acceptance and realisation

In order to start this post, we have to travel slightly back in time.

2011 and I was at a college in Hereford. So far, I’d been reported for doing stuff that society considered to be unacceptable. Not adjusting to change, for example when my friends wanted to do something else, I would get frustrated and annoyed, doing everything I could to sabotage their plans. I had had enough of being summoned to the office almost every single week. For one reason or another. What was going on? I can remember a few examples. But vaguely. I was brought in for many a strange thing, listening outside doors? Using the key in my corridor to enable me to get to my friend who was upstairs to talk to her. Speaking out of turn. But… What was out of turn? Not understanding why people did not like my views. Trying desperately to protect my friends when they were going into potentially bad situations. But what was protective and what was too far? Why did I protect her? Was it fear or was it the fact I could tell it wouldn’t be good for her? Or was it simply my experiences alone making me want to protect her.

I was having CBT with a counsellor, to try and figure these things out, but they were struggling. They were trying everything in their power to help me understand. I simply wasn’t understanding. I would agree with her on the techniques we tried, trying to remember how to do things better, or not to say things that would incriminate me or perhaps get me into trouble.. But there was just no getting through. Not there anyway. It was about the 10th time of being summoned. I walked in, knowing already that I was in for it. For starters, the manager did not like me and the feeling was mutual there. I did not like her either. Not at all. The usual start of the conversation was the whole spiel about doing what ever it was I’d been reported for. Then they’d ask me did I know that was wrong or did I know how that person would feel. I would say yes, but cry at the same time, perhaps because I felt some sort of remorse or because it was possible that I couldn’t understand but could not verbalise this? Or express it? A lot of the time, now looking back, perhaps I did not understand how what I was doing could have hurt people or how it was wrong. I thought people were getting at me, always on the attack. This time at college was about to change things. They assessed me for Aspergers, now known as high functioning autism. It turned out I did not have this, but was there something else? It would take almost a decade of sheer hell and trauma to find out the mystery to my behaviour and one that would be a shock to many, but a huge relief to me.

Again, we have to move slightly back and turn the hour glass just a few months before that meeting in late 2011. Summer of that year, and my friend had started to notice changes in me. He was on vacation and doing Russian homework at the same time. My brain perceived it as, if you are on holiday, why work? You should relax. My friend was not one for relaxing. His studies were important. Likewise are mine. This day would turn into a nightmare. One of many that would test our long-standing friendship to its very limit and push it over the edge, potentially breaking it for ever;

This day I flew into a rage, shouting at him, at the top of my voice, just because he was doing his homework. It culminated in his grandmother telling him to end the call. It took a while for me to calm. We didn’t think anything of it, but the rages and mood swings kept on coming. With ever more virulence.

Something was wrong, but we had no idea. No idea that a superstorm of electricity was building in strength in my brain; and when it came, it came with catastrophic consequences. That storm was epilepsy.

Now we return to late 2011 when the first seizure struck. It was a few months later, into 2012 when things were more noticeable. My behaviour was more destructive, my ability to understand the bigger picture as some call it, to empathise and reason, were impaired. The seizures were not frequent, but more came in 2012, 2014, 2017 and 2018. My impulsiveness was stronger and at times, destructive. The anger was worse, with violence. The relationship with my friend was strained. We were being tested to the limit, something was going to give somehow.. But what was all this? Why had this all happened? There was a cause. But what was the cause? At the moment people did not know.

In 2018, I had a neurologist appointment. Looking at my records, as previously mentioned in a post, he mentioned about a haemorrhage in my right hemisphere. I did not think I had one, until I was told by the GP that I had indeed, had a haemorrhage in my right hemisphere. This was also where my epilepsy originated. Before generalising.

I started then to wonder myself, was there a connection?

