Article – Page 17 – Middle Age Fanclub

Film Review: ‘The Phantom of The Open’.

Golf is one of those sports and subjects that tends to polarise opinion, isn’t it? Many will quote the famous Mark Twain line about it being “a good walk spoiled”, but for every one of those there’s a fan who is simply addicted to the game. Wherever your opinion lies on golf though, I think you’ll enjoy the film.

The Phantom of the Open is a 2021 comedy drama starring Sir Mark Rylance. It tells the true life tale of Maurice Flitcroft, a crane driver from Cumbria whose attempts to enter the British Open back in 1976, caused much controversy amongst the golfing fraternity.

Watching the film I came to the opinion that Flitcroft was very much a modern day working class hero. Here was a man who despite having never picked up a club in his life, decided to dream big. Partly down to naivety and partly down to his desire to live a full life and follow his dreams, Flitcroft applied for the tournament, bought some knock off clubs and gear and began to practice.

But this film is not all about the golf. Maurice is simply a lovely man and a born optimist. He encourages his wife and sons to dream big too and helps them out in any way he can. What ensues is a touching tale of working class family life and love that teaches us that even when the chips are down, to keep on dreaming and keep on smiling. In many ways, the golf and Maurice’s pursuit of some kind of Open glory is a bit of a sideshow.

That said, watching Maurice innocently take on the establishment and stuffed shirts that seem to dominate golf even to this day is an absolute riot! Ticking the ‘Professional’ box on his entry form is just the start of the fun. When he actually takes to the course – having been turned away from his local course by the snobs that govern it – the hilarity hits like a whacking drive down the fairway, all the way to the green. Needless to say it doesn’t end well, but this only leads to Maurice continuing to stick it to ‘the man’ by attempting to play the tournament year upon year!

Mark Rylance is just superb as Flitcroft. I must admit, when I saw that he was doing the film, I was surprised to say the least. Maybe I was guilty of the same snobbery that the film tackles, but Rylance’s name screamed Shakespeare, rather than comedy tales of wayward amateur golfers. It turns out that I needn’t have worried as the subtlety of his portrayal of Watkins is just wonderful. Rylance nails it, portraying Maurice as honest, naïve and vulnerable, while also conveying his endless kindness and love for his family. Maurice is a character that you might just find yourself falling for, such is Rylance’s performance.

The rest of the cast are brilliant too. Sally Hawkins (The Shape of Water, Paddington) is fantastic as Flitcroft’s wife, encouraging his dreams however absurd they might seem. Elsewhere, Mark Lewis Jones plays Cliff, Watkins’s every so slightly dodgy but well meaning pal and Rhys Ifans is hilarious as Maurice’s nemesis, the interfering Keith Mackenzie, the chairman of the almost sacred St. Anrdews gold course.

Sitting down to watch I was just expecting a bit of a comedy. A few laughs along the way and probably a bit of hilarity as our working class hero takes on the establishment. In reality what I got was much, much more. This was a truly engaging study of a great British eccentric, as well as a enduring love story. The Watkins family live for each other and love and affection is never in short supply, making for a really touching piece of film. And there’s drama too, when things inevitably go wrong with Maurice’s dream.

As a true story, the film sends out a message. It’s not just a chance to watch this funny little man do things he’s not supposed to. The film teaches us that there’s nothing wrong in following your dreams and that it doesn’t matter what others might say or even how unattainable those dreams might seem; if you want it, then the only thing that’s stopping you from at least giving it a go, is you.

The Phantom of The Open is very funny and at times brilliantly dramatic. It’s much more than just a film about golf. A true underdog story this film will take you on a rocky ride from start to finish and you’ll be rooting for Maurice all the way. And if by the end, like me, you find that there’s something in your eye, then don’t be surprised.

I’d give ‘The Phantom of The Open’

Back on the grass: I’m coaching again!

Just over four months ago, I sat on a hospital bed, typing out a series of WhatsApp messages informing various people of what I wasn’t going to be able to do for a while. Impending heart surgery will do that for you. I was surprisingly practical, but at that point was trying to think of things to do to keep the panic at bay. So those texts became vital. I wouldn’t be able to work for a while, I wouldn’t be able to see friends and family, I would possibly be even more grumpy and I wouldn’t be able to coach football.

The last one felt particularly desperate. I hated the idea of missing work, but at least there were plenty of people to keep everything moving and in actual fact, I wouldn’t be missed that much. But football felt different. I have twenty 13 and 14 year old boys in my squad. They love playing football and I take my role in their lives – however big or small that might be – very seriously. I was really going to miss what I do and I felt like I was letting them down badly.

Thankfully, several people stepped up and the team kept rolling on. The Great British Winter played a wonderful and some would say inevitable part in having games called off too, meaning that I wasn’t missing anywhere near as many matches as I assumed I would.

Fast forward a few months and I was able to stand on the touchline at games again. At first, just as a dad and then when one week, when there was no one else able to take the team, I stepped back into my big coaching coat and took the team again, being very careful to keep movement to a minimum and to stay as calm as I could manage! Since then, there have been a few more games and a bit more of an active role. Grassroots football has that effect; as calm as you tell yourself to be and as still as you’d like to keep, becoming animated at the very least, is almost inevitable.

I didn’t dare to attempt an actual coaching session though. Training would involve a lot more physical activity and simply going out for my daily walk was enough to tire me out By 6pm, when we would start training, I was worn out and staying awake watching telly was a chore. So, despite feeling absolutely desperate to get back out there and work on the kind of things we needed to try out in games, I stayed well out of the way.

However, I told myself that once I got back to work and was finding that I could cope with that particular daily grind, then I would make the move to get back to training sessions. It still wasn’t straightforward though, as I had to cancel two sessions due to firstly my health and then the weather. And then, with nothing else to stand in my way, I was able to get back out onto the pitch amongst my team.

We train on a 3G pitch in winter, which means that the surface doesn’t need to be an issue. There’s no danger of ruining a pitch for weekend games. What there is though is an area that appears to have it’s own micro-climate. Training is literally a mile from my house, but it is almost always about 5 degrees (at least) colder and blowing a gale up there! My first session back was no different and we also had some driving rain too! It really didn’t feel too good to be back!

I made sure that I wrapped up warm, practically mummified in about four layers, but it was still freezing cold when we got out of the car. I felt a strange mixture of excitement and nerves; happy to be back, but terrified of the thought of getting knocked anywhere near my pacemaker. My cardiologist had assured me that while it would hurt, I’d be ok, but it was still at the forefront of my mind.

