Me and disability

This is going to be quite a self indulgent Blogg. I'm using you to help me get oUt what I want to say.I suppose I'd better say something now.
I am disabled.it toOK me years before I could say that.
It all started on my 30th Birthday.I had a brain heammorage,I never know how to spell that. Anyway, as I saying. The police broke into my flat after being alerted by my friends when I hadn't turned up for my Birthday. I know it's a stupid thing to say, but, I thank the lord that it was my birthday. I am a firm believer in the fact that God knows everything.He was really looking out for me that day.
The brain haemorrhage left me in a wheelchair,a right sided weakness,ataxia in my left side,I'm registered blind, with poor speech and a crooked face.it looks worse written down,I don't want to sound depressing.I am quite a happy soul really although I find it difficult to smile.
So,some days later(coma) I woke up in hospital, I had gone from looking after patients(support worker), to being one. I still have a lot to say, my body may not work but my mind does.
I felt like a fully grown toddler, everything I had Learned over the past30years was now no good I had to relearn them all even to stupid things like buttering a slice of bread.
I'm sure you can imagine how frustrating it is. There I go again getting depressive.
The reason I wrote this to remind you we are more than just wheelchairs. And just because someone looks a bit odd they may be just as worried about you as you are of them.
I have started to go twice a month to a small group which is doing wonders for my confidence, I would recommend it to anyone

Weekend

I wrote a lush blog last night. Then, I lost it, so it's somewhere floating around in cyber space.
I digress, about this weekend. We held a church meeting. Wow, I hear you say.
We had Pauline and Adrian Hawkes and their family, from London. Justin (speaker) and his family from Wales.
They had come for a Friday night barbecue and being Great Britain, it rained. So in the end we had about 70 odd people in our house. You can imagine the noise.
Me being the only one in the wheelchair, I got my fair share of pats on the head and "aw isn't she cute" from the older people. I'll let Paula get into the nitty gritty of the weekend in her blog.I know I sound like a right stick in the mud, I dont mean to. A good weekend was had by all. Yes, I did say weekend because we had to do all again on the Saturday with even more people luckily it wasn't raining.
Despite this the weekend inspired me and set me up for the week ahead.WELL DONE.

Speaking

I chose to write aboutvthis because it is the most frustrating. I used to be well known for my little quips, for giving as good as I got. Something me and my Dad got off to perfection. The trouble is I still think the same, but now my clever response comes outveiyhervto loud or to slow and completely uniintelligable.
People get only nerves when they obviously haven't understood me. People just don't spend the time to listen anymore, like when I get stuck on one word. I can picture it, I know what it is, I just can't get it out Of my mouth, people used to guess the word until they got it now they justcwalk away, I find this infuriating because I do have interesting things to say (I think)my extra sensitive sense of Parma doesn't help, put it this way, instead of pushing myself forward and making people listen, that isn't easy when I have finished my one-liner,they have moved onto anothervsubject. I would rather sit in silence, part of my apron I guess. I only speak now when it's absolutely necessary, I knowvthe days are gone of my quick one-liners, it's just waitingbfor my brain to catch up.I suppose my paranoia is the reaso I have written this, thinking it's the only way I'll be understood.
I keep on saying "I don't care how many times I've got to repeat myself before I'm understood,"but over this last year I have noticed that I do mind, this I know is my own impatience,if I want to be understood, I've got to get more patience. My worst fear is being seen by a bunch of kids who I can not explain what has happened to me.
I get sick of people presuming that because I speakbslowly I must be slow in the head. I'm not!