Then this year came, with lockdown. This year was also when the friendship with my friend was pushed over the edge. It was then that we made the connection between my brain injury and my epilepsy. Yes, my MRI scans are normal and show no evidence of the haemorrhage, but my GP informed me that it has left invisible damage to neural pathways and cognitive ability. The epilepsy has in fact, changed my personality and slightly affected my ability to empathise and reason. Now we know, what caused these rages and unexplainable moods. From the highs, to the severe lows. The lows that would make me feel suicidal. The lows that would make me not even realise I was feeling suicidal. Now my counselling has taught me to become more self aware of things, to employ more strategies, as well as joining some groups for people with brain injury. I am now very relieved as I understand my little quirks and how I can somewhat rectify them. I have a better support network of people around me, who remind me of my techniques and help me. Explain when I may be wrong and how that will impact others. It may take a while for me to understand but I am getting there. I am also going back to my studies of psychology with the OU. Open University. I have decided I would like to help others with ABI (Acquired brain injury) like myself and potentially go into the neurorehabilitation area of things. I have finally accepted it is my ABI with the epilepsy that has changed me. I can fix some of it, but not all. It’s the acceptance now that has to come from others, but it will come. Eventually. I will still be curious. I will still ask questions about my own brain, because I’ve always been curious about it, ever since my epilepsy developed. Hopefully now, this means my life will have changed for the better and I can move on, onto pastures new. As they say. To help others, not just myself. I do hope you enjoy reading my posts. I apologise for the lack of updates. May you all find something informative in my posts. Even though it may be hidden.

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Out of the darkness, into the light.

Last week, I tried an antidepressent, sertraline, as a last resort to try to calm the mood swings, rages and anger that I have at times. It comes so quickly i cannot recognise it in time. Eventually, it can lead to violence. I started the sertraline, feeling quite happy that day. I’d gone to the shops, and bought a pie to eat for lunch. After eating it, I got some of my favourite biscuits, molted milk. The chocolate covered ones. Sitting to eat them, I suddenly felt tired, my brain not focused. I did not like the biscuits, or want to eat them. Feeling dizzy, I went upstairs,. If i’m going to vomit, I need to be near the toilet, I thought. I suddenly froze at the top of the stairs, listening to the buzzing sound of the fridge in the kitchen. A loud, G in pitch. After standing for about a minute, frozen to the spot, I then went to my room, and lay down on my bed. The all too familiar, feeling of hot heat going up my spine, tingling in my fingers, and buzzing like a current of electricity was buzzing round my head like a circular loop. The sound of the fridge buzzing with it too, changing in frequency. Standing up to go to the bathroom, in case I was going to throw up, I tried to move, but couldn’t. I abruptly sat back on my bed, and turned onto my side. Struggling to focus, and to pay attention to anything. It was a seizure warning, known as an aura. A Tonic-clonic was possibly on its way. After about 5 or 10 minutes, it subsided. I thought, well, it’s just the sirtraline getting into my system. It’ll be fine. The next few days, were horrible. I started to struggle to swallow solid foods, known as dysphagia. My appetite was suppressed. The thought of solid foods made me feel sick. Yawning all the time, also made me feel nauseous. I was tired, and not with it at all. I then started having absence seizures, with each one lasting more than a minute in length. It all came to a peak on tuesday this week. That morning, I’d only eaten one mouth full of my two slices of toast. I was only taking in fluids, and liquid soups to sustain me. Something was very wrong, and we knew it. Ringing the surgery I tried to speak to a GP, but the nurse was very helpful and booked a 30 minute appointment so I could be weighed. Arriving there that afternoon, I was weighed. I’d not lost that much weight, but it did worry me a lot. The nurse sat down and we spoke about the sertraline. I then burst into tears. You’re really struggling, aren’t you. She said. I was. I knew this was not going to work. After a long discussion, in which she spoke to a duty gp, we agreed citalopram, known as Celexa in the US, would be more beneficial, as i’ve been on it before. As well as this, she agreed to change my asthma regime. We’re going to speak regularly for the next 4 weeks. There was a ray of hope. Sure enough, the next day, I was eating normally. I no-longer had the dysphagia issues, but I was given artificial saliva pastils just incase I was to have them again. As well as this, we now have the official go ahead with my therapy. The counselling is being paid for. AND we can now commence my therapy. This will be interesting. So while the last few days were filled with struggles and being in tempestuous waters, with gale force winds all around and currents sweeping me under water, I was now being rescued. Again. My SOS was heard, and I was found, and pulled from the waters to safety. If one wishes to use a metaphor there. I was now out of the darkness, and into the light. The light I cannot see, but the sound I can hear. The next few weeks and months will be interesting.

