Day 34 - pathetic fallacy reversed*

*Just 'cause, you know, I'm a literature student of a subversive nature and I like to shake things up a little.

In all seriousness, though, this weather (which some might, quite rightfully, term 'shoddy' - especially for June) is completely failing in its quest to get me down. It seems, rather, to serve only to buoy up my mood. I suppose this might be odd. Actually, I don't suppose - it is odd. I mean, it's June, for goodness' sake - even in the UK it doesn't get this bad at this time of year.

So what do I have as an explanation for an incongruously sunny disposition? To put it simply - my body. It's not just that my physical state is making the rain and wind pale into insignificance, however, or even that the cold doesn't send me into spasm. Both of these, of course, are absolutely amazing and I am engulfed in gratitude (no, 'enveloped' is better, because it emulates the warm hug-like feeling I'm carrying around these days); but it's more that I see just as many possibilities in grey skies now as I always have in blue.

Before I get shot for using a terribly clichéd metaphor (Warwick New Writing, I'm looking at you, and that court martial you have a pen poised and ready to sign!) I must stress that I mean this literally. My wheelchair contains around £10,000 worth of electronics. (Thank you, NHS, and I shall do everything in my - comparatively small - power to ensure that you aren't prevented from providing a similar service to others in the future; I am forever in your debt.) When a machine such as this provides you with your sole method of transport, you kind of baulk at the idea of getting it too wet. Recently, though, I've allowed myself to contemplate the day upon which this might not be such an issue.

I've always wanted to spend some time in a torrential downpour. Call me sentimental, but it's the simple things in life, and I'm sincerely looking forward, not just to singing, but dancing in the rain. I hope you'll all come with me, even just the once...

...we need to celebrate the spirit of life and generosity - all the money we're raising! £411.13 in just four days! So much love and thanks and silliness for you all!

Day 33 - with a little help from my friends!

I wasn't really sure what to write about today. When one has a daily blog, especially one with a specific focus, it's a worry that either things won't be relevant to the topic, or people will get bored, or both. Some days, such as yesterday, I'm very clear in my mind about the subject matter. Others, that isn't so much the case, and then I fear that I commit the worst sin conceivable when it comes to anything wordy - I waffle. Particularly as this is my first major, sustained and (crucially) public venture into the blogsphere, and with it into the domain of the interweb, I am incredibly conscious of my awkwardness.

I similarly don't want to repeat myself. Today's post, nevertheless, shall necessarily touch on something that I'm mentioned before. I'm going to talk about being thankful, though not in an abstract way. You see, despite having said it many times before, I need to say again how inordinately grateful I am for all of the support I've always had and still continue to do. This week has completely blown me away. I never expected people to rally around me to quite the extent that they have. It's really impossible to quantify my utter amazement and joy.

So, today, I want to thank my friends, old and new, close and far away. In England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, France, Italy, Norway, Poland, South Africa, Tanzania, Canada, the USA and everywhere else I am lucky to have extended family, both blood-related and non-. You really are appreciated, even if I'll never quite be able to express just how much.

I'm so happy you're plodding with me.

Day 32 - Race for Life 2013

Don't worry, I'm not running it this year - I haven't jumped the gun that much! I shall, however, be attempting the next one and today I thought I'd tell you why.

There was a girl in my class at primary school. She and her family had come over to England after escaping the war in Liberia, so she only joined our school in Year 4. We nevertheless got very close very quickly, because we both had differences which made us self-conscious and shy. Tina, you see, had leukaemia and she'd lost all her hair as a result of several hefty bouts of chemotherapy; so she wore a hat. Some of the not so nice kids (I won't say 'nasty' because, in hindsight, we were all just as troubled as each other, but dealt with things in very different ways) took great delight in knocking it off her head, just as they loved putting my chair on manual and rolling me down the hill that one time. So we'd pick each other up (metaphorically, thankfully) and dust ourselves off. We even wrote a Year 6 SATS exam together as I was in hospital, recovering from an operation, around the same time as she was there for more treatment. For a girl who's used to solitary confinement in exam periods, because I dictate, it was the most fun I've ever had during a test.

Tina died on Hallowe'en in October 2004. It's her birthday today. She would be turning twenty. Happy birthday, dear, and welcome to the third decade club. Love you always.

In Year 6 I was a playground friend. I spent most of my time in the 'little playground', with Reception and the Year 1s. I seemed to get asked for a lot - mainly, I think, because they wanted either to sit on my lap or stand on the back of my chair! Two of the girls lived on my estate - one in the same little crescent of twelve houses and the other in the flats around the front. We used to 'play out' together an awful lot. It was great fun, if a bit of a stretch for a tomboy like me - they wanted me to be their mum and I'd pretend to drive them to all sorts of different places.

The girls could've only been about five then, though they both had older siblings. Erica, the one who lived slightly further away, had the cheekiest of grins and I called her 'my little monkey'. She was devastated when I left for secondary, as was I to leave her.

At some point in my first year, a friend called and said he had some news. He asked me whether I remembered Erica and, clearly unaware of how close we'd been, proceeded to tell me that she had a brain tumour and that they were switching the life support off very soon.

