicled the events of the last two weeks in diary form, but for those who find this tedious and are just checking the state of my health scroll straight down to the bottom of the page.

29 November

Maxine and I spent the day recovering from a typically boozy Southam rugby club ‘do’. In the afternoon I fill in the on-line application for disability living allowance.

Putting the things that I can no longer do alone down on paper was a bit depressing to say the least.

I am lucky to be surrounded by good friends who are patient and willing to help with all these mundane tasks. Of course Maxine is taking the brunt of the workload and she is doing a brilliant job.

In the early evening we set off on the first leg of our hastily arranged travels. The plan is to catch the overnight ferry from Portsmouth and then drive down to Val d’Isere from Le Havre.

30 November

The journey down through France was not without incident.

Coming out of a service station I trip over a small wall. Both feet are impeded so I am unable to break my fall with my feet or right arm. My face hits the tarmac with a sickening thud and I am paralysed by pain.

I think I am going to vomit. Battered bruised and cut around the eye where my (now damaged glasses) have torn into my skin, we head back inside to apply some ice and take stock of my wounds.

It dawns on me that I am going to have to be careful on the slopes.

Any fall is potentially a head injury! At least I have packed my helmet. Perhaps I should wear it all the time!

As we get closer to the Alps we drive into a violent snowstorm. Max drives as long as she can but eventually I take over.

We make good progress and the roads are clear of snow. As we start driving up the hill (30 km) the snow is beginning to settle.
Because

a. I am tight
b. I am arrogant
c. I am stupid
d. All of the above

we are not carrying snow chains.

With 5 kms to go the car comes to a standstill in deep snow. For a moment we are alone. Several cars approach and understandably pass us by.

Then a van pulls over and a couple of English lads jump out and try to help. They are hitching up to Val for a night out.

Their lift drives off and leaves them pushing our car in their going out gear...jeans and t-shirt. After ten fruitless minutes we decide to turn round and drive into to Tignes le Breviere.

The lads disappear up the road with their thumbs out. The journey back down is equally hazardous and we pass several vehicles that have been abandoned by their occupants.

We arrive in the village and are welcomed by more English lads who have been warned of our imminent arrival. They make us a coffee and we phone a taxi.

We arrive in Val at 11 pm, in good spirits despite the long journey and the fact we have abandoned our car with all our ski equipment, clothes and food inside.

1 December

I wake up to a thousand choices. Chains or no chains? Descend into the valley or hunt around Val d’Isere? Bus or hitch? Breakfast or lunch?

There is still three inches of snow on the road. I decide to hunt round Val for chains and hitch down to the car. Maxine stays in bed! All goes smoothly.

I find the right chains for my car in the local garage. I am assured they are the best brand and am charged €85. Armed with my new toy I hitch down to the car.

I am offered a lift as soon as I put my thumb out. Hitching is still an approved method of transport in the Alps and I am hit with a wave of nostalgia.

I first came to Val d’Isere ‘by thumb’ 22 years ago, to the day. I feel sorry for all the youngsters who have missed out on the brilliant experience that hitch hiking is.

As soon as I leave Val the roads become clear. The chains will be redundant.

I don’t know whether to hope for a storm when we leave or to take them back. For the moment they will stay in my boot!

2-5 December

Our world has been spinning for a month. Since being diagnosed the choice I made to ’go public’ and try to raise money and awareness of MND has meant neither Maxine or myself have had a moments rest.

The constant stream of visitors and meetings has been a welcome diversion but has taken their toll as far as our energy levels are concerned.

Now for the first time we are alone and can rest and spend some quality time together. We spend our days skiing and evenings just resting in front of the tv or dvd in the apartment.

Most of the skiing we do is on reds and blues but in preparation for the arrival of the ‘big guns’ we attack a few blacks.

My general cruising tunes when skiing are songs by Bruce Springsteen and George Thorogood. This week my in-built juke box is stuck on a euro-hit from the dark disco days of the seventies, Patric Vallencants Good to be Alive.

I also have a little dabble off-piste and end up helping some English kids down off a cliff.

