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  1. My doctor calls me weird, the wife, well we don't discuss it, it's accepted that I don't tell her things like that.
    The point is that I am medically weird, I have really weird dreams and deja vue quite frequently! (I'm sure I've written about this before!)
    I could blame the extra insulin that I produce but I've dreamt in Technicolor all my life, maybe I've had night hypos all my life, but it maybe I'm wired different! I support a footie team that frequently loses, i am a trekkie, don't need to be ridiculed, thank you very much.
    I dream a lot of walking, grey legs, just legs and dusty feet in front of me, step by step, nothing else! Plenty of grey legs in rhythm, in step. Black boots and bare feet, nothing happens but walking. It's hot and I know I'm sweating! I wake up, really tired and aching heavy legs, the only way to get them feeling better is to...............walk! Ive had this more or less same dream for what seems forever, frequently! Weird.
    On the odd occasion, I dream of country lanes and if I'm not busy I draw them to remember, the fields and fences, hedgerows. How the paths (not roads) go one way then the other, I see wooden buildings probably farmhouses.

    I'm Going to retell my first ever dream that I have remembered all my life. It is so memorable and has stayed in my memory for its vivid story and the consequences.
    This dream happened when I was a nipper, aged about 7, and I was then sleeping in a double bed with my brother.

    I was walking in a tunnel, I had a greyish, khaki jacket on, I was an adult, I was trying to find my way through a dark passage, there was screams and shouting. I felt my way along a dirty dank wall., light showed in patches of rays and the air was choking, heavy and hot.
    I couldn't catch my breath. I was struggling to find my way. A large wooden door was in my way, I pushed as hard as I could, it wouldn't open. I looked around, couldn't see nothing. Suddenly all hell broke loose, I was knocked sideways against the wall and felt a sharp pain just under my right shoulder blade. The pain was excruciating. The dusty smelly floor came up and hit me in the face.
    I couldn't move, my whole body was twitching, kicking, shaking.
    I woke up screaming, I was on the floor, I was jerking my body up trying to get up, my eyes opened, seeing my mother trying to wake me, I was in great pain, by back was burning with a sharp pain, I was sweating and I was still screaming, crying and jerking.
    My mother shouted my name, trying to understand what was happening, I can still see that look now!
    I stopped crying, my mother was saying soothing words, I gripped my mother in a bear hug, and I squeezed, my back was aflame!
    My head was splitting, my vision was blurred and flashes and lightening in my vision, my first major migraine, even though I didnt know, then what it was! She moved away saying that I was on fire, indeed my pyjamas were soaking, my clothes were wet with sweat, at first she thought I'd wet the bed, she asked me what was going on, my brother said it was a nightmare, and I had kicked him out of bed.
    My mother then said it must be a fever but the pain, I cried and whimpered, pointing at my back, my mum shouted for my dad, and she gasped and put her hand to her face in shock and horror. My god, she said, look at that!
    My father had a look and he asked how I had got the huge bruise under my shoulder, my mum felt my brow and the verdict was that I had a temperature, a fever and I wouldn't be going to school, she looked at my chest, looked at my legs, and there was bruises everywhere. I couldn't stop crying. A cold cloth flannel was slapped on my head, I was still in pain.
    I was off school for 4 days until the pain and my migraine subsided quite a lot. I did tell my parents the dream but they dismissed it as just a dream. My brother wouldn't sleep with me for a while.
    I've no idea, what the dream signified or why I had that dream, I saw the doctor, he gave me a sedative to make me sleep the next night. I fell asleep for hours longer than was normal for me. I think I slept a whole day through.
    The bruise covered one half of my back, on the right hand side, the doctor just shook his head, maybe when I fell out of bed, but the bruise was blacker and more vivid near the centre. I still get an itch centered on the same spot. No scratching will make it go.
    I have had similar occurrences in my dreams, I don't sleep walk but I have found myself on the floor many a time after a vivid dream.

    More really weird dreams of mine, with different outcomes, will surprise and make you think twice about what happens.

    Can't make you believe it, but every word is true and it really happened, I've tried to get an understanding but nothing at all comes to mind.

    I'm just weird!
  2. 1969.

