I saw a post from The Staffordshire Spotter on February 13th that a new independent bookstore - The Bookery - would be opening at Amerton Artisans in Amerton Farm. The post asked "Do you know of an established local author who would be interested?" Well I'm not established, but I am local. Oh and it said there would be cakes.
Well say no more!
I mounted my trustee steed (iM4.Elite from Easy Living Mobility) then immediately dismounted, folded the wheelchair up and stored it in the boot of a taxi from Westside/Aerobrights taxis, as it took me to Amerton Farm.
In case you didn't know - as I don't mention it much - I've written a book - Brain Tumours, John Bonham and Fat Pigeons - who am I kidding, if you've read any of my posts you'll know this poorly kept secret because as I'm reminded regularly by friends and family - I'll repeat that, FRIENDS AND FAMILY - "you're always banging on about your damn book!" well sod them, none of them have written a book...actually, that's not true. My dad's written three. The Larks, all this way for a shilling and Yellow Impi. See, I'm capable of banging on about other books as well, but back to mine now.
Any Jem Shaw fans should know that he edited my book. Feel free to leave a positive review on my book for this reason if you wish. Only positive though please, I'd rather people buy the book to find out it's only worthy of a one star rating.
Here was an opportunity to bang on about my damn book to a different audience. As I've learnt it's not easy to sell millions of copies on Amazon if people don't know it exists.
Amerton Artisans
As you go in through the main entrance, immediately to your left is the entrance to Amerton Artisans. It's basically a very large room with several small businesses. It's fantastic. I'd never been here before, there are several types of business here, for example homeware, gifts & cards, metalwork, arts & crafts... The list goes on. Check out the Amerton Artisans Facebook page for more info as this blog is about my wheelchair worries, of which there are a few to be found at Amerton Farm.
The Bookery
As you enter the hall The Bookery is on the opposite wall about fifty yards up. What a charming little shop. There are post cards pictures of 'Indie Authors' and short descriptions and multiple copies of their books. Indie Author means independent author. This store appears to be a great supporter of local authors. The store is quite small, I only stayed a few minutes before excusing myself as I felt I was taking up to much space. I was able to introduce myself to the owner and two local authors and showed them a copy of my book - well what did you expect? Afterall, I'm always banging on about it.
Amerton Farm
The access isn't brilliant, but I'm fairly sure it will be a listed building, so their hands will be tied with regards to what changes they can make. If it isn't listed I certainly don't hold it against them for not making changes that wouldn't be in keeping with the style of the farm.
For example I went into the tea room for a hot chocolate (the best hot chocolate I've had by the way.) But the door was quite old fashioned with a pull down handle. I was struggling to get in but a couple came to help me. They had to open the second door so that I could get through. If you've read previous posts on this blog you will know that inaccessible doors are a particular bug bear of mine. But I think in this case, keeping the old fashioned doors is acceptable.
However, the access when I got in wasn't much better. The tables were so close together it was a struggle to get the wheelchair through. I was having to move empty chairs from there place at the table or if people were sitting in them, they would inevitably have to move because the chair would be infringing on the tiny walkway.
As I was leaving the tea room I felt a tap on my shoulder, it was the lady I had spoken to in the bookery. She said she was looking on Amazon for my book but couldn't find it. She was keen to read about my story. I had hoped my appearance would open the floodgates and I would be inundated with requests for my book. I can't say it worked as I hoped, but I delved into my bag and retrieved a copy I had on me. She went to the table she was sitting at and returned with a £10 note and a copy of one of her books - The Haunted House 2. This was fellow author Ann K. S. Thayre. I say fellow author but that would imply I think I'm an author but I have only written one memoir, Annc has written five books.
Anyway Ann was a lovely woman who offered me very kind words of advice. Please check her out.
I arranged with a friend to go round to her house for a coffee. It was going to cost fifteen pounds to make the eleven minute journey via taxi though, so I had the brain wave that I would take the bus instead. It wouldn't cost me anything and I could document it,
I'm sure that would make a fantastically thrilling post.