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What was happening to me?

I just thought I would give you a glimps into the journey me and my grandmother both followed to the ABI I have, without realising it.

All my life, I’ve had frustration, you may think that is normal, rage, normal, impulsiveness, hmm, normal? There were the little things, that people noticed that seemed odd. Certain things I’d do or say, but it was the last year, that really scared people, even me.

December 2019. A row that ended in frustration and violence. Not proud of that, but we now know why that is. My best friend speaks to me and stresses, he is struggling to keep going. In my brain, I’m thinking: What just happened? What happened over the last few hours? I can recall little bits of what happened, but not all. Bits of words, snatches of time, Snatches of certain things, sounds, etc. But now; The lows! The real bad downward spiral. The part you wish you weren’t around, the part you question why your friends are still standing by you. The part you don’t understand why people are mad at you. Why people are shouting, why people are blocking you on facebook, why trols are being trols; The bit you sit and hear time racing bye, at a speed of ferocity that you’ve not seen for ages. You sit on your bed, tears in your eyes, and still ask the question you’ve been asking for ages, when people keep saying the same thing, with anger and frustration in their voices. What is happening to me? Why am I like this? I don’t understand. Yet people ask the same things. Where is your compashion? Why are you speaking in that tone? Why are you being offensive? And so it goes on. And on, and on. Same old same old. There’s something, but I can’t find it. Argument after argument, anger episode after anger episode, asthma attack after attack. The events in every episode, blanked, blurry, with snatches of the event, but only short seconds. People ask me, what was said, who started it? Answers are still the same. I can’t remember… I don’t know… Yet, in these last few months, we’ve come to realise these episodes may be partly related to a brain injury I did not know I had. The small haemorrhage at a month old. Looking at the leaflets from headway has taught us so much. Taught me tips I do try my hardest to adheer too. Now, things are looking up. Yes, I still have the anger episodes, but they are much further apart now. I still have bad moments, and of course, one will. Brain injury is never a full recovery. It’s a recovery, to as much as one can recover. It’s learning, all the time. Neuroplasticity involved too. But you are not the only person learning, or following your journey. Your friends, carers, family are following it too. I’m hoping now the counselling I will receive, will help not just me, but others to understand me as well. For me to understand my ABI and learn when it’s playing up. Learn when it’s coming into play. To put the tips from the little booklets into practice. I hope you will all follow me on this latest adventure too. Another day tomorrow, another challenge I suppose. Another day coming out of lockdown from covid’s grip. We’ll see. I may just blog tomorrow about last Thursday’s social distance experience. Speak soon.

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counselling update.

So now we know. We know that the help I will get is geared directly towards the brain injury we now know i have. Yes, I will always emphasise this, my scans are now clear, but it could have left behind microscopic damage, that scans can’t pick up. The haemorrhage in question, was a ventricular haemorrhage that happened when I was only a month old. It happened in the right hemisphere, (side) of my brain. At 18 years-old, I developed epilepsy in the form of tonic-clonic seizures, which also originates in my right hemisphere. A few years later, I had a neurology appointment. He asked had I had a brain haemorrhage. I had said no, as I did not know I’d had it at the time of the appointment. After that, I was looking at the new app we have that tells us our medical records, test results, or medications. On there, I saw: Haemorrhage. Curious, I asked my gp, what was this haemorrhage? That was when he informed me, it was a brain haemorrhage. Surprised, I asked, Does this mean I have an acquired brain injury, also known as ABI. He said, technically, yes. After that, nothing more was really mentioned. I had an MRI scan, which came back clear, and showed no evidence of anything recent. My gp then told me, the old injury would have left its mark, but most likely in ways that scans can’t pick up. This is logical, and a few years after, it would perhaps, have explained the recent events.