    A really momentous year in my life!
    Was it really that long ago that a teenage boy, watched live on a small black and white television, Neil Armstrong in the module Eagle, landing on the moon?
    Was that momentous?
    One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind!
    Well yeah that was great, but, not momentous in my life, it was the television!
    I was always a dreamer, always reading adventure books and wishing I could be exploring somewhere.
    It was the year my parents could afford a television. A black and white redifusion set,, the screen no bigger than 12inch!
    This was brilliant for me, it opened up the world to me, watching (at home) the Footie, (of course) and all the best shows of the day. I loved grandstand with the teleprinter giving the results. My dad could watch live horse racing. My mum watched the entertainment shows.(yuk!)
    I liked comedy and the cop shows like z cars, but what programme really took me to places I would never even dream of going, was the mind blowing hour long weekly series about a spaceship called Enterprise.
    This was adventure with a capital wow! For an hour every week I would fly around the galaxy in a spaceship and be involved with different aliens fighting the good fight against the baddies in space
    The hum drum life of an grammar school oppressed teenager and the poverty of the struggle of everyday life, not knowing wether the cold war would unleash Armageddon!
    I would battle Romulans, Klingons and the baddies alongside Captain Kirk and Spock, Bones and the rest of the crew.
    The effect on my imagination was immense and I wanted more and more. I was insatiable.
    You couldn't see much from the cramped buildings, not much sky and little light could get past. The only open spaces were near the river. I would spend many an evening (not when star trek was on) in the warm weather just gazing up at the stars. I would scan the heavens for baddies and try and work out which if there was any planets or anything my imagination took me to!
    I now live with my back garden facing west and have great views of the heavens and on clear nights it's brilliant! My grandson would bring his telescope and he has an app on his pad and we find the stars and galaxies and watch planets. We have seen the space station go past!

    The thought of being so small in our galaxy, never mind the whole universe is just mind blowing. I have never got my head around how small and relatively unimportant we are. It makes me wonder about religion, our part in the scheme of things? what is out there? Are we really alone? You know the usual questions!!

    Why Star Trek?

    Well, it's the idea!
    The idea a great storyteller had. (Gene Roddenberry) That humanity has a worthwhile future. Especially if we can get it right. If we don't cause Armageddon, if we realise that the planet is for everyone to share. Not just for the power brokers! It can provide all our needs for all of us. If we are not alone in this galaxy of ours, and if we can grow together as a whole planet. How do we cope with a populous galaxy, the maths dictate that there must be more life somewhere in our galaxy. They would be completely different to us! How would we react, to not only our own varied species but alien species as well?

    Infinite diversity in infinite combinations.

    What does this actually mean?
    My explanation and experience is simply, tolerance!

    We can't judge any living beings by his/her race, beliefs, colour, where he/she is from, what he/she does, or what he/she can't do, rich, poor, tall short.
    We have to accept beings as part of the whole without exception! No discrimination in any way, shape or form. Respect them for what they are!
    I have always believed this. Wether being brought up in poverty has done this I'm not sure. I know that it probably has a bearing.
    Jealously, greed and ownership, power and religion, play such a huge part in our current political divisions, within our own species! We have to somehow get away from our inward looking views. We as a society have to progress to survive, we have to live with each other don't we?
    One of the many messages commonly portrayed by the series, is that it's not about, securing wealth or property or profit.
    But to improve ourselves without gain, within our species. To educate and feed and have health rights as a right not because a politician allows it! To have the best that can be provided for all not just the selected few.
    We work for the collective good and have access to everything without redress.
    To have an elected government for all the planet. That is responsible to the people and for all the people.
    That there is a peaceful future well worth fighting for. For our kids and grandkids and our great grandkids. That we have hope and not live in fear.

    That's the heavy stuff over!

    It could have been the space stuff, the adventure, the hero winning every week against the baddies, the science stuff! (The influence on our everyday things. Tech stuff, most of it was first seen In Star Trek in the sixties) The spaceships, the aliens or even the great storylines. It wasn't the props or scenery was it? Or could it have been the mini skirts? I don't know, I just loved it all!
    And I still watch it not religiously, but the wife says I know all the lines that certain characters say! I can't help it!

    I'm a trekkie! And I'm proud to say it!

    Live long and prosper.
  3. This week was my bus pass birthday. I have reached the grand old age of sixty!!!!!!
    How do I feel?
    I'm really good, life and health is not bad at all! The wife is going through it at the moment and there is always something that needs attention, life goes on!
    The wife did her best, bless her! She partied and joined in as best as she could even in pain and discomfort. The grandkids made her smile! She wasn't going to miss my special day.
    My children and my grandchildren spoilt me rotten, I'm so lucky to have such a loving family.
    We had a big family get together, we had an Indian. It was bloody wonderful. It was a great feast. Plenty to drink as well.
    I had my usual meat and salad, with a covering of curry sauce, a poppadum with a touch of mango chutney onions and of course an onion bahjee.
    Wasn't I a good boy?
    However the daughter had bought a special cake, chocolate fudge!
    Guilty mlud! One spoonful with some yoghurt, full fat of course. Well you just have to don't you? It would be wrong to refuse

    The big meal ended with my cake(s). Blowing the candles etc and of course singing happy birthday (badly).

