Although yesterday didn’t see a new post on the blog here from the #Trust30 challenge, I’m still creating. I spent the day working on plans to migrate and upgrade some of the websites I own and run, including this very blog, which the eagle-eyed among you will have noticed isn’t where it used to be.
I’ve also been working on a page to collate everything I do and advertise myself to the widest possible audience. The page should be live in the next couple of days, but here’s a sneaky few peaks:
The plan was that by this time today ((around 4.30pm as I write this)), I should have been arriving at a hotel in Scotland with the rest of the 3 Peaks team to prepare ourselves to tackle the immense 3 Peaks Challenge this weekend.
As we all know, other things happened to get in the way of that.
I’m absolutely gutted that I’m not going to be with Ben, Dave, Gary and my bro this weekend and that I’m not going to feel the immense sense of achievement (and exhaustion) on Sunday morning that I anticipated feeling. What makes it worse is the fact that this is now 2 years in a row when my health has got in the way of the very same challenge, with the very same team of people.
I’ve dealt for many years with the ups and downs of my health, but I’ve always managed to come out of things with a positive spin and so it is with this. Despite thinking that after transplant I wasn’t going to face these kinds of disappointment, I’m finally starting to hear the sense in my own words, spoken at almost every event I speak at: transplant is not a magic bullet, it’s simply exchanging one set of problems for another.
Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing – NOTHING – that I would change about my life right now. Transplant has saved and transformed my life and allowed me to be the person I always wanted (and believed) I could be. It’s allowed me to do all the things I’ve always wanted (and believed I could) do.
Events like the things that have been happening recently serve only to remind me that although I have downsides, so does everyone else. And thanks to my transplants, my troughs are a hell of a lot shallower than before – and than many other people deal with every day – and my peaks are a hell of a lot higher.
So it leaves me simply to suck it up and move right along – knowing in my heart of hearts that not going this weekend is the right decision and knowing that something else will soon come along to excite, entice and energise me as I move forward.
As a result of recent events, my life is going through a lot of changes, but they are all enormously exciting and I know that the best times of my life lay ahead. It’s time to knuckle down, get on with it and start taking my first steps forward to the brave new world to which I’m being introduced.
One of the interesting things about taking on a challenge like #Trust30 is the imperative to create.
Normally, we create out of a desire, out of inspiration that comes in many different forms, whether it be business ideas, marketing concepts or works of art. By being part of a month-long initiative to create something every day, the onus is switched from inspiration to perspiration – we are forced to work to conjure something to post or begin.
Of course, creation-to-order is nothing new – media and ad agencies ((as TinyButMighty is evolving into)) develop fresh, innovative ideas every day, under pressures from clients only too happy to take their business elsewhere if they’re are unimpressed.
So can creativity be forced? Is it possible to access the hidden banks of ideas in our heads to keep the creativity waterfall flowing, or are the people who do it day-in, day-out simply overwhelmingly talented and in touch with their creative hemisphere in their heads?
Truly creative people are able to create from nothing in an instant. It may not be a polished, finished product or idea, but their brains work in such a way as to always be able to supply something. But I also believe that there’s no such thing as a “non-creative” – everyone is capable of it, one just needs to learn how to harness the creative muscle and make it work for you like anything else.
Yesterday I pledged myself to taking part in the Domino Project, Ralph Waldo Emerson-inspired #Trust30 project to create something new everyday.
As I headed to bed this evening, it occurred to me that I hadn’t written anything on the blog today. Sure, I busied myself with updating and catching up on The Indie Film Hub, which had also been hit by my minor health detour last week, but did that qualify under #Trust30 rules?
What is “creation” – how do we define it? How do I define it is probably the more pertinent question; the one thing we can safely say about all art and creativity is that it’s entirely subjective.
For me, this blog represents creation; the Hub represents curation, a very different thing. Even though I create new content to post every day, what I’m actually doing is curating the content I believe to be of value to other filmmakers and people who work in film. The content itself – the lessons, the examples, the information – is all created by the hugely talented people whose blogs, websites and newsletters I read every day.
So what is creation? For me, creation is about intent. Creation is about originating something that serves a purpose. It doesn’t have to be a higher purpose. It doesn’t even have to be a purpose that matters to anyone else. When I first started blogging, I wrote entirely for myself, to motivate me and to explore my life and my feelings. That’s a purpose. That’s creation.
By that definition, I suppose the Hub does represent that. So why doesn’t it feel that way?
What’s your definition of creation? Is it word-count, impact, intention? Or is it more ethereal, more intangible?
After the travails of the last three weeks ((detailed in 3 posts on my Journal Blog here, here and http://www.olilewington.co.uk/smilethroughit/2011/05/31/the-sage-concluded/)), it’s time to get back to the business of blogging and creating top-quality content for all my readers again.
To that end, a very useful little initiative popped up in my Google Reader RSS feed this morning – The Domino Project‘s #Trust30 initiative, based around their new release Self Reliance by Ralph Waldo Emerson.