It made me smile that my team seemed surprised to see me as I arrived. Those that were there early were kicking a ball about on an adjacent pitch, seemingly unaware that I would be taking the session and of those that arrived a bit later, several of them headed over to train with our Under 13 coaches, who have been looking after them for the last few months!

And then it was time to set up. Dodging flying footballs is always a joy when you’re trying to get some cones down or mark out a drill, but tonight felt a bit different given my circumstances. The thought of a wayward football smacking into my chest made me wary to say the least and it felt a little like the start of Saving Private Ryan, but with size 4 footballs and no beach.

It turns out though, that training, like going back to a job you’ve done for a couple of decades, is a bit like riding a bike. It felt wonderfully familiar and it was great to back amongst my team, pointing things out, making little tweaks to the ways they did things and standing back and having a chat to our other coaches while the kids did the work. Unlike what I remember of riding a bike however, it was absolutely exhausting.

At one point I joined in with a drill as one of our players didn’t have a partner, but lasted about 2 minutes before asking another coach to take over. It felt like I’d just ran an 800 metres at full speed and I was completely out of breath. The legs were like jelly and I was just able to kind of stumble off to gather myself a bit. Ironically, when I checked my heart rate on my watch – force of habit these days – it seemed to be the only thing that wasn’t out of shape!

I’d decided to keep training simple for my first time back. Not too many drills, nothing complicated that would need to be explained time after time after time and not a great deal required of me. We’d do a couple of fitness drills, a passing drill and then focus on having a game where we’d have plenty of time to stop and start and point a few things out when needed.

I tried to stand back and just watch but it wasn’t long before I was on the pitch acting both as a ref and a coach and while I wasn’t really running around, it still took its toll. It seems even with the restrictions of a new pacemaker it’s difficult to fight my enthusiasm for football.

Before too long the next team to train were arriving and we were wrapping up the game and packing up kit. Other people were kind enough to carry the bags, but as we headed to the car I was suddenly aware of exactly how old and tired I felt! Even an ‘easy’ hour had practically wiped me out and so when I got home, soaked and freezing cold, I was quick to take off my layers and get into my now familiar, post pacemaker uniform of pyjamas and a hoodie. After that, the evening was just about trying to stay awake!

It’s great to be back involved with my team again. When I sent the initial WhatsApp messages, I told myself that it would only be a few weeks, but deep down I knew it was going to take me a good while longer to be able to have the strength to get back to coaching. At times, just a short walk or staying awake has been a challenge, so it tells me that I’ve made significant progress that I can set foot back on a football pitch again.

A few days later, I was still suffering. My back and legs ached and there was a real soreness around the scarring where they put my pacemaker in. My heart was still working perfectly well it seemed – albeit with a bit of help – and I was still smiling That’s what matters most at the moment.

Since then, there’s been a little bit of a bump in the road and I’ve had a rough week. I had to cancel the very next training session, due to a bug I’d caught which has not been pleasant at all. I’ve been back to being extremely lethargic and breathless too, so it’s been a timely reminder of the length of the road that I’m on, so to speak. Certainly, one training session does not mean I’m fit and strong again!

For now, there’s only a day until our next match, when once again I’ll battle my urge to get too involved in what’s going on on the pitch! I’ll undoubtedly have to take it easy and am sure that the eyes of my nearest and dearest will be watching me like hawks. Still though, I can’t wait for kick off!

NUFC: A few things about last night.

I hadn’t planned to write a Newcastle United flavoured post today. But then last night’s performance was so pleasing & there were so many points that occurred to me that I thought I would get a few things down.

It’s an obvious place to start, but Elliot Anderson was robbed. I won’t go into the details simply because I don’t think anyone could possibly understand the decision. But it’s safe to say that it was a ludicrous, baffling piece of refereeing and VAR completely outdid it’s own ridiculousness. Imagine that even being contemplated as a decision against Man It’d, Liverpool or Chelsea! It’s neither wonder we’re a bit paranoid about this whole Big 6 thing!

Elliot Anderson was just excellent when he came on. He suddenly looked like a much more mature pro and helped to keep the game going in our favour after the late first half goal. His goal showed that maturity as he not only read Isak’s ball over but then out-muscled the defender at the back post and planted a superb header back across the keeper into the net.

His reaction to the decision to disallow the goal was an absolute credit to him as well. Despite being robbed of a proper moment of glory, he was there visibly urging his team mates on. It would have been easy to sulk, but instead he carried on being heavily involved in the game, taking defenders back towards goal again and again and involving himself in every aspect of our play. While I wouldn’t say that he came of age, it was still a cameo performance of real quality and proof if needed that we’ve definitely got a player on our hands.

2. We are UNITED! It’s been evident all season, but what stood out for me last night was just how united we are. Team, management, fans and owners all pulling in the same direction for once is a joy to see. Against Forest we had various players including Bruno, Isak and Anderson all involved with the crowd, all imploring them for even more noise. And of course, the away following did everything they could to oblige. To a man, woman and child, Newcastle are united are pulling in the same direction for once.

The famous banner from the Ashley era proclaimed that we wanted a team that tried. Well, we got one. At the same time though, we got a squad of players that truly cares as well. And thanks to Eddie, we get that winners photo after every 3 points…to the delight of Mags everywhere!

3. We’ve been experts in game management – or shithousery, whichever term you prefer – since very early in Eddie Howe’s time as manager. It was in evidence, as usual, on Friday night with delayed throws and goal kicks and players making the most of their ‘injuries’. But Kieran Trippier holding the ball and pretending he was going to take the penalty in order to take the heat off Alexander Isak was moment of genius. He’d convinced me that he was going to take it so much that I was frantically trying to cast my mind back to penalty shoot-outs for England to work out the likelihood of him scoring! I’ve seen it lots of times since, but that grin as he holds the ball is just absolutely brilliant.

4. The referee, Paul Tierney, had an absolute shocker. Within about 10 minutes Forest had committed at least 4 bad fouls and could very easily have had a player sent off. Yet, Tierney and ignored them all and not long after was booking Dan Burn for asking what the f*** was going on. His inconsistency with Forest’s constant assaults carried on for much of the game. The fact that he’d freshly shaved his head for the occasion put me in mind of Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver and we all know how that ended. Suffice to say, the fact that he overturned a perfectly good goal for the reason he did shouldn’t have come as any surprise. And if you think back to our last league visit to the City Ground, when referee Steve Martin sent two of our players off and then proceeded to just make the rules up as he went along, last night wasn’t a shock at all.