In case you didn't notice, that was said with sarcasm...
It was tipping it down with rain. The video doesn't quite show the extent of it, but trust me it was biblical...well, alright, it was raining a bit, but it meant I was going to get a lot wetter waiting for two busses than I would if I took a taxi, but I would have a nice hot coffee waiting for me at the end...hopefully.
It was lashing it down with rain (honestly, it was biblical), my trousers were soaked through and I'd only been waiting for fifteen minutes. I don't like being cold and wet so I decided to open up my taxi app, spend the fifteen pounds and look forward to having a mug of coffee in the very near future, and guess what? Go on guess! Yep, the bus emerged from around the corner. It offered immediate shelter from the rain and it saved me from spending fifteen pounds. Granted, it would take me into town, which was the exact opposite direction to Wildwood, and I would have to wait in the rain to catch a second bus, I was fairly sure I was going to regret this decision.
*SPOILER ALERT* I DID REGRET IT
When we reached my stop, the bus driver lowered the ramp and - as he is familiar with my lack of capabilities when driving my trustee steed (iM4.Elite from Easy Living Mobility) - he warned a person waiting in the bus shelter to mind her feet because the bus driver knew what I was like.
Should I be offended? Nah, it's harder to maim people who are already wary of you.
I shut my front door about thirty-five minutes ago, I was now even further away from my destination than when I started. I got to the bus stop to catch my second bus and I asked one of the people waiting if she could check the timetable for when my bus arrives.
Why do you have to be someone of a certain height with decent eye sight to read the bus timetable?
Even if I wasn't in a chair, my poor eye site means that I still would struggle to see it. What if there was nobody here to help me? I think the wheelchair user is an after thought - if a thought at all other than doing the minimal amount so that they can tick a box on a form.
According to the timetable my bus was due in twenty minutes at 12:48 but the electronic board said 13:48. I'm sure this was an error but I'd arranged to be there at one o'clock. It was still raining (and remember, it was biblical) I was still cold, so I gave up and ordered a taxi.
Ah the predictability of stupidity
I booked a taxi on the app - the app that I always use - I followed my usual routine making sure I didn't put in my usual payment details as I normally use the taxi service to get to Headway. I paid with my debit card rather than the debit card that the council funds. I had arranged to be picked up from my usual location however - my house. I got a text saying "your driver is outside". I looked up from my phone. Nothing. I looked up and down the road. Nothing. It then dawned on me. I phoned the taxi company and told them my mistake and told them where I actually was. That mistake cost me half of the fare on top of the original fare.
This is going well
I'm cold
I'm wet through
I've had to order the taxi that I didn't want to pay for anyway
I've ordered it for the wrong pickup point
I've had to pay extra to rectify my balls up
Oh and I'm late
I finally arrived at my friend's - Kim - house. The first hurdle to overcome was the inch high step up into her house. I had questioned this when we made the arrangement and her response was "ah, we'll manage, don't worry about it." In fact I had a number of worries that involved my wheelchair and her house. Her response was "we'll manage, don't worry about it." Although it soon became "WE'LL MANAGE!" I took this subtle hint to stop worrying about it.
Issue 1
She had a dining room chair for me to transfer onto. And while I lazed around watching, she got the wheelchair in. Well, she tried, but the wheelchair is quite heavy and quite awkward to move unless it's folded up. The taxi driver offered to help before he left. We now had a sliding puzzle to solve. The hall was quite small and we needed to get my trustee steed in and be able to shut the front door. Kim slid me over towards the stairs, the taxi driver lifted my trustee steed inside and to the left of the door and we were able to close the front door.
Issue 2 We were in the hall. We needed to be in the living room, so Kim slid me close enough to my wheelchair so that I could transfer onto it. I had to then wheel into the living room, there slight problem however. There was a shoe rack by the living room door, so I couldn't fit the wheelchair through the door and the shoe rack was far too heavy and big to move. So I had to get back into the chair and then Kim slid me across the living room floor so I was close enough to transfer to the sofa. My electric chair was still in the hall though, so Kim folded it up and dragged it into the living room.