    I had loads of pressies, too many, they are far too generous. But I do like being spoilt!
    They say I deserve it! I'm not to sure! I'm only trying my best! And failing!
    I just want them to be happy and look after themselves properly, as would any decent parent. I have always wanted to set an example, I do believe that has rubbed off onto them.

    However, my kids had made a huge mistake as my beautiful princess granddaughter (all dressed up in a princess dress from Frozen) enquired where the party bags where?
    She was right, the cake and some hastily gathered sweets should be placed in a bag. For everyone to take home. She had a choice of small clear bags or some scented pink ones or the black doggie bags. She chose the pink ones, rather appropriate as it went with the colour of her dress. I believe they were doggie bags as well, but that didn't matter!
    So they packed the cake to my granddaughters approval.
    Meanwhile playing balloons with the boys was really a great laugh, 3 & 4 & 5 year olds and balloons make great fun.
    I am so grateful to my lot for doing this for me.
    The house was decorated with style (yeah!) Banners and balloons and glitter. With disco lights and Northern soul and Motown playing softly in the background. They know me so well!
    The night ended beautifully for me. One of my best days.

    With my footie team ( local amateur u14s) winning in the afternoon winning as well and another cake, cards, cup and pressies as well.

    What more can an old fart, (one of my footie kids wrote that)! Or an oap? I'm freaking ancient on one card.!
    according to another I'm an old git. Did I witness the flood? The birth of Christ? Was I a war baby? And so on and on!!!
    What could I Wish for that's better?

    I am so lucky.
  4. Well yes, medically, probably because I support a footie club that doesn't like winning!
    Also run a junior football team.

    I also have really weird dreams.
    I also have weird things like deja vu!

    But I'd like to tell you about an experience I had about 9 years ago.
    It was my mother's birthday yesterday, she would have been 93. She passed away nearly 10 years ago.

    I had been on hospital watch with her for about ten days, when she slipped peacefully away.
    At the time she was In a coma from a stroke and my brother was on holiday, my other brothers couldn't get time off to help. I was left to be her sitter.
    The day that my brother returned from his holiday abroad, he spent ten minutes with his mother before the doctor gave his prognosis. They went for a drink, and my mother passed.
    Was she waiting for a final farewell?

    Anyway, the wife decided that after the funeral, I definitely needed a break, so she booked a week away in the Lake District.
    We stayed in a beautiful cottage close to Keswick. I just love the area around the Lake. I love walking.

    The first morning after, it was a lovely autumn morning. You could see for miles, with wispy clouds for company. I packed a rucksack and put my fell walking boots and gear on and set off. I just walked and walked, not really caring what direction I took.
    I took a detour through a small village and followed a tributary of water, crossed a bridge over the frothing fast running water.
    The footpath followed the stream and climbed steadily towards a hill, then onto the near mountain. I followed the path, the water continued towards me. The track was becoming harder to follow as the foliage and the undergrowth got thicker. The nearness of the two hills were enclosing as the going got tougher. After about another half mile, I was just about to turn around and I noticed that the path was widening and a rather pretty isolated area came into view, there was a weir where two tributaries ran into each other, there was a bench, so I decided to sit a while, grab some nosh and a drink.
    I relaxed into the setting. Beautiful. Just the rippling of the fast running water, flowing over the weir. The softest splash, sprinkling in the surf. Really peaceful.

    I relaxed as the sun broke through, forgetting recent past events and as the sun shined on me, the tension flowed out of my body.
    I smiled a knowing smile, the serenity, the quiet, the stillness, this was a place from the madness of everyday life.
    I realised that I was having a perfect moment in time, as my senses became aware, they slowed as i collected all the awareness of everything that surrounded me, the calming awareness lulled me Into a knowing of acceptance that what I was witnessing was a gift that was helping me just when I needed it. I smiled then, I realised that a pain had receded from my heart.
    An acceptance of life, it had to go on. To get my life back on track. To think of others and to help them. To stop mourning. To look forward, I had a family to support, who were looking to me for support.

    I thought of my friends and family whom I missed and I started crying, not In sadness, but for the joy they gave me and what I would miss. The tears flowed, I was glad I was alone. I let them go, I smiled, I cried more, the relief was uplifting. I relaxed into a sleep. My heart was heavy no more. My brain was released to think of other matters, my love for my family grew.

    I heard a noise that awakened my reverie. I had no tissues, so I had to wipe my tears on my coat sleeve. I smiled as the sun still shined down on me. I picked up my backpack, wondering how to get back. I looked at my watch, it was 3pm gone. Where had the time gone? How long had I sat there? I never did eat, I drank my water as I walked, I felt one stone lighter.
    But I didn't care, I had a smile on my face and ready to get back to this mad world of ours.

