LEGS ON WHEELS ' LABELLED-DISABLED'
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Part 3,,, Chapter 24... The Finale... Trading My Old Life for New Life… 2011 to the present 2018

4/6/2018

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Look at me in Isolation here I roll on an unknown path and know not where the tracks will take me
Lost between two worlds too late to leave one and yet too soon to reach the other 
I seem to be a million miles away and how cold and damp the air is that surrounds me
What is it that holds my limbs back from the fire that awaits so teasingly on the other side
 
The warmth of it is near I can feel it burning my skin but so elusive is it to touch 
I know not how I found this empty place that echoes even though I say no words
Though living imprisons me from either side I feel the scarlet and yellow flames burning me inside 
But cold its breath leaves me
Release me from this naked swirl of madness and I will close the door of comfort around me 
No longer insecure between two worlds
 


 
A reshuffle of my life had to be taken. Reckless love gave me a shattered heart and left me paralysed, back stabbing two faced fuked up weak friends, left me with a pocket full of worthless pennies that nothing could buy and to top it all off four years after the accident, I had three flash back memories of the night that left me with a disability. I got back in touch with the CID and ask for Him to be brought back in and re-questioned. Maybe He’ll be able to remember something this time…
 
In May I woke up early morning with a memory of July 16th, 2007. It blasted right in to spin me right out. Was it a dream I just had? Or was it a real beaming memory bursting into my thoughts like the sun light bursting upon my eyes through the curtains. Is my mind playing tricks on me or has my fractured memory bank started to glue itself back together trying to tell me my own story…? I mean, 
it would be nice to know what the fuk happened…



I was sitting on the middle cushion of my green three-seater chesterfield, with my right leg bent to rest my ankle on top of the left knee while I examined the torn off heel of my Victorian boot, which I held in my hand feeling bemused with myself.
My thoughts about having this memory gives me no idea as to what puzzled me and has left me mystified...
Anyway, the next blasting memory instalment was Him, walking into the living room, standing in front of me but giving me His side view as He stood and looked out through the balcony doors...
 
A few mornings later another memory joined the first and second. This one tells me I was in Picton Lane on my way to Yellow Cabs, when I tripped in a sallow pot hole and twisted down hard on my ankle causing the snapping of the boot heel. I walked lopsided through the taxi rank door and saw a pointing finger directing me to turn straight back around to the waiting taxi. Laughing at my walk I followed her order 
holding up my boot heel and happily went on my way…
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19th July 2011... The police ask Him to voluntary go to the station as they had a few questions to ask. He gave more or less the same statement He gave in 2007. I have it here on my desk oppressively sweltering next to me. It’s pages aching my eyes, His name typed in bold black capital letters burning my memory leaving me feeling so shredded deep within my heart, soul and spirt.
 
I studied His words with mine hoping to see our memories well-matched and able to fill in the missing parts of our puzzle.
 
He knows what happened, I have felt it ooze from His pours since He came into my room at Morriston Hospital to see me when He was told not to until after the CID had spoken to me...
I have never wanted to physically say it out loud, but I feel the need to write it in words before I scream it out with tears…

 
 ‘He did this to me. He is the reason I am paralysed’… 'but I don't know how because of memory void'.
 
No charges were brought against Him in the eyes of the law even tho CID felt this to be unfair. Circumstantial evidence was telling the story that I was thrown by ‘somebody’, over that balcony and a struggle had occurred… There was no third party there on the night just Him and me…

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2011... Summer was coming to its  end, and bumping into friends who had abandoned me in my hour or should I say my years of need, started to become an annoying norm every time I left the house.

Suddenly they took on the role of a common pet annoyance, the flea.
Fleas that have been hiding dormant in the cracks of life for a few years, but once the smell of my warm patchouli blood came near, out they’d jump to try and suck the life force out of me. These friends I want to catch and pinch their heads off with great triumph just to end their cycle around my existence…
 
Fat Cunt or Fatty as I call him in my memoirs, the one I asked to take my Ex in when our relationship started to crash… He saw me first in Swansea market when I was with my daughter, he walked towards me all smiles and happy, when close enough he started to bend down to give me a hug hello, when the force of my antagonism stopped him before his distorted thoughts of friendship and dirty paws touched me. I won't bore my memories but in brief it went like this...
 
He says…
‘You alright?’
 I say…
‘What the fuks it got to do with you? If you give a fuk you could of phoned  me, you could have called over to see if I was OK if you cared that much. I needed you and you never came'.
He says…
‘I’m sorry I…’
 I cut in and
 I say…
‘Fuk you... I don’t give a fuk, your no friend of mind and you can tell the rest the same’.