Their confidence outweighs their ability and they are lucky not hurt themselves as they come tumbling down the steep slope and land in a pile at my feet.

I growl something at them about being safe in the mountains and then ski off, by myself and with the use of only one arm. Do as I say not as I do!

5 -10 December

With a few miles under our skis our first visitors from home arrive. Chris and Anita are absolute beginners and it is great to spend a couple of days on the nursery slopes with them.

They are overwhelmed by the whole experience and it is great to see them so enthusiastic about the mountain.

I have promised to take Chris down a black run. Unbeknown to him the black is closed due to the preparation of the World Cup piste , so towards the end of the second day when I take him to the top of Bellvarde he thinks he is going to be coming down the Face Olympic.

Chris is overly confident by nature, but suddenly the blood drains from his face and he starts asking me if I am sure he should be doing this.

To his credit he managed to control his instincts and slowly and with great control followed me down the mountain.

It took him 40 mins which seems a long time compared to the 2 mins it will take the women racers this week but it is a great effort for his second day on skis and when I offer my hand at the bottom of the run he wraps his arms around me and hugs me.

Get a grip of yourself man! Late that evening he celebrates as if he has won gold in all five Olympic Alpine ski disciplines on the same day.

Chris and Anita leave early Tuesday so Max and I ski together before the arrival of another debutante, our nephew Jamie.

He too is bowled over by being the mountains and we pick up his skis and boots in the evening so that we can get straight on the slopes in the morning.

Jamie looks confident as he traverses across the nursery slope, even skating to gain height so he can slip down to the drag lift.

He listens carefully and successfully makes it to the top of the short lift. At the top we traverse again before he tries his first turn.

He almost gets it but when he tries to turn again he freezes and careers down the slope. He falls innocuously but it is apparent that he has seriously damaged his shoulder.

We walk him over to the medical centre where it transpires that he has dislocated his shoulder. His skiing is over for this week. We are all bitterly disappointed.

Jamie is rounded enough to know which side his bread is buttered and when we offer to send him home he says “ you must be joking.” He spends the next 5 days soaking up the atmosphere and trying unsuccessfully to chat up barmaids.

11 December Onwards

The week-end arrives and we are inundated by old friends from home. They are all doing different things towards fundraising so chairlift rides are spent discussing functions, calendars and charity sports events.

It is great to ski with a big group of lads. It is good to know I can keep up with top class skiers, even if we are only cruising around at high speed.

The weekend passes too quickly and most of the crowd go home. I will hopefully ski with them all again. I am still hopeful of skiing Chamonix in the spring and I know that many of them will want to be there if I do.

The time here has allowed us to rest and relax and enjoy the slopes without the normal pressure of a six day ski holiday.

Howard and Christine will be with us until the end now and for the first time it feels like a holiday , but we are still taking it very easy and trying to manage my tiredness.

I still feel fairly good, not ill in any way but am becoming increasingly dependent on others to dress and wash me.

Dressing for skiing is an impossibility and I am reliant on ski buddies to pull gloves on, buckle and unbuckle ski boots and help me cut up food in the mountain restaurants.

I tried using a sling to support my arm but have found I ski better without.

I am also dropping my head forward when skiing very fast and think my neck and upper back muscles might be deteriorating quickly.

My speech is poor most of the time and with my wasted arm it is evident that something is wrong to all who meet me. I think most people think, like the nurse who attended to Jamie, that I have had a stroke.

For the record I am claiming another bucket list target.

I have had so many friends out and we have had a brilliant time. My old friend Didier refused to ski with us on health grounds and by the look of him he should do a bucket list himself.

He has equipped all visitors with state of the art ski gear and promised a discount to any friends who mention my name when they visit JeanSports in Val dIsere...I am giving him some MND association t shirts which should create some attention.

We have three skiing days left and are hoping to catch up with one more old friend, Bryn. We will watch the ladies ski race from our balcony on Friday and are hoping to meet British skier Chemmy Allcott after the race.

We leave on Saturday morning and will drop H and Chris at Geneva airport before stopping in Paris on Saturday night.