    After each of my two brothers had passed, I went back for a visit to find this beautiful place I had found to help me again. I couldn't find it, I asked the locals, no idea was the reply.

    Just remembering the moment helped me find the courage to personally grieve for my brothers and give me the strength to fight and live my life.

    Was this place real or did I fall asleep and dream it? I don't really care, it is something that was very personal and helped me tremendously. Does anyone else have these moments?

    Or am I really weird, like I said?
  5. I thought that I would this time write about my love affair with football.

    Football now is my only sin. Football and family and hard work is my only constants.

    As it is with my family, I have loved football. It is an educational journey that started in the streets, kicking anything or having a game of footie between two lampposts. Or as the comedy sketch says, 'jumpers for goalposts'. The nearest park to play on grass was over a mile away and playing in the playground with a tennis ball in primary school was the nearest to the real thing.

    The first taste of real footie in primary school was a cup game against another primary school over ten miles away and we went on a corporation bus all full of '**** and vinegar' of how many we were going to beat them by. As this was our only game in primary it wasn't the best as we just didn't know how to deal with real footie. We lost, but only by the odd goal, 2-1, the second an own goal by yours truly. It was my first, but as so often you start something that just continued through my whole career.
    We had shown that we could play, despite our teacher having no interest in the game. We were kitted out in what you could describe as a rugby style jumper that weighed a ton when wet and itchy and it must have been new in the 19th century! The shorts and socks were our own, all different colours, I can't remember the boots, but we looked a sight, but we didn't care, we were actually playing! Despite the result!

    Since a toddler, I was taken to my local footie pitches, and even attended some of then New Brighton's games. They played at the Tower grounds, and they played in red, the same as Arsenal. I remember a lot but not the footie as the ground was massive and you could get lost while the footie was on. It had a cycle track to a modern velodrome but of concrete around the football pitch. It is no longer around as it was demolished and houses are built there. New Brighton are now a team very low in the local leagues.

    I watched the world cup final in '66 at a holiday camp in Morcambe, on an old black and white television, no bigger than ten inches square.
    My family didn't own a Tele, till '69. There was a family who had one down our street, (they were the posh ones) where the men watched the then fa cup finals because first Everton in '63, then the reds in '65, then the blues again in '66, won. Brought great joy around our .way. And many beers and bottles were celebrated for the occasions.

    It was in 1968, I had my first experience of top live professional footie, as a birthday present, I was taken to Goodison park by my dad to witness an FA cup tie between Everton v Tranmere. The Things I remember are the smoke, the cold, the noise, the singing and the crowd. I couldn't believe the amount of people crammed into that ground. There was somewhere around 50,000 people in attendance. I didn't know that there was so many people in the world! I was so excited and happy. Everton won 2-0, but Rovers gave a good account of themselves. The star, then was Alex Young, a great forward for the blues.
    I have good memories of a long bus ride, but I couldn't remember going through the Mersey tunnel.

    The next few years were spent trying to emulate my football heroes, especially Alan Ball, I would to say that this type of player is exceptional gifted rare commodity in football, as it was in the sixties, after winning the world cup, players like Alan were the reason we won the world cup with the likes of the greats, Bobby Moore, Bobby Charlton Gordon Banks. I don't believe that England will ever get a group of players of such good quality again! If Jimmy Greaves couldn't get in the team, then we must have been very good.
    Alan played the game in the right spirit, he played every game the same, he covered every blade of grass every game, a model professional and a gentleman. I did meet him once, I couldn't sleep for two days after! I congratulated hi m in person on the pitch when Everton won the league in '70. Yes, I did, I ran on the pitch after the game, but so did everyone else!

    I was always torn between Playing or going to watch through my teen years, if I could get enough pocket money, I would either go to Prenton park on a Friday night or Goodison on a Saturday but not if I was playing.
    I found myself playing for a different team each season as I met new fellow players and I think I moved on with my game as I grew older. We didn't train then only games in the park (over a mile away) during better weather days and longer evenings. My first goal in the right end! Was a one-off free kick than kept going for about 40 yards and found the bottom corner. I aimed for it, honest!!
    I passed my 11+ plus exam, which my three elder brothers had also. My mum was really pleased except the grammar school I went to wasn't the same as my brothers and couldn't use hand me downs, so,all my uniform was brand new except for my PE and sports kit. Except my house shirt, which was yellow with white collar. As you will probably know if you were around, grammar schools didn't play football. It was rugby union. I dabbled but I just didn't like it! Cricket in the summer, which I was in the school team but rugby no way!
    So I had to get my footie fix, at the weekends or in the park during the summer evenings.
    I never did get to a final in my school days, came 2nd in the league once, but just played for the love of it, typical amateur.
    I was never till later years a supporter of a particular club, though I favoured the blues because of my boyhood hero, but I also watched the reds at times and also the whites when I could.
    It was old school footie spectating. Standing on the terraces, getting in amongst the best areas for singing and atmosphere.
    They should bring back safe standing at all grounds, so you have the choice.
    The disasters at Glasgow, Bradford, Heysal and Hillsborough later on brought the end of old stadia. And the health and safety aspects of watching sports especially football is a political nightmare. I still believe that away support in certain places are treated worse than cattle going to slaughter.
    This is a different story to the organised hooliganism that has infiltrated modern football, it is a tribal thing and these thugs and criminals use and abuse football to create 'aggro'! Every club within football has its own idiots and criminals. The police are now very organised towards this type of activity and they try and keep it away from the grounds as much as possible. This is why you don't hear much about it now. It is still there.
    I hate this sort of thing that affects how you watch your football. 99% of footie support is genuine and only go to watch the game and enjoy a day out wether there team wins or loses
    . It is about supporting your club!