All my life, we’ve thought, something’s not right, my nan informed me, after reading Headway’s leaflets on the affects of brain injury. She then stated, most of those behaviours I have. Impulsivity, intolerance, Unrealistic goles, Egosentricity, Reduced insight, (lack of empathy) Mood swings, anger, rage, Disinhibission. Commenting on things normal people, that is, people without any challenge, would not do. For example, commenting on why a person may have slurred speech, why they are smoking cannabis, and, out loud, stating they shouldn’t be. Another example, would be commenting on things on facebook, stating something I know to be true and logical, but that would not be something a person without challenges would say. As a result, all my life I’ve been judged, shouted at, told I was a… Insert expletive. Threatened, Reported for harassment, Have had people try to be friends, but then they run away. Ironically, I used to try and avoid people with the same things, such as epilepsy, or disability, A word I hate. But it’s come round in a full circle. Frustration is another affect of brain injury, which I also have. I do not have any of the physical affects, or things like that. However, most of the cognitive affects, excluding speech difficulties such as aphasia, or anything like that. I have a lot of the emotional affects also, but excluding some. Thanks to Headway, we now know why I’ve perhaps said, or done things i shouldn’t. Before people who read this think i’m making excuses, I’m not. I know i should not have said and done what I did, and that it was wrong. But at the time, I did not understand that. I did not understand why people would get mad or cross. What didn’t help my cause, is the nasty support worker I had at school, so ontop of this, I’ve had that to deal with also. A psychotherapist told me the other day, I was resilient. My response? Well, I had to be. Finally, I have got a counsellor who will hopefully help me to understand things better, and I have also applied for a brain injury identity card. As I said above, I’m not using this as an excuse, but I want to make a point. You see someone on fb being more brutal or blunt, it may not be the case, that they are being a genuine idiot. I think perhaps, such a card should be made for social media, a photo of a physical card you have, that can be pinned to your profile, stating: Something like: I may not understand things, and potentially misinterpret something. I have an acquired brain injury. I am having counselling, and getting techniques to help me with this. These are: Then a list of them. If you see a case where this is happening, please remind me of the appropriate technique. Or something along those lines. I have also switched my OU degree back to psychology, as knowing what I know now, may just give me the tools to help others. At least, that’s what I hope. On this lovely day as I write this post, I’m sitting in the garden, with the sun on my face. I’m also hearing the birds, sirens, and other people doing their gardening. For now, I will finish this post, and allow for reading. I know now, that things are looking up, and by the end of the year, I will be able to share my blog on facebook and twitter once more, but that depends, on how my counselling goes, and of course, how my brain takes the adjustments. I think so far, it’s taken them well, but… We’ll see on that one, Haha! Speak to everyone later then. Enjoy the weather.

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You think you’re helping but you’re not?

As a blind person, and someone with little experience of how people understand things, it’s hard for me at times. I see something, for example I see the need of someone if they don’t have a type of technology, if they’re not getting listened too by someone and I know they should be. I know this isn’t good for that person, and I want to help them. I know they need that piece of tech or that people need to listen to them, so I fight for that to happen. I tell that person they need a braille-note for example. Or I go to the place they work at, and tell them this person needs the braille-note. That in my eyes, I see, is helping them. To compound to the issue further, a person then says: Why do you think they need the braille-note? Because I see they need it, because it will help them to read. Is my response. So why then, do people perceive it the wrong way? People tell me to look at it from their point of view. I can’t; I don’t know how. It’s very strange to be honest. My brain seems to work in different ways, and over the years, parts seem to have changed further. Perhaps it’s because I don’t have as much confidence when it comes to social skills? Perhaps, it’s because of the epilepsy? I genuinely have no idea. I’m hoping though, that my counsellor, who specialises in adjusting to things, and other areas, will help me. I’m hoping she will help me to see things from other peoples’ prospective. I suppose, there will have to be some kind of miracle. People expect 95% or higher. We’re not perfect, so you cannot expect this. It will be interesting when I update everyone on how my counselling is going. You may see changes even then with my writing. It will be interesting.