5. Our former player, Jonjo Shelvey, gave a pretty stupid interview after the match. I wasn’t his biggest fan when he played for us, but what he said last night sent him further down in my estimation. If the irony police existed they’d have been inundated with calls last night after Jonjo told a reporter that our players were whingers. The bloke barely cracked a smile in his entire time of Tyneside and never looked too far away from a good whinge himself, particularly when Rafa Benitez asked him to run a bit more. Don’t forget, this was the same Jonjo Shelvey who was chuffed to bits with Steve Bruce because he didn’t want him to track back so much. Considering his attempts to break Bruno in half during the first 15 minutes he was very, very lucky to still be on the pitch, let alone giving a bad loser’s interview afterwards.

Last night’s result felt a little bit like another turning point in our season. It felt important, like we’d taken the three points against all odds. With the international break to come and a few results going our way today, let’s hope we can get a few more players fit and really kick on again when we return to the Premier League.

The Curious Case of the Newcastle United Academy.

There are thousands of legendary, unfathomable mysteries across our planet that stretch back as far as time itself. Big Foot; allegedly photographed stalking through a forest in Northern California many years ago, but neither hide nor hair seen since. The Loch Ness Monster; sonar deployed across the loch, grown adults upping sticks and living there glued to a pair of high powered binoculars hoping to catch a glimpse of what might well be some big tyres. And the Bermuda Triangle; so mysterious and fascinating that Barry Manilow wrote a song about it.

None of these make me wrack my brain for answers as much as Newcastle United academy system. Here is an organisation where every year a series of adolescents and grown adults go into work and seem to either stop functioning or disappear altogether and nobody seems to be able to figure out why.

As a supporter of some 40 odd years, I’ve seen many an academy product fall by the wayside. A succession of young men, thought to be among the best footballers the region, who then pull on the black and white shirt only to descend into non league football at best within a matter of a couple of years.

However, I’ve also even seen a relatively small number play for the first team before moving on to global stardom. That’s how old I am!

For as long as I can remember our academy system has puzzled and disappointed me. I don’t mean to speak ill of people who I respect – Steve Harper, Ben Dawson for instance – but something isn’t working. It hasn’t really worked for years, which clearly isn’t the fault of the two individuals mentioned above. Sure, there have been some successes over the years with appearances in an FA Youth Cup semi final as well as a smattering of players who’ve made the step up to the first team. But Sir John Hall’s dream of a team full of Geordies is around thirty years old now and it’s not been anywhere near happening. To put it simply, we don’t seem to be handling young footballers very well and with the greatest of respect, for every Sean there’s a Matty.

Our owners seem to be taking the academy very seriously indeed and are clearly intent on building the club from the ground up with investment in youth. Recent social media posts show that the club are advertising for emerging talent scouts across Europe and South America, so they’re clearly working hard to change our fortunes. The work of Dan Ashworth will hopefully ensure that there’s a positive change going forward, but at the moment, from the outside looking in, you almost couldn’t argue with the view that things are as bad as they’ve been in a very long time.

It’s easy to lay the blame at the door of Mike Ashley for the lack of success within our youth system. What he initially seemed to view as a priority very quickly became just another area of the club where he’d gladly cut corners.

Every season seemed to bring new faces to Newcastle who’d simply been released by other Premier League clubs on top of a succession of local lads deemed good enough to wear the shirt. It seemed to be that we might just be hoping to spot something that another club had missed in a kid that had been at said club for over a decade. So, we can probably assume that here Ashley and his cronies were treating the academy as just another gamble. A scattergun approach that showed no patience or planning whatsoever. Who knew?

Look past the Ashley years though and nothing really changes. Our last FA Youth Cup final appearance was when we won it in 84/85. I was there to watch the likes of Gazza, Joe Allon, Gary Kelly and Brian Tinnion draw the first leg 0-0 at a packed St. James’ Park, before winning the second leg 4-1. Four of the starting eleven on those nights went on to make a decent number of appearances for the first team. One, Gazza, would go on to become possibly the most naturally gifted footballer that these shores would ever produce. We’ve produced players of first team calibre only sporadically since and there’s been nothing remotely like a Gazza. Instead, players like Lewis Gibson and Bobby Clark have been allowed to leave for other Premier League clubs.

Historically, we seem to have missed out on many of the best players that the region would produce. Bobby and Jack Charlton, Bryan Robson, Ray Kennedy, Michael Carrick and Alan Shearer all slipped the net over the years. And that’s just a list of some of the very best – there have been plenty others who should have been picked up by scouts, but instead went elsewhere. Three of those would go on to captain England and only Shearer ever played for the Toon.

Nowadays, it continues to happen with wonderkid and alleged transfer target, 15 year old Chris Rigg signing for Sunderland, despite reports of the emotional pull of Newcastle United, who his entire family apparently support. Whether we sign him or not, it’s a failure of the system that he was missed in the first place.

What strikes me about our academy nowadays is that there seem to be regular changes in coaching and directorship. With a little bit of thought and 5 minutes worth of googling I can name Ben Dawson, Joe Joyce, Steve Harper, Peter Ramage, Elliot Dickman, Neil Redfearn, Alan Irvine, Neil Winskill, Kevin Richardson, Richard Money, Gary Caldwell, Peter Beardsley, Tony Caig and Graeme Carrick. All have been involved in the academy over the last 15-20 years, some for what felt like 5 minutes. And I’m sure that there will have been a lot more that I couldn’t name. I’m sure that some have done a great job too, but we still aren’t producing players as regularly as we should be. Now, I don’t pretend to have an in-depth knowledge of how academies work, but I’m guessing that the better ones have a much smaller turnover of staff than we seem to have.

Our system has also been subject to much controversy over the years, with alleged bullying, mistreatment and racism making the headlines. It can’t make good reading for potential recruits and their families. Certainly, if either of my children were good enough to attract the attention of professional clubs – sadly they’re not – then I’d be looking at how they’d be looked after pretty closely. Allegations of racist abuse and bullying would make me look elsewhere, whatever my allegiance. As a fan, it’s definitely something about the system that alarms me and it cannot be helpful for the progress of players.

In terms of other successful academies, it’s not just the obvious places like Chelsea and Manchester City where we might cast an envious eye. Southampton’s system has been superb for years, while Leeds United continue to produce a steady stream of players for the first team, as they have for decades now. Even teams like Charlton, Sheffield United and Crewe have academies that make ours look like a waste of time.

Further afield, enormously successful clubs like Bayern Munich and Barcelona may well splash the cash on superstars, but their academies produce them too with the likes of Thomas Muller, Jamal Musiala, Gavi and Ansu Fati playing now as well as countless others from the past. Lionel Messi, anyone? Whichever end of the spectrum you look, we seem to be lagging behind.