    Into my late teens and I played for a very good youth team. We came second the year we were u19, and then they changed it to u18 the following season. So we didn't have a chance at winning the league. But that season ended harshly for me. We got to the cup final and we played at the Tower ground. (The last youth final played there).The team that won the league we played, but I was dropped for that game. I had only been dropped twice that season. In those days, no subs, no medals other than the eleven that play. To say I was gutted was a understatement. I cried! My dad was not happy, my brothers and me stopped him from causing problems. That's one day I'll never forget. I didn't realize its would help me in later life. In my coaching and explaining the reasons for things to players. We lost 1_0. My mates were good to me. But what could they do?
    By now I had left school and my playing days were now open age against men. I found it difficult because it was a test of strength and skill, most of all I found it a battle but played mainly in the right spirit. It was hard but enjoyable. I played in the West Cheshire league which was a good standard. I played occasionally in the local Sunday league, but won nothing. Trophies avoided me!

    My actual football career lasted to my mid twenties, when for a number of reasons, mainly injury and married life, where the reasons for retiring, I played occasionally but not seriously. My injuries were ankle and the bones in the side of my foot. Because of the pitches mainly. Too hard and then too soft. I really didn't miss playing, once I stopped and I could always watch it on the tele. I didn't go to any of the local teams then, I believe the country had fallen out of love with the game. In the 80s, football was in a trough of dwindling support and couldn't get out it until the premiership came along.
    Liverpool were dominant and English clubs were banned from Europe and they couldn't attract the top players. The football was poor as the 'English tactics and Wimbledon style' football was in fashion. Dreadful!

    As my family grew, my son's wanted to play, so the eldest started first and and played junior football. He ended up by becoming a goalkeeper. My youngest was born with a ball at his feet, literally! He was so skilful, still is, but his health held him back.. He passed his trials at a pro club, but once his chronic asthma kicked off, they couldn't keep him on. We were disappointed, but we still treat him like a pro. He plays 5-a-side with his mates every week, his mates can't touch him.
    When my kids were just into there teens, I started taking them to our local club, Tranmere Rovers. On a Friday night. That was the nineties and Rovers were then is now referred to the Championship. I sat them on the barrier, and watched Rovers. My three lads over the next few years became ball boys and were often on the tele seen behind the goals. I'm not sure, but it was around that time I started running the ballboys. My lads played footie for the youth club where they pick them from. all my kids were always at the youth club. I was made up to do that. The chap who was running it then, asked me to help him, and I became great friends with him and we with the kids travelled the country following Rovers. Some great times. I will probably tell of my travels in another blog as there is many great stories.
    So my real connection to a professional football club started.
    Within a couple of years, my coaching days started for the same youth club.
    Well, as a lot of coaches started in them days, it was dumped on me. It was my eldest lads team. Their manager fell out with the youth club and walked out leaving me to run the team. You didn't need coaching badges or CRBs, anything like that.
    We did alright the first season, and the second season we got to a cup final and lost 2-0. Sound familiar?
    We went into the Sunday league, at the bottom and after three years, we climbed to the next to top premier division. We never finished league winners but got promoted.
    We added in the first season a couple of older lads to balance the youth of the team. This worked well and I learnt a lot about youth and kids footie and I got my first coaching badge.

    I then got to help with my youngest's team. Then were looking for a co manager, as the then manager was working weekends. Having my son who couldn't play most of the game, I learnt about the use of subs. I was with them for two years. He really couldn't play youth football, it was too much for him.