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psychotherapy update

This is not a huge long post, but more an update. I had my psychotherapy assessment. The lady was lovely. We talked for about half an hour. About various things. She reckoned I have PTSD and also suggested counselling rather than CBT. CBT did not work for me in the past, so perhaps counselling would. I wonder what type it’ll be. Rogerian? Who knows. I want to say thank you to those who are supporting me and staying by my side throughout this journey. The people who will join me on the journey in the future. There will probably be many people to meet, but we shall see.

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Covid can teach us many lessons.

Another day and another day in lockdown. Ambulances going up the road, probably to another Covid patient.  Each day the cases rise, the deaths rise with it. I often wonder: What is it like for them? Alone struggling to breathe. Perhaps the last days of their lives, spent in hospital. Spent without family or friends. The only thing they’ll hear, is them trying to breathe. The voices of their carers. The ones we clap for every Thursday. The beeping of the monitors in hospital as their sats go down. The largest battle they’ll have to fight. The organs failing. The lungs filling with fluid they can’t control. Then finally, the sleep they will not wake up from;

Yet here everyone else is. Arguing with each other. Being nasty on social media to people they don’t even know, because they like it. What’s the point? What’s the point when your friend or family member may be battling Covid. When they may never see you again, with the last words being an argument? What about the person you abused on social media? You then find out the next day, they died of Covid? You then find out their friends and family are grieving, and while grieving, they see your comments? The screenshots you posted with intent to destroy this person’s life? The sheer thrill and kick you got when you drove people away from them? The retaliation they had when they tried to fight their defence. The family have to see that. See their reputation in tatters all because you wanted it. But they don’t know you, but they know Covid has ultimately won.

They see the enjoyment you gained? But why did you gain it? Why did you enjoy abusing them? What is the cause of that? Does Covid not teach us one thing? Never hold grudges.. You may have fallen out with someone, but is there any point in trying to destroy them when you have your own family or friends to be helping during the pandemic?  During times of Covid, live each day as if it’s one’s last. That virus is lethal. Help people where you can. Clap for our carers, NHS, Key workers, the people fighting to save your friend, relative, on that last ventilator.  The emotions that run high when they are finally discharged, when they have won the fight against Covid.  When lockdown is lifted, we will be able to see each other, be it with social distancing. But we will be able to give the hugs we never could give before. Will be able to speak face to face. But if Covid has taught us one thing, it is to learn forgiveness very quickly. You know that row you had the night before? Covid has taken them. Never argue and go to sleep on an argument. Covid will have taught us one thing, never take life for granted. It can be snatched in a second.

This is the war we will not surrender from. It’s the fight we have to keep fighting. Yes we’re in lockdown, but we can still talk with others. Hear their voices. In most cases, see them but not all. Make the most of the time we have with them. Even if it is apart. Remember that normal we had before? The world has changed; Covid changed that too. Remember the fight our own immune systems had? Covid weakens that too; Remember the fact we could all gather together? Yes, Covid, our invisible enemy has changed that too; Can people not just change their own behaviour? Can people not just come together on social media, not have arguments over a selfie, a comment that you thought was racist but how many others agree? Does that even matter? Can’t people just help each other. Text every day to see how they are? Text them when they are lonely?  They’re not normally lonely, but lockdown has caused that. They may themselves have Covid. Who wants to be alone when ill? Give them a voice to hear. A person to talk too if they are able. Every day ambiance to hear while they’re stuck in doors, or in hospital. The calming voice they need when they are coughing so hard they can’t breathe. The voice they need to hear when the NHS can’t deliver it.  The prayers they want because they know they may be dying. The music they love that they can’t hear. Can we not use social media for that? Can we not use it to communicate in this way? To share proper updates. In times like these, arguments should be out of the window. It’s now we should come together, even if apart.

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When you have to begin therapy in lockdown?