#Trust30 is a month-long commitment to create something new every day for 30 days, whether it’s blogging, writing, painting, filmmaking or anything in between. The aim is simple to create.
I’m committed, are you? If you’ll be taking part, leave us a link to your site in the comments so we can all help to hold each other accountable.
By now you’ll have read the other two posts and, possibly, seen my Tweets on the subject, too, but I’m home safe and sound after the craziness of the preceding weeks. Here’s what happened on the final day of investigations at the John Radcliffe in Oxford.
At 8.30am I was informed I’d be going to the angio theatre at around 11am to get everything sorted. 10 minutes later I was told it would be 9am instead. A rapid shower and gowning later, and I was riding my bed down the corridors to the radiology department, where I was met by an assortment of nurses, doctors and, I think, and anaesthetist (although she could have been just about anything).
The nurse checked out my groin and deemed that I’d not shaved well enough, so gave me a rapid going over with a dry razor, following which I was immediately sterilised with surgical alcohol. Yes, yes it did hurt. A lot.
Next came the ironically-painful local anaesthetic injections around the artery in my groin, followed by a frankly disconcertingly painful and uncomfortable pull, pushing, pressing and scratching as the doc inserted a fairly large tube into my artery and begin sliding the angio tube all the way in and up to the base of my neck.
Angiograms are very weird things, where you’re lying flat on your back with an X-Ray machine immediately above your face and one immediately to the side. As they inject the contract dye into you head to highlight the blood flow – and thus show any clots or aneurysms – you feel a hot rush that’s unlike anything you can describe beyond the feeling you get when you tense really hard to make yourself go red in the face.
What’s even weirder with a full angio, as opposed to the CT Angio I spoke about last time, is that they pinpoint very specific areas of your head, meaning you get the flushing sensation in extremely localised areas in your head. It’s incredibly bizarre and although not unpleasant, it’s not something I’d like to repeat to often. Or at all.
Back on the ward, I felt the familiar headache forming, but this time it was accompanied by a significant nausea as well and before long I was beside myself with pain and the urgent desire to throw up, coupled with being forced to lie flat on my back for 6 hours after the procedure to prevent the artery opening up again once it had clotted.
It turns out, although I was unaware of it at the time, mostly through sedative doses of Codeine and Tramadol for the pain, that I’d reacted to the dye they had used. Whereas the CTA had only cuased a headache, the far more significant doses of dye used in the full angio had resulted in a not-insignificant reaction on my part. The only good thing to come from it is that I don’t really remember a lot of it too clearly.
In the end, I improved quite rapidly once I was put on IV fluids and began to eat and drink again and I was discharged the following day with two conflicted reports on what had happened.
The registrar was of the belief that the whole thing had been caused by acute sinusitis and that the LP result had been a false-positive. This is a diagnosis I struggle with having seen my mum suffer through horrendous sinusitis in the past and not recognising a single symptom she described in myself. However, because it was the only thing that showed up on the CT ((ie, that my sinuses were full of muck)), I think the Reg decided to put it down to the visible.
The consultant, on the other hand, strongly believes that it had, indeed, been a sub-arachnoid haemorrhage, caused not by a ruptured aneurysm as is most common, but by a burst blood vessel that was so small it obliterated itself in the process, leaving no evidence whatsoever for the scans to pick up – something that happens in around 15% of SAH cases, she told me. Her main evidence for this was based on the Xanthochromia found in the LP – a type of cell formed when red blood cells expire – which she doesn’t believe would have formed in the CSF through a badly-performed LP as it takes too long for the RBCs to break down to that stage.
So, essentially, I left the hospital with a clean bill of health, but feeling worse than when I did when I was transferred. I’m now on an anti-convulsant drug to stop the blood vessels in my head spasming and causing more problems. I’m assured this is purely a precaution and the course only lasts 3 weeks, so I should be back to normal soon.
More on the changes that have been forced on my by this latest hospitalisation later in the week.
Following my post from last Thursday about my admission to hospital, at the end of which, you will remember, I was waiting for a transfer to a neuro unit somewhere in the UK, the epic story of a simple headache continued for the next 6 days before finally reaching an inconclusive conclusion on my 29th birthday this last Wednesday.
I was (eventually) moved to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford, where their neuro unit is considered to be one of the best in the country. On top of which, it was significantly easier for my family to come across and visit than a stay in central London would have been.
The Saturday after I arrived I was prepped and sent for a CT Angiogram, which is a regular CT scan ((of the kind I’d had to Harefield the day I was first admitted)) plus a big bolus push of iodine-based contrast-dye to highlight all of the blood vessels. The idea was to look for aneurysms or weakenings in the walls of the blood vessels that usually show as small bubbles of blood. The concern with any aneurysm is that it could rupture and cause major bleeding on the brain, which in turn can cause strokes or even death.
The didn’t find anything.
It was at this point that the suspected diagnosis was made clearer to me through the far more knowledgeable nursing and medical staff at the JR; they suspected what’s called a sub-arachnoid haemorrhage. Here’s a couple of quick definitions to save me boring you to death if you couldn’t care less about the rest of the medical jargon and info.