Issue 3 Kim went into the kitchen to make a hot chocolate with Bailey's. Yum! Yum! 😋 She came back with a fairly full mug so I lent forward to sip it but I was forgetting that I was wearing a cap. The peak of the cap touched the mug which made me recoil immediately and the contents of the mug spilt onto my jeans and onto the sofa. She got me a cloth. I cleaned up my jeans and the sofa as best I could and then I slid across with Kim's help to the other sofa. She has a Miniature Dachshund who wanted to join in with our 'game'. He excitedly jumped up, I recoiled as if the dog was trying to gnaw my face off and Kim fell onto the sofa almost spilling hot chocolate on t'other sofa
Again, this was going well!
Issue 4 I needed to go to the toilet. So I slowly went from the living room into the kitchen making sure I didn't mark the skirting boards or the walls. I then had to go into the utility, which was through a perfectly wide doorway, although there were several plastic bags hanging off a door next to the doorway. So, because I'm an idiot I tried to creep through the doorway without touching the bags. I could have just moved the bugs but then only a person who WASN'T an idiot would think of that. I was too close to the side and knocked into the skirting board and part of it came off. But I was barely moving at all so I thought it must have already been loose. I asked him and she reassured me that it was.
I went back into the living room afterwards and bashed into the television table, knocking a Christmas calendar onto the floor.
Issue 5 I was ready to go home so I booked a taxi and when it was about 15 minutes away I announced I better go now because I needed help to get me out again. We did the starting puzzle in reverse this time but Kim was struggling to get the wheelchair out through the front door. Fortunately her next door neighbours mother-in-law who Kim had never met, saw that we were struggling and offered to come and help. She helped Kim get the wheelchair outside and then helped me down the step into the wheelchair.
Issue 6 The skirting board wasn't already loose, I knocked it off. Kim knew that I would go into meltdown so she hid the truth from me.
So there we have it. That's how easy it is to go around to a friend's house for coffee. She hasn't invited me around since though. Strange 🤔
That was my first thought when I went to the toilet and the toilet bowl looked like somebody had been murdered. I wasn't in any pain so I contemplated ignoring it, but this wasn't a bit of blood, it was enough for a small blood transfusion. The absence of pain meant that I couldn't call 999. It was late afternoon so there was no point phoning the doctors surgery as they would just tell me to call tomorrow at 8am when they have appointments available. I gave 111 a go and they were great, they asked me a few questions and made an immediate appointment for me at the hospital.
So I booked a taxi, bundled my trusty steed (iM.4 Elite wheelchair) in the boot, picked up my Mum and headed to the hospital.
I used Westside Taxis who I use several times a week. They've always been great with me, as I've said in a previous post the iM.4 Elite isn't the lightest chair but isn't so heavy it can't be lifted and stored in the car boot, allowing me to travel around. As long as you have kind and obliging people to help you.
An appointment had been made for me at the urology department allowing me to bypass the few hours I would have spent waiting in A&E. The urology department was completely empty and I was seen straight away. I had to give a sample on my arrival, which considering the total privacy I had, was one of the more dignified experiences during this whole process. I was then called in to see the consultant and - as this is a hospital I had flat floors, incredibly wide corridors even some of the doors are widened. Nobody was here, there were no stretched out legs to navigate and no obstacles, which as you'll know from previous posts, I am to driving what Stevie Wonder is to arts and crafts.
I enjoy speeding around hospitals, it's almost like they're designed so it's easy to move around.
Upon testing the sample I'd provided, the consultant wanted me to go to the A&E in Stoke. He wasn't overly concerned and didn't bundle me stright into an ambulance. He didn't hold the test tube upto the light, sigh, slap me on the back and say "good luck". He didn't recoil in suprise at the blood red "urine" sample I'd given him and ask "HOLY SH*T, WHAT'S THAT?" So I wasn't too worried, but he was insistent that I went to A&E.