This season has been strangely familiar for our youth teams in terms of results. Our Under 18 team currently sit in 10th place in the their 14 team league, having won just 4 league games all season. Meanwhile, our Under 23 team are 8th in their eleven team league, again having won only 4 games out of 15. While I understand that it’s not simply about winning at that level and that we do seem to have some talented young players in the set up, surely we should be aiming for better results than we’re getting? The fact that Elliot Dickman was relieved of his duties just over a year after taking the job says a great deal about where our youth system seems to have been heading.

Eddie Howe has been proactive with the youth set up from the start, bringing various players up to train with the first team, talking them up in the press and taking them in match day squads. Still though, only Elliot Anderson seems even remotely close to making the step up on a permanent basis. Others have been sent out on loan, but this is a route that sadly just doesn’t seem to work at all.

It’s to be hoped that Dan Ashworth, Eddie Howe and his staff can start to make progress with this side of the club and that we can start to see more young players coming through in the not too distant future.

I was reading an article on the BBC website about the approach to homegrown players that is taken at Real Sociedad recently. Sixteen of their current squad are homegrown and over the years they’ve had a hand in the careers of Mikel Arteta, Martin Odergaard, our ex player Mikel Merino, Alexander Isak, as well as current Premier League managers Javi Gracia, Julien Lopetegui and Unai Emery. Their sporting director, Roberto Olabe stressed the importance of patience and perseverance, saying “At 14, 15, 18, 20 I know of no architects or musicians that are outstanding, so it is very difficult to discover a football player at that age too. A player needs time.” He spoke about not sitting back and waiting to see how a player develops, but of moulding young players and offering professional and emotional guidance and of course of giving them the right amount of time and experience in order to develop.

It struck me that the attitude I was reading about sounded like the attitude I’d read about from Eddie Howe and what I expect from a figure like Dan Ashworth. So, maybe there is hope.

Clearly, Newcastle United have a problem to solve with the academy and it does seem that the new owners are being proactive in finding solutions. It would be wonderful to be seeing a good number of local lads in the first team squad, able to hold their own. But, like the message we get about the development of the first team – evolution not revolution – this will not be an overnight change. Hopefully though, the foundations are being laid and if we can just be patient for a little while longer, the young players of the future won’t be lost like Shearer, Robson and the Charltons, so badly let down like Matty Longstaff or allowed to go backwards like Sean Longstaff under the previous regime.

Here’s to the future of NUFC. Hopefully it’s in safe hands at long last!

Pacemaker Diary: First week back at work? Completed it, mate…

A couple of weeks ago, when I started back at work again it had been 108 days since I’d had a full day at work. On Monday 7th November, 2022 I’d become unwell in my classroom, suffering with heart palpitations and ending up in the Accident and Emergency department of the Leeds General Infirmary. Later that night, I was admitted to a ward. And so it began…

At that point, I thought I’d have to have a few days off work. That wasn’t to be. Even when I received the news that I would be having a pacemaker fitted though, I reckoned I’d be back in my classroom within a week or so. So, the 108 days ‘rest’ has been a tough one to swallow. It’s kind of exposed my lack of medical knowledge too!

My employer has been amazing about everything. While I was off I was regularly reassured that I just needed to take whatever amount of time was needed in order to get better and every time I said that I felt guilty for being away from work, I was told to stop it! Each time I submitted a new sick note they reassured me that it was no problem at all.

Then, when it came to the time to think about starting back, they put a plan for a phased return in place. It’s a flexible plan that just depends on how I’m feeling and it has eased me back in incredibly gently. This in turn makes me feel very guilty all over again, but I guess that’s just something I need to get over!

My first two days were treated as KIT (Keep In Touch) days, designed for me to just get used to being back in the building, really. So there was no teaching. In fact there wasn’t much at all. But, as I quickly found out, I needed to just get used to being around the place and the people.

On my first Monday, I was beyond nervous as I drove in. My hands were shaking and I felt physically sick, even though I’m always very comfortable at work. However, as I attended our morning briefing it was genuinely lovely to see so many friendly faces and speak to people who were pleased to see me back at work. Literally nobody knew I was ill at the time and so I think it had come as a bit of a shock to more people than I would ever have imagined. There were handshakes and pats on the back aplenty and it really helped to settle the nerves a bit. So thanks, if you were one of those people.

Those first two days were largely spent sat at a desk in our English office, clearing emails and reading through lessons, just to get back up to speed a bit. I tried to stay in there as much as I could get away with as I was finding being around larger groups of people a bit overwhelming. Having spent nearly 4 months being on my own a lot of the time, 900 kids and over 100 staff was a bit of a culture shock. A far cry from shuffling around the local park and muttering to myself about dog walkers!

On Wednesday I taught my first lesson. It was only Year 7 and only an hour, but it felt amazing. I surprised myself with how easily I slipped back into teacher mode and I thoroughly enjoyed myself, despite the presence of an Ofsted inspector in the room next door! I was assured that they wouldn’t be allowed to come into my lesson, but I still feared that they might just go rogue!

By the end of the hour I was exhausted. My mind was racing, but thankfully my heart wasn’t. My legs were like jelly and I felt like I’d done some kind of comprehensive workout. I’d taught a lesson which felt fantastic, but more importantly, I’d taught it in the room where I’d become ill on the day when I ended up in hospital. I was very concerned about being back in there, but it was OK. So far, a couple of weeks on, there have been no flashbacks either. It’s not that I thought there would be, but these kind of things happen all of the time on the telly, so you never know! Maybe I’ll add the flashbacks in when the inevitable call comes in to make the film of my dramatic pacemaker journey!

I was supposed to teach another Year 7 lesson immediately after the first one, but I knew part way through the first that I wouldn’t be able to do it. Luckily there was already a cover teacher in place; another example of how work are looking after me.

I left work every day that week at around 11.30am to go home. I can’t thank them enough for that. I genuinely feel that I want to be looked after. But I also feel conflicted by this. I know that the phased return plan is for the best, but it’s still frustrating in a lot of ways. However, as I’ve been told time and time again, I have to listen to my body and at the moment it’s telling me that while I’m well enough to be back in work, progress is going to have to be made with baby steps. So as frustrated and guilty as I might feel, I’m going to have to swallow my pride and be a big boy about it all if I’m going to get myself back to normal.

I’m happy to report that I had a lovely first week back at work. The fact that Ofsted turned up to inspect the school just as I was coming back is very much typical of my luck, but even that didn’t spoil the experience at all. My colleagues made sure that I was shielded from all of the stress and from my point of view, it was nice to be able to act as the voice of experience and pass on some words of advice at stressful times over the two day visit. It made me feel ever so slightly important again; something I haven’t felt in a while.