​A few days later as I was on my way home from town I see another so-called friend. I speak the same to him, after he asked me how I was. He called to the house half an hour later with some therapy shite and never came back, thank the gods I speak my truth. 
So many friends left me and expected a welcoming smile and warm hug on meeting years later. All giving me the same line as if they had rehearsed it together just in case they were to bump into me freewheeling around town… CUNTS… That’s all they are to me, and true to their core.
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2011 was proving to be a year of make me or break me and it was more on the break me side.
Always in and out of hospital, surgery for this, a small Op for that, then on the 17th August I was back under the knife for an Ileostomy, a decision I took upon myself to have done and talked about it with the surgeon.
It was time, time to shit in a bag instead of on the bed or in my pants. It has been the best surgery to date, I now have a Stoma that looks like a big fat strawberry without the seeds lol, and I can move about freely without the threat of pooing my pants.
I just keep pissing in them now lol…. Oh to be a para 😉…
 
The time had also come for me to sell Crowleys Rock Bar, my little empire, my pride of still being self-employed after becoming a paraplegic. I paid £8000 for the lease and put in £20,000 to do the place up, if anyone wanted to buy the lease I wanted £8000 and no less.
£8000 I got and tears I cried. Another part of my life has ended but my name Crowley is still above the door, and for that she lives on.
 
My flat down the Mumbles also had to be sold, again another hard decision to make. It was the last piece of my little empire to fall. Having assets, the government wouldn’t allow a full benefit claim, so it was sold to allow me to have enough benefit to live on. Politics only look after the tax giver not the cripples.

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​2012… I stopped writing in my dairy my best friend Pen and I had become distant, like me with the rest of the world.
 
I suffered deep depression, stayed in bed unwashed for months, not eating enough, not sleeping enough. Not conversing with anyone in good tone just shouting at all who dare try and tell me there’s more to life.
Fighting pain, fighting the never-ending pins and needles in my legs, fighting the feeling they are on fire before a spastic spasm dance tells me my catheter is blocked and I’m about to piss myself any minute.
I lost so much weight, my tits had vanished, my legs looked like match sticks with big nobble knees.
My hair was falling out, eyebrows have all but disappeared, eyelashes very sparse and my skin was as white as dairy cream... man made medication was the cause. 



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​2014… I came back to the land of the living, a new me had been reborn.  I had had a lot to think about over the years in my world of isolation. I changed my mind set and came off all prescribed pain medication, it didn't fuking work for a start, so I just stuck with my forever faithful Green Buddy and my 'Just deal with it attitude', that had come back to life.
 
I started to go out and meet up with old acquaintances, but the catheter always leaked and left a trail of piss from where I’d been, to where I was going, usually leading right back to my front door lol.
It was time to make another weighty decision to have more surgery. This time I wanted the bladder taken out I wanted to start living a life and meet new people make new friends. I wanted to stop pissed my pants every time I had a drink.
 
2015... After months of talks with the surgeon, scans, tests and everything else taken, the time had come and on the 28th August I was booked into The University Hospital of Wales, Cardiff to have a Cystectomy and Ileal Conduit Diversion, meaning bladder out stoma in baby.
Seven and a half hours in surgery I came out of theater with another but smaller strawberry stoma ;-) 
 
My life no longer burdened with shitty pissy pants, my confidence for getting back out there and onto the dating game was on.
This para virgin wanted sex, lol, yep I want SEX, SEX and more SEX!!! Try a bit of this, bit of that, find out a bit of the other lol...
 

I had no idea of how or who was going to be the first to pop this para’s cherry, but I knew it was time to break free from this crippled mould if it was the last thing I did! 😉


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​2016… I was back on the social scene, shopping trips to Cardiff training it not driving it, getting out and about more than ever, so I decided to publish part of my dairy on line.
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I phoned an old friend who came to pick me up for a spin in his Mercedes convertible. It was a beautiful sunny day, so we took a drive down Gower to the King Arthur Hotel for a quick lunch. The place was packed and as we approached a parking spot (grass bank) I noticed a group of bikers sitting out side by the door entrance. There was a free table next to them so as soon as I was in my manual I whizzed over to claim that space.
 
Once my friend and I had ordered enough to graze and slurp on I looked over to the boys and couldn’t see any club patch, so I said Hello and started conversation. They told me who they were, and I mentioned the Welsh Coast Rally and the conversation flowed nicely. On leaving I said I’d see them at the Rally of which I did.
Me and my Sis (not real sister) but Sailor Buddy’s daughter a long-time friend that has been with me for ever, went over to the tent they were selling 81 support gear from and spent most of the night there laughing until my taxi picked us up at 2am.