I then spent the rest of the weekend locked up on the ward on 4-hourly obs and not allowed to stray for more than 30 minutes and then only if accompanied by a family member. Strict isn’t the word, but then I suppose the kind of issues they deal with are much more serious than most of the hospital wards I have frequented in the past, where a minor hiccup is unlikely to lead to instant chronic brain failure or death.
On Sunday afternoon, I was told by the weekend doctor that he suspected the LP from Harefield had been a false positive from the two failed attempts before the successful one ((meaning the sample was contaminated by blood from outside the CSF)) and that further tests were unlikely to be ordered.
To my surprise, then, I was consented for a cerebral angiogram first thing on Monday morning, with no real explanation of the reasons beyond the fact that it’s the best test to check or aneurysms. Clearly, the weekend doc wasn’t the one in charge of my case and made a slightly sweeping statement in leading me to believe all was well and I’d be on my way home as soon as the docs on my case could process the discharge paperwork.
Waiting around, nil-by-mouth, all day for a procedure you don’t know a huge amount about is slightly frustrating, but not nearly so much as being told ten minutes after lunch has been round that they won’t be performing it that day.
I would go on to have the full angio the following morning, but that’s a whole story in itself.
The epic adventure continues tomorrow….
Thanks to an unscheduled 10-day stay at the pleasure of various hospitals and doctors ((more on my journal site)), it’s been far too quiet on here.
Rest assured, normal service will resume after the weekend. Thanks for sticking with me.
If you’re reading this, you probably already know that I’m currently residing in Harefield Hospital following a ruptured cerebral aneurism on Sunday. Here’s the lowdown:
Sunday night, around 8pm, just as I was returning from my dinner break to put the final touches to the project that was due in on Monday, I developed a sudden, severe headache at the top of my neck where the spine meets my skull. Within minutes, it had spread right around my head, which alternated between feeling like someone was drilling into it and my brain trying to explode out of it.
By 8.30 I couldn’t function and was laid on the bed in pain, feeling sick. By 9.30 I’d started vomiting and wouldn’t stop for the next 24 hours.
After failing to keep down one dose of immunosuppression and knowing the morning dose wouldn’t stay down, either, I headed in to Harefield where they rapidly took a CT of my head and found nothing. To be on the safe side, they then opted for a lumbar puncture (or spinal tap) to see if I had signs of blood in my cerebro-spinal fluid ((NB – blood in the CSF is NOT a good thing)).
Although clear to the naked eye, tests that returned on Tuesday confirmed the presence of blood and, hence, a probably bleed on the brain.
Since Tuesday, I have been improving progressively and now feel right as rain and ready for action. The doctors, however, disagree.
It’s extremely unusual to have any kind of bleed like this at my age ((a tender 28 until next Wednesday)) and the obvious concern is that a small aneurism (pocket of blood) had a small bleed that caused the initial headache, but could fully rupture at any time and cause more life-threatening consequences.
Personally, I’m not worried about that at all. Harefield have been trying for the last 3 days to get me transferred to a specialist neuro unit with little success, which indicates to me that none of the neurosurgeons who have looked at my file are overly concerned.
That said, it’s obviously far too big a gamble to ignore it all together, so my current state of limbo is being sat in Harefield whiling away the hours and days until a bed becomes available for me at either Charing Cross or, more likely, the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford ((also my preferred choice)).
Without going into more medical and boring detail, that’s pretty much the skinny for now. No idea if/when I’ll have access to my laptop again when I’m moved, so there may not be updates as regularly as you may like, but the latest news will be posted on my Twitter feed as it comes in.
Finally, many thanks for all the love and support you’ve all shown over the last couple of days since we first made the news public, it means a lot to me and to K as well, who’s obviously had quite the time of it over the last week and is coping with her typical strength and humour.
Sometimes knowing when to stop trying to be the market leader is good for you.
Everyone wants to be Top Dog and we all want to be known as the go-to place for people to find our products or services. But there are times at which accepting that you’re not the biggest can be a distinct advantage.
Take MySpace, for example. Yesterday, I tweeted that they have release a new app to help musicians maintain their MySpace page and update their Facebook Fan Page at the same time. While I’m sure that MySpace is still smarting from being the go-to social networking site for a good couple of years way-back-when, they have now accepted that the vast majority of people use Facebook as their primary social networking tool.
The problem that MySpace faces is that while it’s ingeniously designed for musicians in particular, it’s fairly useless to those individuals and bands if the only people using the site are the musicians and bands themselves. The artists want to connect with their fans and the easiest way to do that is through Facebook.
By effectively helping their members to advertise themselves on Facebook, MySpace are helping to ensure that those who prefer the interface and usability of their site over Facebook can still use it to reach millions of fans who may never have discovered them if they had stuck solely to Facebook.
Biggest isn’t always best, especially if you know how to piggy-back on the success of a larger player to give your core customer base exactly what they want from your product.