It was great to be back and feeling like I had a purpose. Better still to know that my body is just about standing up to the strain, even if I did leave yawning every day! I even snuck in an after work run on the Thursday because there was no one at home to tell me not to and it was a lovely sunny day. It felt great, even if when combined with a morning at work, it wiped out my afternoon. It reassured me though, that hopefully, I’m going to be alright. I just have to take things one day at a time. and stumbling step by stumbling step until I get to the top of this particular mountain.

Thanks to everyone who’s helped me through these last few months. Some of you will know who you are, while others won’t realise just how much they’ve helped. Thank you from the very bottom of my overly scarred, but machine controlled heart. And sorry again for what I’ve put you through.

Ed & Jase’s Sunday Night Takeaway!

Five things we can take away from the Carabao Cup Final.

It didn’t end the way that we all wanted it to, but last Sunday, however you watched the game, was a one that will live long in the memory. Once I’d stopped sulking I wrote a few things down about what we might take away from our Carabao Cup final. So, for what it’s worth, here you go.

We’ve arrived. If we didn’t know it already, we’re kind of a big deal nowadays. It’s not that we haven’t been a big club before Sunday and it’s not like we weren’t getting noticed. But Sunday’s Carabao Cup Final appearance will have made a big difference. It’s not because of the performance on the pitch because while we were OK, we didn’t pull up any trees and certainly didn’t play to our potential. What will have made people sit up and take a bit of notice is first of all, the fact that we made it to a final. We were there. The effort put in by our fans will have been difficult to ignore too and I imagine that images of the black and white flags around Wembley, as well as the events around Trafalgar Square on Saturday night, will have gone right around the world. I mean, who could ignore a gazebo in a sea of black and white at a major London landmark? Sunday at Wembley will have been noted by potential sponsors, by kids around the world and by potential transfer targets and who knows; maybe some time in the next 10 years or so, when we sign some superstar wonderkid, they’ll be telling reporters about not about watching ‘Goal’ but about watching Twitter videos of fans coming off trains at Kings’ Cross singing about ‘that team we call United’ and thinking, I’d love to be a part of that some day.
Our city has pride again. I’m no longer a resident of Newcastle, haven’t been for years. But it’ll always be home, always be my home town. And watching fans at Wembley, listening to players speak of their desire and their pride had me close to tears. Make no mistake about it, Sunday was a big deal despite what some will tell you about a Mickey Mouse cup, and we can be proud of every last minute. We’ve gone from being the laughing stock of football during the Ashley years to being a team, a club and a city that absolutely matters. We’re a talking point again and we’re competing in meaningful games at the top level of English football. Even the stupidest of mackems can’t deny that.
The team have gained vital big game experience. It’s an obvious thing to say, but this team has come a long way in a very short space of time. And while the likes of Kieran Trippier have been there and done it, when you have a look around the squad there’s not a lot of that kind of thing knocking about. Some have made appearances at World Cups and Euros, but in terms of club football, big game experience is lacking. While the game itself clearly didn’t go to plan, the all round experience will be invaluable to our players. From young kids being around the squad for the week of build up to those players who got minutes at Wembley, it’s money in the bank so to speak. Let’s not forget the management team too, the majority of whom haven’t had such unique experience before. Eddie Howe’s notebooks will be like the complete works of Shakespeare after that one! There should be no doubt whatsoever that we’ll be back playing in big games in the near future. Now though, we’ll be armed with a bit more knowledge and a bit more experience and I feel sure that it will be vital in making a difference.
The squad needs investment. Manchester United boasted game changers with genuine quality in their eleven. De Gea, Martinez, Casemiro, Varane, Fernandes and Rashford all just had a little bit too much for us on Sunday. Even their bench had real quality sat there watching. And Harry Maguire. Meanwhile, we might well have ‘Bruno in the middle’ but genuine star quality is a little thin on the ground. What we have is a good Premier League eleven that are overperforming. Don’t get me wrong, we have some fantastic footballers in Tripps, Maxi, Miggy, Isak etc, but six of our starters were at the club during the Ashley years. Some of the squad were part of our Championship winning squad. These are players that have been outstanding for the club and they’re players that we love. And while I still don’t wish to deviate from the ‘evolution not revolution’ stance and have no problem with what Eddie Howe and the ownership are doing, it’s clear that more quality is needed.
We have to move on. For what it’s worth I thought we played reasonably well on Sunday. There were chances missed, blocks made and a little bit of bad luck going the other way. I mean, I think the better side won, but you’ll never convince that first goal was onside. You could make the VAR screen look like a child’s Etch-a-Sketch and I still wouldn’t say it was onside. Nor was it a free kick in the first place. What’s important now is that we move on quickly. There can be no hangover. Not with the likes of Fulham, Brighton and Liverpool chasing us and Spurs within touching distance in fourth place. Personally, I don’t want to settle for finishing 6th or 7th having also had a cup final appearance. I happen to think we’re better than that. I don’t think the players will sulk, but I hope some of our bigger hitters start grabbing games by the scruff of the neck now and pushing for one of those Champions’ League places. I hope that days like Sunday have whetted a few appetites.
Can someone have a word with Loris Karius about those gloves please? I wasn’t concerned about his past mistakes. I didn’t dwell on the fact that it looked like he could have saved their second goal. But sweet Jesus, I couldn’t get those gloves out of my head. It looked like he was playing in the kind of driving gloves last seen in the 70s or on the hands of present day octogenarians as they drive incredibly slowly to the shops. Brown bloody gloves? We might have got beat, but Manchester United should hang their heads in shame at the fact that only scored twice against a bloke that looked like he’d borrowed his gloves from Alan Partridge.

Let’s hope that we get Sunday out of our systems as quickly and that we can and end the season as strongly as possible. It’s been a hell of a season so far and I really hope we can keep on putting noses out of joint!

Howay The Lads!

The Carabao Cup Final: Let’s get positive!

Who would have thought it? Who would have imagined that we’d have travelled so far in such a short space of time? But, we have indeed come a long way and it’s fair to say that it’s been an amazing journey to be even a small part of.

When the takeover finally happened in October ’21, we all dreamed of something fantastic for our club. Just different levels of amazing, I suppose. While some fans imagined the signings of Messi and Mbappe, others dared to dream that we might, just might, see a trophy in our lifetime. Whatever level you dreamed at, we were all just happy to wait and see.

Sunday’s game, whatever your dream, gives us all something to get excited about. Forget the lack of our first choice goalkeeper, forget the opposition and their current form and forget our current habit of creating a ton of chances that we don’t seem able to finish. Sunday’s game is the stuff of dreams and it’s massively important that we throw everything we’ve got at it, both as a fanbase and as a team.