Just a few weeks ago, my life took yet another unexpected change, and would prove just who would stand by me and who would not. I woke up and was very happy. Went on facebook to look at the news, when I suddenly received a very angry message from someone. That was when things turned from a good day, into a very bad one. We then worked out a few days later, after reading up on the affects of brain injury, that my behaviours i have were all mentioned in that leaflet. I spoke to my gp and felt at such a low point. I didn’t know what to do anymore, or who i really was. lower than before I went to lourdes. I just wished that Lourdes wasn’t postponed until 2021 due to covid19. I wish that I could have gone back there, met my friends, sung with them, Laughed, gave them hugs, or at least virtual, social distanced hugs. But no, it wasn’t to be, and this was where I was right now. Sat here, with each day rolling into another. The same old troling from people, same hassle with people twisting things, the same conferences from the government, covid, covid, covid, all over the news. Clapping for our nhs and key workers every thursday. The sound of the whole street in applause did break the week’s monotony up. It did bring together those who we’d never met. I gained a friend, but for how long? I sat there, thinking of what the therapist would talk about, what i would be able to do, to prove those minions wrong. To prove i am not a narcissist, sociopath, or psychopath. Thinking about the 2 friends, that stood by me while I sobbed uncontrollably down the phone over both facetime and whatsapp. The friends who I’d have loved a hug so dearly. The friends who no-matter what, whether it was something extremely bad, though disappointed, would still support me. Then I thought about the friend i’d lost. The friend, who had supported me through the dramas of 2018, the seizures that followed, and the upwards hill, that followed after that. The friend, who had now left my side and would never return. The times we’d sit together, drinking schnapps, playing GTA, and laughing at the sounds it made, and the stupidity of the UK politicians. The lovely breakfasts and new meals I’d had with them, the chickens, and cockerals waking you at 4 AM with the crow of the morning. The tractors and farming vehicles going bye, and the dogs herding sheep, and barking at you for food. The lovely showers and other stuff, now would be no more. That was it, I thought. Why does anyone bother. When all I do is mess up, every single time. I just pray that at some point, I get the therapy, and will be able to start a fresh. With no more enemies to help the minions on their crusaid, No more dramas like that of 2018. No more events that would bring on huge asthma attacks, seizures, and or other things. Including chest pain. I just want to keep friends, for people to actually like me, for me to enjoy peoples’ responses on social media to things. To join in with the radiostation quizzes. Not to be blocked by people, removed from groups, or banned from charity pages, for no reason, or because i’ve said something i did not understand would make people upset, Have people being nasty, and making me feel like they’re right, that i am lying about my illnesses, that maybe i am a narcissist and other things. I know though this is not the case. But when someone drags you down that much, it starts to get very hard to prove to yourself what they are saying is lies. I’m very curious as to what the therapy may bring. I know one thing it will bring, and that is tears, many of them I imagine. I am hoping though, that I do not have to wait a year or more, before I get the help i desperately need to get back on social media and all the other things I enjoy, like posting my singing and other things to show people. This lockdown is not yet lifted. People are still dying, people are still getting infected with this virus that is in some ways, a death sentence. One would often wonder i suppose if they got covid, Is this the end? If I go to sleep, will I wake up? If in hospital with it, If it was me, I would say to the doctors, don’t let me go. I faught to live as a prem baby, I’ll fight again. I’d also pray. And have my rosary beside me. It’s so strange not seeing anyone, not hearing a single plane in the sky, only birds. Not hearing much traffic either. Only very few cars, busses, or lorries. You hear much louder sounds: Dogs barking, grass cutters, Strimmers, Birds flying arround, the squeaking of birds, Dogs sniffing. The clapping carrying along the wind every thursday, with cheering, pans and kitchen utencels being bashed together. The appreciation for our key workers, our nhs saving many lives, but also due to covid, losing some too. The emotions of those survivers being clapped out of ICU. The reunions with family. Once lockdown is over, the world will be very different. What was normality, feels like years ago. What is normal now, is the new normality. Old normality feels like something from another century. How will the new freedom after lockdown feel? It’ll be like a new year, like january starting all over again. But will it feel the same as new year? No. Will it feel like the old normality? No. But what is normal? Social distancing? More hand washing? Less tactile with others? Huge queues in airports being social distanced? What is on the other side? We’re still stuck in the underground tunnels, walking, for miles, with no end or sound from above. Just the silence from under ground, the odd drip of water i suppose, but with no one in sight from above, to find us, or to guide us out. They won’t; They can’t. So we have to wait. Wait until it ends. It’s not really when, But if, I suppose. We will meet again once more, but like the song says, We don’t know when or how, but we will.