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May 2016… I sold myself on a few online dating sites, fuk me there are way too many mingers out there. I was on line for about 7/8 weeks and had hundreds of interested offers but nothing was lighting my fire. Then just as I’m about to jack the whole thing in, this rather dishy guy sent me a message…
We got talking on live chat instantly and I thought… ‘Way-hey girl, you’re the pussy who got the cream, bring it on’😉

It wasn’t long before we started seeing each other and he would come down on weekends in the bus he lived in so here I shall call him the ‘Bus Man’.
Bus man and I got on well to start with as we all do. I felt comfortable with him and him with me. We started to meet each other’s friends and family, I even took him to the Welsh Coast winter Rally to meet a lot of biker friends, but by this time something was missing…
 
Intellect, that’s what it was. He had no intellect to click with mine long term. Nothing catching or exciting my brainbox with thoughts or opinions open to debate or conversation… He was a genuinely nice guy but tried pushing the speed button on the relationship to soon.
I need mind stimulation and I need a man not… well… never mind, He was eye candy that’s for sure I got what I was looking for, thanks very much. Now that I’m cognizant with orgasmic sex again and I’m no longer a para virgin, it’s time to move on me thinks lol…

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​October 2016… After working with and having the support of the police for the past 9 yrs and most importantly the constant backing from DC Billingham, a letter arrived with the date of the appeal. We had been fighting with the CICA  since 2007 about their decision to not grant me Criminal Injuries Compensation.
 
On October 4th, 2016 at St Andrews Place, Cardiff we lost the appeal again. It was devastating news, but we kind of knew it was going to be a big fat no. 
It was a long shot, but we tried. 
 
December 2016… I receive a private message on messenger from a guy I didn't know asking if I was the girl in the w.chair at the Welsh coast Rally? I replied with, ‘Yeah, I don’t think there were any other
w.chair cripples there, who are you and why are you asking?’
Apparently he had stood in front of my chair looked me straight in the eyes and said ‘Hello’. I didn’t respond I just wheeled away, lol…

​2017… Me and that mystery messenger are now happily together. I found my man… A para sex virgin that I have Sooo much to teach. How exciting lol... 😉
I am living a happy life after being away from it for so many years. We have packed in so much in such a short time… 



For my birthday in May he bought me a car, and we off drove to watch Skunk Anansie in Bristol, early June we were watching George Ezra in Swansea Guild Hall.

The 16th July 2017 came around marking it a decade of me being legs on wheels. 10 fuking years in a wheelchair with not knowing the how and the why.

A month later in August we were camping at the HA Bulldog Bash just
outside Stratford-upon-Avon, he had even got a double divan bed for us to sleep on in the tent lol


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November 2017… I went along to Llantrisant Leisure Centre to check out the wheelchair rugby team Called Ospreys. I wanted to have a go at wheelchair rugby when I first become paraplegic, but time wasn’t on my side then. 

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​2018… Now I am an Ospreys Team player and took part in the first GBWR 5s Tournament held at Stoke Mandeville on Saturday 5th May with my boys lol. We lost but it didn't matter because we’ll be back to give some serious bashes lol... And I, hopefully will know how to actually play the game, Hahaaa.

​My man could see how much it meant for me to give it a try when we first took a trip to Llantrisant. Now he takes time off work to drive me there every week...

The next challenge I face in 2018 is getting on a plane in for the first time since the accident and fly over to Tuscany for my daughter’s wedding... If that s a doddle I'll be off traveling again!!!...

This August I'll be doing a free fall Skydive to raise money for a customized rugby sports chair... It's the way I roll right now and haven't got time to think about the surgery I've already had this year with more to come... All I know is never give up, turn a problem into a challenge and the challenge in to your goal... Happy Dayzzz... ;-) 


It may have taken me 10 years to feel comfortable in my own skin not only as a paraplegic but a sexually active paraplegic lol ;-) and come through to the other side complete.
​I couldn’t have done it without my precious friends, the ones who did stay by my side throughout my journey of acceptance in all my darkest days. But most of all my beautiful daughter, my rock, my inspiration, my every breath. If I didn't have her to keep in check I'd have no-one xxx 
Blessed Be… For Ever and  A Day…
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I would like to say a Big Thank you to all who have kept with me and followed my dairy, showing support and care through emails and messages. I hope some of you, if not all, have found some inspiration from my own learning to know that life stops when you stop living it, and only takes control again if you take over the reins and go with the ride.
Life is as hard as we make it, and with that we learn the hard way because of this but the rewards are greater than we give ourselves credit for.
I have learnt so much about people, with disappointment and the disillusion created with love, 
hate & anger, and the chances we offer each other for the benefit of our own selfish needs. 
I have learnt more about being misplaced in one’s own mind with lonely mental depression,
 disability & ability, weakness & strength, frustration with anticipation and acceptance with endurance. 
Re-identification, to believe and love myself before others, fortitude & resilience with the strength of mind to carry on while not knowing the outcome.
Life is a strange game that drains you, and if we lose are way we lose the fortuitous reason to win. I was ready and willing to give up and lose it all, but for some reason rising like the phoenix from the ashes I gained the strength to win the fight to live and keep smiling … I hope you can do the same


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June 2nd, 2018

2/6/2018

1 Comment

 
Hi Everyone.

​Thank you so much for staying with me and I'm so sorry to keep you waiting for the final part of my diary. As you all know I haven't been to well for some time but getting better and I hope to post my last blog within the next 5 days. Until that time soak up all the rays the sun has to offer, keep smiling and take it easy but keep it sleazy, life's too short to be boring !!! xXx

❣️👊😂☀️ 
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