I bundled my trustee steed into another taxi and made my way to A&E. Stoke A&E is vast. There is a massive reception desk with several stations for many receptionists. There are different areas to wait in depending on your injury/illness. There is plenty of room everywhere and it's quite enjoyable to zoom around. I think people questioned how poorly I really was as I clearly wasn't in any discomfort and was more interested in taking advantage of this ideal motorised wheelchair environment. I was called into triage within minutes, it was confirmed what I was in for and I would need to wait for several hours to be seen.
Yes I was in a hospital and yes there was some issue with my insides, but because of the iM.4 Elite I had independence, granted, my Mum was with me, but let's not focus on that.
A few hours went by and I was called in to see the doctor. It took all of fifteen minutes. He had a feel and a prod of my stomach and once he'd determined I wasn't in any pain, went off to speak to another consultant to determine the next course of action. He returned to say they wanted to do a CT Scan to see exactly what was going on.
A swell guy
Now, I could moan about how it had taken several hours and 2 taxi trips which weren't exactly cheap just to tell me I needed a scan. I'm not going to do that though because I'm a swell guy... and this whole process had actually shown me with the aid of my trustee steed I was far more independent than I realised. If this had happened a few months earlier I couldn't have done anything about it as my dad was in Scotland at this time and I would have needed him to get to a hospital.
Nowadays if I start pissing blood I can at least get to a hospital on my own. Sort of.
About a week went by and I was summoned to Stafford County hospital for a CT Scan. I called upon Westside taxis again, bundled my trustee steed into the boot and made my way to the hospital, again!
This was my first CT scan and much more pleasent than an MRI scan. A CT scan doesn't require you to wear ear defenders that have no affect on the volume of the cacophony of noise the scanner is making. I wasn't cocooned in a metal tube, I wasn't given a panic button incase I got claustrophobic. A nurse didn't stop the scan half way through to inject me with something.
The scan took about 20 minutes and I didn't want to fork out for another taxi, so I used my trusty 'dad' card and got him to pick me up.
My Journey from Headway to hospital
Next, I had an appointment at the hospital again for a 'fibre optic examination of the bladder'. Now I'm not great at medical jargon, but I was fairly sure that meant they would investigate further with a camera. I was also sure of how they were going to get access to the bladder, and, well I consider that an exit, not an entrance thank you! I got the impression they didn't share my views though. I happened to be attending Headway brain injury clinic that day, so I made my own way up to the hospital. Headway was halfway there so I only had another 1.9 miles to go. It would take quite a long time to get there, but that was something I was getting used to now. I arrived for my appointment and was immediately taken into a side room where a nurse assisted me with shedding all my clothes and putting on a hospital gown. This is a process I tend to conduct in privacy as it requires all kinds of wiggling and contortionism. It's certainly not recommended in a tiny room that's little bigger than a stock cupboard.
Nice wide doors though, I can't fault the door width.
The floors were nice and smooth again and there was acres of space. Although I didn't feel like zooming around anymore.
I was called in to a decent sized room with 5 people in. There was enough space that we weren't tripping over each other, but we were in quite close proximity. Let's not forget one of us was in a hospital gown as well, a gown that was only secured by the full weight of my arse while I was sitting in the wheelchair.
Again, good wide doors though. I couldn't fault the door width.
One of the people was clearly the consultant and I'm guessing the other 4 were students. The consultant had my CT Scan on display as I walked in. The CT scan at the top of this post is the best I could achieve using 3rd party software, but I couldn't replicate the x-ray that was on display. The scan that was showing when I entered the room showed the full extent of the issue - 4 kidney stones. One of them was a whopper - 1.6cm.
"You've got 4 kidney stones, 2 in each kidney." the consultant enquired.