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these times are strange and unpressidented.

As we sit here in isolation, all I hear is, this person died from covid. The covid. An enamy we cannot see. An enamy that once it arrives in our bodies, via a bacteria truck, heads down to the lungs and reaks havoc. Metaphorically speaking, here’s why we have to stay at home

A guy walks up to a door of a truck. He gets in. The driver, a piece of bacteria, unaware of his stow-away drives off, down the motor-way. AKA, the nose, and heads down to the service station. The guy, (covid) gets out and heads down a corridor, (the trachea. Walking carefully as not to be seen by any security guards, (the immune system cells) he creeps down into the lungs. After corrupting and blackmaling a guy who’s working on something, (a cell) he orders him to copy. Eventually, the cell dies. After a while, there are loads of the guy’s bagage, (the virus) infecting the lungs. By now, the lungs have realised there is something dangerous going on. After the main security guards have been alerted, people come to their aid. (Immune cells) There’s just one problem, The guys (the viruses) have corrupted some of them as well. It becomes a huge war, in which enamy and friend are both casualties. By this time, the lungs are overwhelmed. Infection by bacteria (the way the covid guy hitched a ride in) get to work, destroying the alveoli, the main sacks in the lungs, that blood gases difuse through, allowing us to breathe. The virus, (the covid guy) Sits there and smiles to himself. He’s done what he set out to do. He’s finally beaten his victim to a pulp. He’s distroyed the lungs. So, this is why you need to stay at home!

Now to a more scientific tone. This virus is brutal. It causes severe hyper-acute pneumonia. Pneumonia is actually what does you in. The virus just facilitates it. Destroying all the protective cells that boarder and protect the lungs. These are known as epithelial cells. Eventually, after infecting them, it distroys some of the immune cells, killer T-cells, and neutrofiles, distroying their proteins with them. This eventually causes a hyperactive inflamatry response, causing the imune system to overreact, and overwhelming the lungs. This pandemic is like nothing I’ve ever seen. I sit here day after day, reading the numbers of deaths climbing. The numbers of cases climbing. It’s scary. The brutality of the covid is astonishing. It’s hitting people who are healthy too. I often wonder what its genetic code is. How is it infecting healthy people, causing them to be chritical more than others? Please though, stay at home. While most may be lucky, only having mild symptoms, a lot may develop the pneumonia. Right now, there is not much they can do. You’re on your own; Your body’s left to fight. Fight a war that it may lose. A ventolator can help, but back to the metaphor, it’s fighting against a barrage of bullets and it’s losing. The ventolator in this metaphor, may be the heavy artillery, but it may not help. Please, stay at home!

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Our world has changed for ever

A few months earlier, and the world was a normal place. People going round minding their own business. Giving hugs, helping each other when they could. But in February this year, a war started. A war against a microbe we could not see, or hear. We could not feel it. And it’s still raging! People are dying, hospitals on their knees, businesses collapsing, the economy in almost recession. The world is changing minute by minute, hour by hour; Day by day! People are scared, People are emotional. The time now has come for us to learn from the older generation. We’re at war with an unseen enemy. We must pull together, help each other, support the sick. Comfort the bereft. The grieving. Although we can’t give hugs, we have to adapt, find other ways. The fear is felt in union as one! We’re a united world, united in fear! Grief for those dying, sadness, support, humanity. We can find sollis in the isolation. Joy from talking online. There are acts of kindness, and we can join them. We will get through this together. We can fight this together, as one.

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