She was seven, and it's eight years today since they did exactly that.

I'll run in memory of them both.

On a happier note, though, I feel you should know about my Gramma, who had uterine cancer when I was about seven. Thanks to brilliant doctors and a hysterectomy, she survived, and has constantly been a wonderful support and friend. So I'll run for her, too - it is, after all, the Race for Life - and I'll end with a focus on the living!

Thanks, as always, for reading - and we've raised £300 in three days! I'm overwhelmed with gratitude!

All love to you.

Day 31 - June is busting out all over...

Huge respect to anyone who knows the musical that's referencing.

I bet you all thought this post, from its title, would be about the weather. Well, it's not. It's more concerned with the fact it's now 5th June, which means I've been at this a whole month. As I said yesterday, what an amazing month. Everything is happening so fast that my mind and my body are racing to keep up.

Which brings me to my main point: what has been the most amazing thing about this month is the amount of love and encouragement from you all. I know I said this the other day but, well, I just have to say it again because it really means so very, very much. To know that you're all beside me, that I have your good vibes and positive thoughts, is incredible. I can't thank you enough.

I'm talking about moral support here, because that's the most important thing. Your comments, your texts, your personal good wishes - and of course the awesomeness of Ania, Lizzie and Asia on the front line at uni, and that of Mama and Jo-Jo when I'm at home. I feel truly blessed.

There's another element too, though, and one by which I'm equally overwhelmed. You've already helped raise £245 for Starlight - and the page only went live yesterday. That is amazing. You've made me cry tears of gratitude. We've already raised enough to grant a child's wish!

Thank you so very much.  Every penny truly does count for a charity like Starlight because, although they are small (with tiny, unassuming offices at Paddington Station), what they do makes such an impact on children's lives.

Even if you can only spare a pound, please do so - it will be gratefully received - and I've set up JustTextGiving to make it that little bit easier. Using this method, you can donate smaller amounts of money (£1, £2, £5, £10) via text - at absolutely no extra cost to you!

So if you'd rather do it this way, simply text JPWB53 and your amount to 70070. Otherwise, there's a widget on this blog if you want to go directly to my online page.

Thank you, and thanks a thousand times over for all your support, in all its forms. I didn't know it before but I now realise just how true it is - you'll never walk alone!*

*NB - I'm a Chelsea fan and always will be. Liverpool stole that song from Carousel and ruined it by association. So watch Carousel - the originals are always the best!

Day 30 - month one draws to its close

So we are coming to the end of this, the first month of my mission - and what a month it has been! Today's post shall be dedicated to two topics, encompassed by a single word - gratitude.

I firstly wish to thank all of you for reading this blog and supporting me in all the wonderful ways that you do. Your encouragement means the world to me. To know that I have such awesome people behind me is truly the most fabulous feeling and I honestly can't thank you enough.

Secondly I want to thank Starlight for all they have done. I wouldn't be where I am today without their support - and this mission certainly wouldn't have been possible. So, in order that I can give something back and help other children to have a chance of some magic, I've been trying to set up a widget - and today I've done it. You'll find the box to the right of this post, and it's very easy and secure to make an online donation, by clicking the 'donate' button for a direct link to my page.

Whatever you can give will be greatly appreciated - my target, aptly, is £2013!

So much thanks and love, as always.

Let's keep plodding, and grant some other children a slice of happiness along the way!

Day 29 - she stands to conquer...

I didn't think I'd post today because I'm in the middle of writing yet another essay. I really don't mind - this is why I love my degree! It's for my module on the eighteenth century (complete joy =D!) and is on what has fast become my favourite play of the era - Oliver Goldsmith's She Stoops to Conquer. Sorry Sheridan and Lady Teazle! My subject is the presentation class dynamics and whether it constitues a subversion or a perpetuation of the norm. Anyway. That's enough of a boring academic diversion. The reason I mentioned it is that it turned out to be rather apt for this blog...

I have to take regular breaks for the sake of my body. I do this every day, so it's pretty much a matter of course - especially at uni. After yesterday, though, I've learnt I can do things here that I thought were only possible in the safety of my own home.

I told you all about stepping in the morning, but I kept deliberately quiet about doing it again last night as I was getting into bed. This was even more amazing because I was barefoot. Before I began this mission I'd almost lost hope of walking with shoes on, let alone with out them. It was...just. Just wow.

I'm so grateful to all of you for being here with me. I truly, truly am. I can't quite put it into words so instead, as the hugest thank you, I have a surprise.

Today Ania and I walked again. It was just as magical, but there was one difference - Asia filmed it. So here it is for you all to see:

 

Hope you like!

Now where are those parallel bars?

Love you all, and THANK YOU! Happy Day 29!

Day 28 - early morning jubilation...

...And I don't mean about the Jubilee. Sorry Liz.

Getting out of my chair this morning, I pushed myself up on my own. Then, with Ania (one of my PAs) holding me, purely so I didn't fall, I shifted my weight properly for the first time in years, and took a few fully-formed steps.

They were still supported, but without the hoist - so it felt pretty damn amazing.

My mother's in Turkey. Sorry, Mama!

Life is good. That is all.