    I was then about to retire from junior footie but the youth club was looking for an assistant manager. To help with a group of under 8s, to coach as the then dad/coach/manager was struggling to keep a standard of coaching to progress them.
    I stayed with the team for 7-8 seasons. We progressed every season from u11s, finished 3rd bottom b division. To u16s finished 2nd top a division. I was proud of that team and one of the lads is now semi pro northern premier.
    A few had trials with clubs.
    Again I was going to retire but fate gave me another team, this one u14s, I was persuaded to help but really I wasn't needed. They were just too old to teach the basics and the manager wasn't for changing his tactics or his team. All I did was express my views and watched. Another cry of help from two young coaches at the youth club was answered. It was the team my grandson plays for. At the time u12s, so I took a couple of coaching sessions. And two years later, I run the team with the manager and he struggles to get to games through work. Once again, the lads have improved year after year and I'm hoping for a trophy at last. Though it won't change my outlook to football. I'm in it for the reward of seeing kids enjoy their footie. If I wanted glory, I could have gone to a club that has the nerve to almost guarantee trophies. That's not me!
    Already local pro clubs have been sniffing around my players.

    Hopefully my coaching will come to an end in a couple of years when my grandson reaches youth level. But you never know!!

    My Ballboy supervisors job is currently, so I'm told, in its nineteenth season (ish). I have seen managers come and go. I have seen my local club go from near premiership promotion to nearly going out of the league, though I hope we don't!
    It is an honour and a privilege to be involved in the beautiful game. I have met some interesting characters and most lower league players are just like you and me. It is their livelihoods and they don't have a long career, but, most of them are probably earning not much more than the average worker. Not like the top pros in the premiership!
    There is far too much greed in the premiership, the share (ha!) Is nowhere near creating a fair competition, it's about the billions of pounds that can be spent on players. Their is a concerted effort by the unions as the top clubs are still paying there non playing staff minimum wage. Go figure????
    I'm getting off my soap box now. I can only afford a few away games now, but, I have only missed two home games in over twenty years. Football is my only sin, but I love being a part of it. And I'm proud of what I've done, and achieved with the kids.

    Andy Gray co commenting on a Rovers game many years ago, called my ball boys, the best trained ball boys in the football league. Chuffed or what??

    My claim to fame, is, I have been on soccer am in March 2001, we had a great weekend except for the result against the reds in the fa cup! That was when the programme was fresh and enjoyable.

    Yours, in football,

  6. My journey started about 15 years ago, I felt dizzy, sweating, unsteady and disoriented. This was at work. I was sent to the surgery, I was told to lie down and given water, I had my BP taken. My pulse and a few readings like temperature. My BP was high and a doctor's appointment was made for me that evening. (How things have changed).
    I saw my GP who asked a lot of questions. My lifestyle etc.
    He told me that I would have to look after myself better,, improve my diet. You know the usual things, drink less and of course give up smoking. Things didn't improve much but on May 1st 2001, I was given meds that helped me stop smoking. And I haven't had one since. It didn't improve my health, nor was the improved diet that was recommended by my nurse at the surgery. I steadily, slowly put on weight, I reduced my alcohol intake, but I was a social drinker, mainly around sports. And only a couple at a time, as after 3 pints, I was anybody's and I always had bad hangovers as well.(I gave up totally, a couple of years later).
    Believing that the dietary advice I was given, and that it wasn't working, I was willing to try anything that helped me controlling my weight. But nothing did. Nothing helped the gradual weight gain.
    I used to on average walk about 10 miles a day. Also my children were demanding my time then. I also did shiftwork.
    Which I didn't mind but must have sent my body haywire with my sleep patterns, I slept well though as always not enough, when you have a big family.
    I didn't ignore my weight gain or have any major symptoms, I was too busy to notice any gradual changes in my body, my metabolism didn't tell me, as far as I was aware I was getting old and my age was creeping up on me. I was still trying different diets and still nothing worked.
    It all began again in late 2008. I was at home and off work because it was a weekend.
    I was all consumed with thirst, drinking too much, peeing too much, all the classic diabetic symptoms. On the Monday morning, I got another emergency appointment, to my new named GP. She took the usual BP, temperature, pulse etc. Then she went for a testing kit, she finger tested my blood glucose level. It was 30.3.
    She tried again and it was 29.5mmols.
    She told me I had diabetes and gave me a prescription for metformin, aspirin and a drug to help with hypertension.
    All these tablets were changed within a month because they really had me in so much discomfort, all too slow release and coated for enteric reasons. I was told at that time to cut out sugar, never had much anyway, start eating more fruit and veg, eat good carbs.
    Had my bloods for hba1c done and they were 7.8. Which the GP told me that he was surprised at the level. I did get some control, I cut down again on my eating and bought a dog, so I could walk more as I was going through retirement. I was sent on a course where I was told to eat more complex carbs and eat more fruit and veg. I told them that I already tried every diet that they had recommended and it hadn't done me any good.

