Please note: this piece contains strong language.
In June 2022, Covid was in the news. Folk were dying and everyone knew someone who was sick. I got sick. I thought, 'I'll be okay. It will be like the flu.' It was. But then, it didn't go away.
I still felt knackered, shattered, flat out, run over by a double decker banjaxed. Doc said, 'You've got long Covid.' What the hell is that?
I soon found an online community who told me just what the hell it was, and what it was, was not good.
Ever woken up to find your life isn't your life anymore? Some evil bastard has nicked it in the night and got off Scot-free.
Can't work, can't walk, can't drink, can't do much at all of any of the stuff that makes life fun.
Slowly, slowly I grew a new identity I fought against but had to give in. I'm a disabled person.
Feel like cutting the hedge? No can do. Fancy a stroll along a lane by a field? Sorry, Mate, out of the question. Just sit there on that bench till they all come back.
Drugs? No ta.
Physio? You'd think.
Hope? Yes, that. Some boffins think it will be time limited, but they're only making an educated guess. I choose to line up behind them and guess the same, however uneducated.
Wish me luck.