"Fair enough" I thought as I started to turn around to go straight back out hoping he wouldn't want to stick a camera in me.
"Even though we know you have kidney stones, we should just look with a camera to check there's nothing else there." Bugger!
"Have you had some previous surgery?" The consultant enquired.
The cable that is connected to the shunt in my skull was coiled up like a sleeping snake in my stomach. Any fluid that collects around my brain is sent down this tube where it releases. Now, I'm no genius but this cable was about the height of me, but was only needed for the top half of the body.
Am I the only human that's not biodigradable?
I transferred onto the bed with the help of 2 nurses. As I had got out of my wheelchair the gown was no longer secured, fortunately my modesty was covered. Until I lay on the bed and was instructed to bend my legs at the knees creating an arch. Unfortunately, a nurse had positioned herself at the foot of the bed. Surely she knew what view she was going to be subjected to? I believe she quit with immediate effect and now works in finance.
Report Urgency: no alert Verified: verified by Clark Alexander 22 May 2025
Three-phase CT urogram
Right kidney lower pole 0.8 cm 1100 HU non-obstructing calculus. Right kidney pelvis 0.8 cm 1200 non-obstructing calculus. Minuscule non-obstructing calculus in the lower pole on the right. Left upper pole 0.9 cm 960 HU non-obstructing calculus. Left kidney pelvis 1.6 cm 1600 HU non-obstructing calculus. Left lower pole 0.4 cm diameter non-obstructing calculus. On the delayed phase no upper tract urothelial lesion seen.
Other findings;
Uncomplicated-looking VP shunt or similar. This probably accounts for the shallow peritoneal liquid.
Moderate faecal loading throughout the colon. Several tiny bilateral kidney cysts.
Chronic bilateral L5 pars defects. Mild thoracolumbar scoliosis. Bone density is little on the low side considering the age. Right-sided dynamic hip screw.
I got off the bed and back into my wheelchair thus securing the gown again by sitting on it. I apologised to the nurse who had stood at the end of the bed but she couldn't hear me over her hysterical crying. I went back into the stock cupboard accompanied by a nurse to get dressed. I assured him I could do this on my own, he responded by saying he's not allowed to leave me on my own in case I have an accident.
Now people like to say the phrase "it's health & safety gone mad" I say "whoever came up with this idea of Health & Safety for every day tasks was a perv."
Nice wide doors though, I can't fault the door width.
I returned for my procedure a few weeks later. I had opted for keyhole laser surgery. They would go in get the 2 stones next to each other (there are 2 stones in each kidney) and obliterate them. Depending on the location of the stones, they may need to fit a temporary stent. 3 out of 5 people experience pain or discomfort. *Spoiler alert* I had a stent. I did experience pain. It would last for about 3 seconds when I passed water (which is constant - your bladder holds as much water as a sock). It was like a stomach ache that would rapidly increase and have me closing my eyes and wincing, but then it was gone. I don't know if that puts me in the 3 of 5 category or the 2 of 5, but it's not anything to write about...
I didn't think too much about this procedure as I thought "I've been in hospital before, for a whole year, I can manage 1 night!" And I was right, but what I had forgotten about was the loss of dignity, although on this occasion I wasn't completely helpless and could move.
I had a few weeks back at home, knowing that I had an appointment to have the stent removed. This would be a 20 minute procedure under local anaesthetic. I should have been enthused that they felt this procedure wasn't intrusive enough for a general anaesthetic, but I was focused on the fact that they put me to sleep to insert it but thought I was fine to be awake and witness them sticking a camera down a NO ENTRY ZONE...AGAIN! I didn't even get a gown this time, I had to undo my trousers which felt even more embarrassing. A third nurse had to be called upon to help retrieve it.
But, dignity has returned... temporarily. I get to experience all this again to destroy the remaining 2 kidney stones.
I am grateful the stones haven't taken it upon themselves to extract themselves though. I believe that is excruciating.
A New Independent Bookstore