    I thought that because the symptoms had gone and my usual day to day living had come back and I thought that the meds must be making me feel better that I never got an awareness that my diabetes was anything but ok. What I had been considering that even though I tested I really didn't know what was going on.

    In October 2009 , I had my yearly check, which the GP was really happy. 3rd named doctor, It was in the period when I started saying to the docs that I felt something was not quite right. My weight by now was approaching. 17 stone.
    He did other bloods and my cholesterol, BP, liver function, kidney function was high but my fasting bloods was high.
    Off for scans and a trial with statins. Reduced metformin. Found I had a fatty liver. Lipids, cholesterol high gaining weight slowly but surely. Diabetes fine. Done all the courses, the diets, the symptoms increasing. The doctors saying that it's my diabetes and the other problems that I have already said.
    Because of the frustration of the growing sensation that something else was going on. The more time I spent looking for reasons why I was light headed, dizzy and not the level headed guy that I know I am. The anger, the frustration, kept me wondering.
    I was put on sleeping tablets because of the lack of sleep. I wasn't getting restful sleep. I was getting to sleep but I couldn't stay asleep. Really weird dreams. I would be absolutely knackered and wide awake. I asked a locum if something other than the diabetes was causing the sleep disorder. He told me losing weight would help! When I informed him that I have been on a diet for nearly ten years, he said eat less!
    I stayed on them tablets for a year, they helped a little, but it was something else entirely that changed my life.
    I was always acclimated to cold weather and I was always warm, I never thought that it was my body telling me that a reason I was warm and feeling more dreadful every day was I was intolerant to sugar, I searched the internet for T2 diabetes symptoms. I realised that mine were more extreme but within diabetic diagnosis. I was losing my confidence, I was losing my will to do everyday things, I was at that point starting to do more for the wife, shopping, cleaning, washing, the household chores, we were going through a period when the wife was more important than myself. I carried on regardless.
    The outcome of this period is somewhat vague and a lot happened which is blurred and I believe I was quite ill.
    The symptoms increased, the eye blurriness, the horrible symptoms of having hot flushes, the constant headache, the lack of energy, the ever growing hunger, the sleep deprivation, the anxiety, a lot of stress, the lightheadedness, fatigue, wanting to sit down and eat and eat, the lethargy, anger and anything would kick me off. I was down and struggling. And the dreams!
    . Was I beaten? Well, yes, I'd had enough and I couldn't fathom out what was happening. Not by then did I care. My weight was 16st 8lbs

    In 2012 October
    My chance appointment with my doctor, because something was wrong with my prescription, changed things.
    I had porridge in the morning, made with water, as recommended by the diet I was on!

    I walked to the surgery, a couple of miles walk! I was hot from the exercise! Took my coat off and waited.
    I sat down with my GP and wondered what the problem was with my meds. She looked at me, yes another change of named doctor,
    and kept looking at me, she asked whether I was warm, then said I looked unwell, she went out and got a testing kit.
    I was having a hypo. 2.4 mmols. She asked if I knew about having hypos. No! Do I get this symptom, that symptom, yes!
    Well, she finally said, I don't know why, but I'm going to refer you to see a specialist. Because this is not right, stop all meds except the aspirin cos my BP was high. She took every conceivable test, and another blood glucose test. I had recovered to 7.2 because she had given me a couple of glucose tablets. Everything was high, an appointment for more bloods. Another docs appointment for a couple of weeks later.
    I went home and felt worse. I took my levels randomly, I found that I couldn't get a normal level, but I did notice I was going into hypo after eating. I was still eating a lot of carbs. Because of the diet. And I still thought that I was eating right and this was a form of diabetes???
    Until my hospital appointment, I lived under a cloud, I was, I believe, getting depression, all the symptoms were wearing me down, my monetary problems were getting worse, the wife being disabled and diagnosed T2 around the same time.
    It was just one thing after another. My GP didn't know what to do. She didn't have a clue.
    My appointment arrived, I was apprehensive, because what could he do. My life was hell, I tried everything to get better, the more I tried the worse it got. My weight was 16st 10lbs
    He was understanding, and getting an idea, I was sent for bloods and another appointment in a month, he brought in a dietician, and we went to her office.
    She asked what my diet was and then, exercise, job, etc.
    She gave me a food diary and a blood glucose record sheet. She then asked if I had heard of the diabetes website.
    Of course, why would I have? She told me that a low carb diet is what my consultant recommended and this was the site to look at, for recipes and information. She gave me a low Gi food booklet and advised me to only eat low gi foods.
    I took it home and the rest of the information, the next available morning, I logged into the diabetes site, it wasn't this one, and there was nothing new on that site, and nothing on low carb, then I googled again.
    This site came up and I followed the trail of information and silently began to cruise around the info, for every answer, there was a question. I found out about hypos and how diabetics get them. I read info about T2s. I read about a low carb diet. I read about the extra sugars in food. I read about fats. I read about controlling your blood glucose levels. How to check them and when to do it.
    The success stories and the weight loss that diabetics were achieving on this ridiculous idea of a change of lifestyle, to not eat carbs and e a t more fats, that I had tried so hard to avoid. To make choices that didn't involve eating starchy, car by, sugary food. I found out that it was these things had become the reason why I could not lose weight. And the reason why I was feeling so awful.
    I learnt that by eating low carb I could control my diabetes.
    The next month, I started to eat low carb as much as possible. Within a few days, I was already feeling better. However when I tested my levels were low and my fasting levels were norm, it couldn't be that the change had already worked.
    I tested and tested and tested. Different times, different foods, different times before and after. I was still going into hypo.
    What was causing this, I scoured the internet. Really didn't know where to look. I was still in the dark, after the initial boost, still felt awful.
    I continued low carbing despite not feeling better.
    I got weighed again at the next appointment and my BP had come down slightly, my weight was 16st 5lb.
    He told me straightaway that my diabetic fasting levels were normal. My hba1c was well within normal levels. And if I tried a couple of tests in the hospital he thought that he could then determine the cause of my symptoms. At that time I was still considered myself diabetic.
    He told me I was to have a mixed meal test and an oral glucose tolerance test. He asked if I was eating a low carb diet and I see that would work for me. He also said to cut down on fruit and eat more often through the day with small meals. He said eating small regular meals would stop the hypos. He perused my food diary and my glucose readings.

