arista
14-01-2024, 04:11 PM
This is really sad news.
Hard-working political reporter.
[It was a beautiful day for a summer cycle
through East Lothian. The sort of day where
nothing could go wrong.
Until it did.
I was moving fast down a steep hill
heading towards the village of Gifford for
breakfast when I took a tumble.
The road surface was broken and I clipped a
rough edge and skidded.
There was a split second of clarity. I could see exactly
what was about to happen and that I
was powerless to prevent it.
The bike went one way and I went the other.
I fell hard, bounced, and rolled across
the tarmac. I came to a halt face down
on the road, too injured to move to safety.
I knew the biggest danger I faced was being
run over. I kept thinking:
"If the next vehicle comes down the hill,
the driver will struggle to see me and
I will be a goner."
I was lucky. The first car on the
scene came up the hill.
The former police officer behind the wheel
did spot me, stopped the traffic
and called an ambulance.
I owe him and the others who came to my
aid my sincere thanks.]
It was not painful but I felt a strong
burning sensation. I could not walk
or talk coherently.
It was as if I was drunk, although I
had not had a drop of alcohol.
Involuntarily, I bit down hard on my tongue
and started bleeding from my mouth.
At first my wife, Claire,
thought I was having a stroke.
It turned out I was having an
epileptic fit or seizure.
I had substantially recovered by the time
the paramedics arrived and was making
jokes as they bundled me off
to hospital for checks.]
[Within a couple of days an MRI scan
revealed a tumour on the
right hand side of my brain.
It was pressing on the part that controls
movement on the left hand side of my body.
Tumours always seem to be compared
in size to pieces of fruit.
It is not uncommon to hear about
someone having a tumour as big as a peach.
Mine was much smaller. Perhaps more akin
to a large grape - but no less devastating
for what it represents.]
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-67925522
Hard-working political reporter.
[It was a beautiful day for a summer cycle
through East Lothian. The sort of day where
nothing could go wrong.
Until it did.
I was moving fast down a steep hill
heading towards the village of Gifford for
breakfast when I took a tumble.
The road surface was broken and I clipped a
rough edge and skidded.
There was a split second of clarity. I could see exactly
what was about to happen and that I
was powerless to prevent it.
The bike went one way and I went the other.
I fell hard, bounced, and rolled across
the tarmac. I came to a halt face down
on the road, too injured to move to safety.
I knew the biggest danger I faced was being
run over. I kept thinking:
"If the next vehicle comes down the hill,
the driver will struggle to see me and
I will be a goner."
I was lucky. The first car on the
scene came up the hill.
The former police officer behind the wheel
did spot me, stopped the traffic
and called an ambulance.
I owe him and the others who came to my
aid my sincere thanks.]
It was not painful but I felt a strong
burning sensation. I could not walk
or talk coherently.
It was as if I was drunk, although I
had not had a drop of alcohol.
Involuntarily, I bit down hard on my tongue
and started bleeding from my mouth.
At first my wife, Claire,
thought I was having a stroke.
It turned out I was having an
epileptic fit or seizure.
I had substantially recovered by the time
the paramedics arrived and was making
jokes as they bundled me off
to hospital for checks.]
[Within a couple of days an MRI scan
revealed a tumour on the
right hand side of my brain.
It was pressing on the part that controls
movement on the left hand side of my body.
Tumours always seem to be compared
in size to pieces of fruit.
It is not uncommon to hear about
someone having a tumour as big as a peach.
Mine was much smaller. Perhaps more akin
to a large grape - but no less devastating
for what it represents.]
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-67925522