We have had an amazing time and it will be sad to leave Val for the last time. I know that when I pop in to JeanSports it will be to say good bye not au revoir.

There have been so many memories here spanning back over the last 22 years. I am sure a tear will be shed as I leave the village and head down the valley for the last time.

It will be good to be back in England with family and friends for Christmas. We have the calendar launch on the 23rd and are off to South Africa on New Year’s Eve, so it is go go go.

We have to do things now while we can!

See you all soon

Simon

Still living the dream!

Father Abraham

Forty naked men (except for club ties), aged between 20 and 60 jumping from one foot to the other whilst wildly waving their hand about their heads and singing... This was the scene on Wednesday night as we completed the ‘indoor ‘shots for the Calendar.

The theme is ‘a rugby day ‘Dan so has constructed shots from training and team talk, through to showers (all done in the best possible taste) and finally after match entertainment.

The lads presumed we would pose for the Father Abraham shots but I used the opportunity to do a complete run through.

Starting fully clothed we sang the whole song, taking off one piece of clothing after another until we were left in our birthday suites... any women unlucky enough to venture in at that point would have been put off men for life...

My voice held up and my wasted and useless arm was a cause of great hilarity as I tried to manipulate it around my head.

You have to be as close to each other as we are to understand why no offence was taken, I can’t explain it except to say there are no boundaries to friendship... Anyway I am claiming my first completed task from the bucket list... a big Father Abraham has been ticked off!

Everyone was talking about doing it again when we all meet up on Boxing Day but I am not sure where I will be with my health.

Perhaps I need to find a successor to lead this song... I can feel a reality style show coming on...
We are on our way to Val now.

We have stopped in the Midlands to attend an event organised by Southam RFC chairman Dave Hazelwood.

Dave started at Priors Marston C of E primary school on the same day as me in 1971.

He is three years older than me (although a hard life tending his dairy herd on the Warwickshire/Northants border makes him look ten years older) and I NEVER mention the fact that on that day in Mrs Lancaster’s office it was he who was crying his eyes out. SOFTLAD.

There will be several others from that tiny school there today and I have been humbled by their response to my illness.

Jim Cross, Dave and Harve were amongst the first to ring and have organised a party of players and wives to come down to Plymouth for the rugby celebrations in early May.

My legs still feel strong, so apart from what I am going to do with my right arm, I am not too apprehensive about the skiing.

I will start with a pole but if that gets in the way I will lose it and tuck my hand into my jacket pocket.

There is not a big enough base (of snow) to go off- piste yet so those joys will have to wait for the end of the season.

I have started to notice wasting in my left shoulder which is a concern, however inevitable.

I have been really tired as we have packed to go on holiday, put the house on the market, managed meetings about fund raising/websites and attended medical appointments.

The brunt of much of this has been taken by Maxine who is bearing up magnificently under the strain.

We are both looking forward to a bit of down time when we arrive in Val d’Isere.

There is a sauna in the residence and I am hoping to be able to sate my new addiction...massage.
On the fundraising front I have had some brilliant news.

The school children of Plymouth will be doing a half marathon challenge and half the money raised will be going to my charity.

Thanks go to Mike Carpenter (Schools Sport coordinator manager ) and Nigel Rowe (race director) for organising this.

Nigel has also agreed for NMDa to secure fifty places for adult runners in the main event on 30 May. We are asking all of these runners to secure £1000 so this will really add to the coffers.

Thanks Nigel.

I feel privileged to have an opportunity to spend a bit of time doing things I love, raising awareness of MND and trying to help others less fortunate than myself.

I know some people are a bit shocked by my attitude, but I am not in pain and feel I need something to occupy my intellect.

I have had several friends whose short lives have ended abruptly and they have not had the opportunity to say their good-byes, ensure their loved ones are catered for or complete a list of things to do before they die.

I hope their families can take some kind of vicarious pleasure in what I am doing.

When I started my bucket list I had no idea it would capture so many people’s imagination.

I am keen to finish it and just hope I don’t fall down a crevasse or get eaten by a great white before I do.

How ironic would that be?

Loving you and leaving you

Simon