    I had the tests, and I began to get control of my health, I lost weight, I got fitter and my symptoms lessened. Only my diet had changed. With the confidence of knowing that if I stayed away from carbs and sugars, my whole life changed around.
    My consultant without doubt has done this. He recognised the symptoms, he had one more test to do.
    Within a few months, at his advice and by July of last year, a full regular member learning and advising and contributing to my fellow forumites. With the help of a few friends on here, they saw me through my worst periods of my life. They steered me through the minefield to get away from the NHS advice and think for myself. To eat what was best for me, to see the benefits of low carbing.
    By then my weight had gone down to 14st 9lbs.
    But I was still going hypo! The glucose test revealed that 3-4 hours after eating my levels would crash. But I didn't hypo, when I low carbed! My final test for prognosis and to eliminate pancreatitis and pancreatic cancer was a72 hour fasting test.
    I would have to spend 4 days in my local hospital. And not eat or drink. This has been documented in a thread of mine.
    That test definitely ruled out every condition except for a form of NON DIABETIC Reactive Hypoglycaemia.
    I was stunned when he told me. Not diabetic?? I flushed insulin when I ate carbs and sugars.
    He asked me if I would become a form of guinea pig as I was really rare case. I didn't know what or why I was special.
    I was asked to try a Gliptin. Which is an inhibitor, to help with the glycogen and dpp4 production.
    So I did. My weight by the end of August last year had dropped to 13st 11lb.
    I have had a few more tests since, increased dosage, but I'm learning a lot and living a low carb lifestyle. I stay away from them as much as possible. I say that I am allergic to them as then I don't have to explain my condition. "But your still diabetic?"
    Ho hum!
    If I stay within the normal zone of blood sugar and eat low carb I'm safe. And in turn my whole system has altered, all my life signs have returned to normal levels. BP, cholesterol, liver function, fatty liver, lipids etc. I am totally fit and healthy for an old man of my years. My only fall down is carbs and sugar. I react to them!
    My endocrinologist doesn't know why, my new doc has heard of it but never seen a patient with it!
    My endocrinologist says that it is very rare to have my condition naturally. When he first seen me, he wasn't sure but because of no surgery or severe trauma, how I got it, he doesn't know. The meds are working but not as he wants them to, after two more tests, oral glucose tests, I have still had a hypo, but I'm not disappointed as it wasn't a cure and I'm fully in control through low carbing. If for example, I had high levels, If ill, I would just fast. Simple as that, I would fast till my levels normalised.
    What I found, was, that I dont need the meds for my condition as long as I was in control and I know I can have a treat or two!
    It has taken over my life, but it's a life worth living.
    My weight in January 15 was 12st 3lbs. January 27 11st 13lb. Today 11st 10lb.
    My target weight for the wife's birthday is 10 stone dead. But I'm not bothered by the figures as long as I'm healthy and in control!

    I'm special, I have medical paper waiting to be published about me! According to my consultant, that through his research into my condition and how I naturally got it, there has been less men that have walked on the moon, that have got my condition. Believe it or not! There is many forms of Reactive Hypoglycaemia as there is of diabetes. Just nobody has heard of them.

    I've had enough of being being reactive!!

    Thank you for reading!
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