It could be argued that this final is a bit of a shock. Certainly, in terms of Eddie’s mantra of ‘evolution not revolution’ it’s arrived ahead of schedule. But that can’t be used as a reason for us as a fanbase getting our excuses in early. For me, expectations need to be high. This team has come together quickly and surprised lots of us and lots of people in football, but they’ve also proved themselves. Sunday is not just a free hit because we didn’t really expect it; we’ve earned the right to be there and it’s very much a game that we can win.

In our last two cup finals – the FA Cups of ’98 and ’99 – we flopped. Both times, the team looked overawed by the occasion and wilted against better opposition. Both teams contained enough quality to do a great deal better and yet both failed miserably. This year has to be different. Lots of us were devastated by those late 90s failures. I remember being rendered particularly speechless by the defeat in 1999. I remember beforehand, holding a genuine belief that we would win. Not could win it, but would win it. Of course, we didn’t. We were poor, passive, passengers, behind early and never really in the game at all.

I can’t imagine this team being anything less than 100% prepared. Eddie has proved time and again over the last year or so just how far he’s prepared to go to make sure that the team is ready. When he joined the club we were amazed and excited by simple things like his his early starts and active role at training. It was the least we could ask really, but compared to the previous regime’s habits with days off and openly admitting to a lack of interest in tactics, Howe and his team were a revelation; something to grab onto. And that has continued throughout this season to the point we’re at now and a visit to Wembley.

There are positives wherever you look in the squad. A defence that is among the best in Europe. Players playing with a renewed enthusiasm and style in Miggy, Joelinton, Sean Longstaff and Fabian Schar. The return of Bruno, possibly the best midfielder any one of us have witnessed in black and white. The maverick genius of Alain Saint Maximin, who in the last game looked back to his scintillating best. And up front, the choice of either Callum Wilson or Alexander Isak. We’re no mugs and we’re certainly not going there just to make up the numbers. We have a chance, and not just a puncher’s chance either. We can cause any opposition trouble.

I’ve never been an optimistic Toon fan. I think that type of thing was knocked out of me very early on in my life as a supporter. Even when Keegan came along – as a player and a manager – I’d still expect us to lose or I’d worry more about the opposition than anything. I’m still the same, because I think it’s ingrained in lots of us. But for this weekend I refuse to have anything but the utmost faith in this team. This Sunday, I choose positives over negatives.

Recently, Eddie Howe said this: “I believe we can win any game against any team, home or away, if we’re absolutely at our best and I think we’ve proved that this season. We believe the power is in our hands and it’s up to us to perform at our best levels.” No mention of anyone else’s strength. Just Newcastle United’s. I’m with Eddie!

If you’re there on Sunday, sing your hearts out, back the team as usual. If you’re watching on the telly, enjoy it. What an occasion for our club, so soon after many of us had lost almost all hope. Fingers crossed we can bring that trophy home because it’s been a hell of a long wait!

HOWAY THE LADS!

Defining Recovery: It’s not as simple as just resting up.

The idea for this blog came from a tweet that I liked a few weeks ago. It popped up on my timeline just because someone I follow had liked it and I usually scroll straight past most of these ones. However, there was a picture of a man wrapped up, wearing a hat, out in the woods by the looks of things and it made me think of myself doing similar, day after day for these last few months.

The tweet read, ‘Healing is not as simple as ‘rest’. It’s exercising, rehab, falling down, fearing and going deep into the pain and fighting your way back.’

In a strange way, the tweet made my day. Since having my pacemaker fitted and spending months off work, I’ve gone through all manner of stuff, but have lost count of how many times I’ve felt the need to brush it off and tell anyone who’s asked that I’m ‘slowly getting there’.

Over 3 months on from my operation and I thought I’d try to explain my own personal experience of recovery. I haven’t fully recovered and I think feeling that way is actually a long way off, but I think I’ve managed to get myself into a position where I feel a great deal stronger, fitter and more confident about my heart. So, before I start to forget the things I’ve been through, I thought I’d get some of it down.

I didn’t think I’d done a lot of resting, until my family told me otherwise. I was talking about the fact that I thought I hadn’t really got many naps in during my time at home and it brought about a few smiles from those around me. Apparently, the truth is more that I was napping pretty much every day for the first three weeks of being out of hospital. And while in hospital I just felt like I lurched from nap to nap, even pretending to be asleep on a regular basis so that the bloke opposite wouldn’t talk to me!

So in fact, I’ve been so exhausted during my recovery that I can’t even remember how it’s been a lot of the time. The first few weeks are a blur. I know that they featured a lot of pyjama action, a lot of irritability on my part and, so I’m told, a lot of napping. I’m told that there were times where I’d just fall asleep mid conversation, which sounds a lot of fun. I also remember feeling very frightened by it all, worried that one wrong move would pull the pacemaker wires out of place meaning that I’d have to go back into hospital.

When my first sick note ran out – after a week – I had a telephone appointment with my doctor. This made me realise how poorly I was. We spoke for a good while and I felt like I was having to fend him off at times, as he alluded to me going back to hospital. Then, when he settled for just issuing another sick note, he instantly doubled the time that I’d asked for. This was good, in that it settled me down a bit while also making me think that I could find lots of things to do with all of that time. It became bad pretty quickly when I realised that I wasn’t strong enough to even sit and read for over long, before I was nodding off! It quickly felt like it would be a very long month.

There have been quite a few unusual times since then. While recovering, I seemed to develop a bit of a stutter and at times simply couldn’t get the words out. Furthermore, I’d find myself talking about something one minute, then unable to remember a word or where the conversation was going next. And people would tell me about things I’d said and done, but I literally couldn’t remember a single bit of it. And – as per the quote that inspired this – there’s also been a bit of falling down. It’s amazing how many times I’ve taken a tumble when just trying to tie my laces, but that left hand side of mine just wouldn’t work for a good few weeks!

The healing or recovery process has been one of the most frustrating times of my life. I joke about tying my laces, but there were plenty of times in the first couple of weeks where someone had to tie them for me. My wife had to help me get dressed, as well as undressed, including doing things like zipping up my coat and putting a hat on my head if we went for a walk! I hated it, but it’s definitely the kind of thing that keeps you grounded, in terms of how you think your recovery’s going! I found that lack of independence incredibly frustrating and it was something that I struggled to deal with as normally, if something needs done, I just do it myself. Then suddenly you’re in a place where you’re not allowed to even get a glass of water and someone’s started doing your jobs around the house. Awful!

A combination of beta blockers and lack of sleep (I think brought on by taking beta blockers) made me feel like I wasn’t recovering at all. Every day, I’d just feel like I’d taken another hit and was back to square one, which was kind of demoralising. I’d be out on a walk, feeling like I was definitely getting stronger, watching my heart beat not quite hit what it had the day before at the top of a hill and being able to walk just a little bit further and yet I still couldn’t sleep, still couldn’t remember things, still couldn’t hold a conversation without telling someone to forget it because I couldn’t remember what I was going to say!

I struggled to sleep for well over a month. It’s still hit and miss now, but when it was night after night after night, it felt like it might never go back to normal and that being awake until 3am might well be how it was now. As well as leaving me exhausted, it also had me worried that I wouldn’t be able to hold down a job. Because of this, for a good while it felt like my life was about to encounter an even bigger change and it was a fear that didn’t sit well at all with me.

By far the most difficult part of the whole healing process has been the mental side of things. I’ve always felt that I was mentally very strong, but for the last few months I’ve been filled with a kind of fear and doubt that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. I suppose it’s kind of a given that I feared I might die, particularly in the early stages when I didn’t fully understand what was going on and then again when I stopped taking beta blockers. I felt that they were absolutely crucial to keeping me safe and so although I was pleased to come off them, as I was assured that they were adding a lot to my fatigue, I was nervous about what could happen when they were taken away.

It’s been difficult adjusting mentally to not being at work. Alongside that though, has been a bit of fear about going back there too. My final episode with palpitations and extreme dizziness happened in my classroom and I’ve not set foot in there since. The prospect of doing so again fills me with trepidation, even though thinking logically, I know it’s not the classroom’s fault. Nor is it work’s fault. But both things terrify me. I went back for an attendance meeting recently and to discuss my phased return to work and despite having worked there for 8 years I was physically shaking when I entered the building. It took me more than an hour to feel anywhere near right again and it was only when I ventured down to my old department that I settled more.

I’ve suffered with guilt the whole way through my recovery. Having covered up what was wrong for over 6 months, I feel awful about what I put my family through. My wife and kids watched me pass out in the airport before we went on holiday, as the palpitations hit and that makes me feel horrible about myself. My daughter has watched me like a hawk ever since and it’s been a balancing act dealing with the guilt as well as stopping myself becoming irritable as she’s asked again and again if I’m alright.

But the guilt hasn’t stopped with my immediate family. I know that my mam and dad have worried too, as well as my sister. Come to think of it, I’ve probably had my most in depth conversations ever with my dad across the time of my recovery as he’s opened up a bit and made it clear that he was worried about me. Believe me, us northern men aren’t always so forthcoming when it comes to our feelings, particularly when we’re of my dad’s vintage!

I’ve struggled with similar feelings where friends are concerned. Nobody knew a thing and I’m not sure what people must think of me for not at least confiding in one of them! Friends from work have had to cover my classes, set my work and even learn to adjust to life without the kind of ridiculously inane emails that I send on a daily basis. I really can’t thank them enough. Knowing that my other kids – my classes – are in their safe hands has eased that particular side of my guilt, but it’s felt like a real struggle. I know people would tell me to not feel guilty, but it’s been hard to avoid.

In all, like the tweet said, recovering has not been as simple as just resting. In truth, it’s been the most difficult time of my life and I’ve had to adjust from being someone who genuinely felt a bit invincible to being someone who has had to face up to just how vulnerable he actually is. It’s not a process I’ve liked and not one I really want to accept, which means that while I head back to work very soon, I’ll have to continue to work hard at my fitness and any mental blocks that might just be lingering.

For now though, returning to work will bring a sense of normality, but definitely not an end to my recovery or any sense of being healed. If you see me at work and ask how I am, I’ll more than likely say ‘good’ or ‘better’. What I mean to say but can’t, is that I feel sh*t scared, utterly terrified, panic stricken at the thought of doing any of this again, as well as riddled with guilt because of what I feel like I’ve put family and friends through. But, to paraphrase the tweet that inspired this, I’ll continue exercising, falling down, fearing, going deep into pain and fighting my way back.

Top 5 Benefits of having a pacemaker.

(I’ve added a couple of bonus positives to my Top 5 too. I always manage to think of more than I need!).

Since having my pacemaker fitted in early November, there have been quite a lot of dark times. Some if them have lasted for days, others hours and lots of them mere minutes when I’ve felt really sorry for myself before snapping out of the fog of it all. Ultimately, I can always fall back on the fact that I feel quite lucky to still be here, however dramatic that might sound.

Today though, I’ve decided that this pacemaker lark can’t all be doom and gloom. Obviously there’s a good side – it’s making my heart work properly – but there must be a lighter side too; a side that makes me laugh a bit. Because the lighter side of life is the one I’ve always liked to be on.

So, I sat down and gave some thought to what might be the positives of the fact that I’ve had a little machine surgically embedded into my chest! Because everything has to have a positive, otherwise what’s the point of bothering, right?

So, as a result of having my pacemaker…

I can now tell people I’m part robot. That way, I sound cool, futuristic and I am easily the closest thing I know to Steve Majors, the $6m Dollar Man. When I get back to work I can tell amazing stories about what I’m/it’s capable of. I can make up ridiculous tales to tell classes because experience tells me that they’ll believe practically anything you tell them as long as you can keep a straight face. Come to think of it, I can easily get away with this type of thing with some of my younger colleagues too, as they tend to be quite gullible. I don’t mean that as an insult, they just are and I know this because of the sheer amount of bullshit I’ve told them over the years!

2. I got to grow a beard. I’d never had any interest in growing one before, but during my hospital stay, I couldn’t really shave on account of being attached to a heart monitor. I could have taken it off, but then I ran the risk of having nurses knocking on the bathroom door. I found this out to my horror one time when they were frantically hammering on the door because my alarm was going off and the panic was so evident that even I thought I might be dying, even though I was stood on the other side of the door just having a wash! So, I didn’t bother shaving. Then, once my pacemaker was fitted my left hand side was rendered useless, again ruling shaving out. Before I knew it, I had a beard and to my surprise I really liked it. Thanks, pacemaker!

3. I may be able to get work as Santa later on this year. My cool beard is a great deal more white than I’d like. But, if I can work on my “Ho, ho hos” and other such stereotypically Santaesque dialogue, I might have a rather rewarding sideline come December.

4. I’ve watched a lot of daytime TV, especially in the first four weeks or so of my recovery when my days consisted of getting tired out by washing and eating breakfast and napping. I mean, there had to be something in between. And so, I’ve become a connoisseur of shows on Discovery and Sky History, as well as every show that revolves around buying a house somewhere sunnier than England. I still can’t bring myself to watch ‘Come Dine with Me’ though.

5. I can move to the wilderness with my new found skills. For the first few weeks of my recovery I made a regular 10am appointment with the Raney family and their show, ‘Alaska Homestead Rescue’. From doing so, I’ve realised that all you need to survive in the wilderness appears to be a good roof, a gun to shoot bears with, a greenhouse (who knew?) and probably some sturdy fencing. With a good 7 years on my pacemaker battery, I’m toying with the idea of buying some land in Alaska and moving off grid!

6. I’ve discovered a love of pyjamas. For years, I had refused to wear them. But, having lived almost exclusively in them for weeks, I can tell you those PJs can be a hard habit to break. Even when proper clothes became an option again, I’d regularly head upstairs in the middle of the afternoon to pop my pyjamas on again. And while I feel like, months later, I’ve broken my addiction, I’m still strangely fond of wearing those comfy beauties!

7. I’ve been given a bit of time to re-evaluate – work, fitness, lifestyle, food and drink. Serious stuff now. Although there’s no damage to my heart and I’ve been told that there isn’t a risk of heart attack, I’ve decided to change a few things. Although I wasn’t a big drinker, I’m cutting right back. I’ve been forced to anyway, so I may as well just carry on. I’m trying valiantly to watch what I eat as well and last week I created a new milestone in my life when I cooked a stir fry (the first I’ve ever cooked) that had three (count ’em) different types of vegetable in it. Three! I felt like a proper adult as well! Also, with my fitness now completely gone, I get to stage some kind of Rocky style comeback. I won’t be punching anyone, but I will faced with some kind of training regime, which I actually like. If I can just get over my fear of going running again… Having time off work has also enabled me to sample retirement. And it’s fantastic, if you take away the pain, anxiety, nausea, confusion and exhaustion! But, I’m hoping that actual retirement won’t feature any of this! So now, I have an age in my head that I’d like to semi-retire by and for the first time in many years I’ve done some research into my pension. I love my job, but it clearly hasn’t helped my health, so there has to be some kind of plan, however tentative. It’s no good vowing to change and then doing all of the same things all over again, however much you loved them.

So there we have it. Apologies for ending such a silly, lighthearted piece with such a serious few sentences, but it’s all true. And even the serious stuff has come about because of my pacemaker, so it had to be mentioned as a benefit, however unfunny it was!

I hope you enjoyed reading.

Fighting fit: The mind boggles!

As I write, it’s been 62 days since having my pacemaker fitted. A rough estimate puts that at 1492 hours or 89,543 minutes. That’s a lot of time to think. A lot of time to worry, to feel low or even just to find yourself giving up. However, there have been positives in that time too and I hope that from today, I’m going to start feeling the positives outweigh the negatives.

My last ‘fighting fit’ update was a few weeks ago. In the time since then there have been good and bad days. Christmas and New Year came and went and if anything, they slowed my progress down. Not only was my diet a bit worse, but the festivities take up so much of our time that I didn’t manage to fit in anywhere near enough exercise. Turns out no one wants to wander slowly around the streets keeping an eye on a wobbly, wheezing middle aged man dressed in a long coat and a bobble hat when there’s Christmas films to be watched or left over turkey knocking around.

However, I enjoyed both Christmas and New Year. We managed to see some family and despite the fact that my kids are a bit older now – 13 and 16 – it was still nice to see them open their presents. And I always enjoy seeing what my wife makes of the gifts that I’ve bought her. It’s nice to give gifts and it was nice this year that I bought my wife something she really wouldn’t have expected, but really liked. It was a print based around The Fairytale of New York, her favourite Christmas song. If you’re a music fan and enjoy artwork you might want to check out where it’s from – www.stuffbymark.co.uk – his art really is ace!

Once all of the celebrations were out of the way and the kids were back at school, there was a lot to think about. Given the return of a quiet house, the bonus of having the ability to think returned too! My main conclusion has been that I need to do more exercise and to do it regularly if I’m going to get my normal life back.

So, that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve had a few more visits to my favourite park and gone back to look at the two animal sculptures. This time I made sure to read the inscriptions and one of them gave me a lovely glowing feeling. It was on the Harry the Hare sculpture and it was about the fact that a local business had commissioned it. One line in particular got me. It just read, “For the people of Morley.” What a great gift! I hope others appreciate it and take time out to go and have a look. It’s literally a work of art! Whether it’ll succumb to vandalism, who knows? But I sincerely hope not. Anyway, here he is below.

And here’s the owl that I visited again the next time I was in the park.

The mental side of my recovery is something I’ve found really tough going. I’m not used to being poorly and not used to being unable to do the things I want to, physically. I’ve found it all very frustrating. I enjoy my work, but haven’t been in since all of this started. Furthermore, I’m faced with another month off sick now too. It’s led me to see pretty low days and I joined an online support group to see if it would help me.

Talking about my problems isn’t really me, but I’ve managed to ask a few questions and listen to what other people have been through and it’s really helped. Apart from anything else, it’s comforting to know that there are lots of people going through the same as me and lots of them who know a lot more than me and are happy to pass on advice.

The support group has also encouraged me to read a bit about pacemakers and what’s happened to me and that’s been a real positive. It was explained in hospital and on the visit to the cardiologist, but I suppose understandably, I didn’t really take it all in. Anyway, reading about my pacemaker and its genius has really made my mind boggle. It’s about the size of a matchbox but it has the technology to store a ton of data about what’s going on in there, while also pretty much making my heart work properly. I guess we shouldn’t be that surprised by the capability of modern medical technology…but I still am.

Another form of support came as a Christmas gift. My daughter bought me the book below – with her own money for the first time ever – and told me it was so that I could read it and not feel like I was going through it alone. Even typing that feels emotional, so you can imagine how I felt on Christmas day!

It’s quite a remarkable book by a poet called David Toms, who was born with a rare heart condition and faced up to his problems in many ways. In the book he talks a lot about the power of walking and, as this is something I do a lot, I could really relate to his story. He also eventually had to get a pacemaker, so what he had to say about that felt really useful too. Reading the book also helped me to see that I could get through what’s going on with me. David Toms has faced up to a great deal more than I have and despite whatever setbacks or challenges, he’s found the strength to just keep going. So, keep going is exactly what I’ll do.

I’m beginning to realise how long it’s going to take me to feel better both physically and mentally. Two months on and I’m still tired out very easily, especially compared to the way I was before and the level of fitness I had. The area around my pacemaker and my scar is still sore and my movement still restricted and I’m left breathless much more often than I’d like. And mentally, testing myself out terrifies me, but I’m just so incredibly frustrated by how weak I feel. Even when I get back to the normality of work, I know that I’ll still be nowhere near fitness and nowhere near feeling confident. It seems it’s going to be a long road.

And with that, I promise to update you whenever something interesting happens. Fingers crossed that it’s not any kind of setback though!

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