Category: Dundee

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Yesterday we were greeted with the delightful weather that you get living in Scotland. Walking outside armed in layers of clothing, hood raised and body braced for the expected chill. It didn't happen, well not immediately. Passing through the sheltered area within the courtyard of my complex, I walked out just as a gust of wind picked up and swirled around me. Walking briskly against the cold to my first exam, the weather wasn't on my mind that much. Later on that day, it was all everyone was to be talking about...

Sitting in the exam hall surrounded by algorithms and artificial intelligence questions I was finding it hard to concentrate as all around us the wind was howling, rusting the metal roof of the sports hall and generally making me dread walking out into it later. Thankfully, it wasn't that bad as it was still teasing us into thinking that the wind would be kind and die off soon. Driving along to work shortly afterwards I found out that this was not the case. The radio was having constant warning, informing everyone to stay off the roads and only go out if essential, informing us of reduced services on public transport and reminding us again and again that between three and six the weather would be at its peak and the Met Office released a Red Alert - something they only do a couple of times a year.

Just as I was thinking that it wasn't so bad I reached a part of the motorway that was exposed to the wind. The force of it pushing me towards the end of the road forced me to drop from the usual 70mph to around 40mph, a speed most of my fellow drivers were hitting. Just as I thought I could handle being forced to such low speeds I realised I had to overtake a lorry that was driving at an even lower speed of 20mph. As I passed the vehicle twice the height of my car he began to sway into my lane pushing me back. Eventually he managed to stay in his lane long enough to allow me to pass without being crushed into the middle barriers of the road.

Finally I arrived at my employer's house i one piece where I then had to help him navigate through the wind keeping us both balanced at the same time. We had a shortened session that day and paused for a quick lunch as the wind picked up again. Sitting in the café, Alan and I watched as the trees swayed forcefully side and side trying to caress the passers-by as they pushed against the wind. Hair frantically waving as if warning us not to venture back outside, it was finally time to return home.

Driving home alone I have never been so nervous. Car pulling out of my control and speed reduced, I had to keep my distance from all the cars as they too were swaying drunkenly across the lanes. Finally I returned home, frozen and seriously windswept. It was then that I finally realised the extent of the damage of what had become known nationally as Hurricane Bawbag . Apparently our dear Scottish wind even got itself highly spoken on Twitter as STV pointed out .

Thankfully the wind has put it's hat up for the time being and has finally stopped howling. Perhaps the sun will even come out and play sometime soon.

 

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Last month I was visiting two of my dear cousins in Texas. Having grown up with them since I was aged four, they are more like siblings to me than distant cousins. Being similar ages our lives are often similar 'chapters' and this past visit made me think quite a lot about the current stage of our lives.

At aged eleven and nine (Craig) we had big hopes for our futures when we first left Zimbabwe and moved to America. Having returned to the States three times since leaving I have felt the change in all of us towards our career paths. Each year our plans would get more detailed and centred around a more specific area. In so many ways, our family has shaped us and the career paths we are currently pursuing. Our original goals for our careers have changed quite considerably since our arrival in Texas but what stood out more from the visit was that we had finally reached the next chapter of our lives. During my two-week visit the 'next stage' was frequently brought up in conversation. With Kirsten and I at University now and Craig due to start next year it was no surprise really but it seems like only yesterday we had high hopes for the future that seemed like it would never come. Well, we're in that 'next stage' zone now.

At aged nineteen, I am now thinking about post-university life and thinking of possible positions I can undertake as a career. Thinking back to that young, naïve child eight years ago I realise just how far I have come. I'm not sad to be growing up, our lives are just getting more exciting but part of me misses that mystery of what I pursue as a career. Not that what I want to do is set in stone, it's just that time seems to be speeding up and already I can see the pages turning as the next chapter of our lives are in sight. I guess I'm just surprised how quickly we have reached this stage as I wonder what the next stage of our lives will bring us.

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Many of you, although knowing me rather well, do not know the eldest of my two younger brothers. Callum is a seventeen year old who was diagnosed with Lennox-Gastaut Syndrome when he was four and a half years old. Before the doctors got his epilepsy stabilised, our lives were turned upside down.

Callum started off having what is known as a 'drop attack', where his body would be flung backwards and he would often hit his head off the ground. These seizures were often quite dangerous to him and led to many stitches on a single patch of his head. That patch has now been made hairless due to the significant amount of times that he ended up splitting the skin open. We went through endless nights of bad seizures, stages where Callum had to permanently wear a bicycle helmet on his head to reduce the damage and endless trips to neurologists, doctors and the hospital.

I've grown up with Callum having LGS and watched him rise and fight his syndrome when he was moved out of mainstream schools into private home schooling. At around nine years of age he was relatively stabilised, as much as would be expected, and despite the fact that he has a retarding epilepsy he was doing okay at school and life. Then we moved to America. There was no more home-schooling, he struggled in mainstream classes with 'special help' and started having a new type of seizure that was potentially fatal. Non-convulsive status epilepticus, a seizure where the person slips into an almost coma-like state. Callum would sometimes slip into these states for several hours, something that really concerned my mother. Anyway, Callum and I moved to Dundee, Scotland to live with our father where we lead a considerably more routine based life. This was what Callum needed. He managed to get into a special school for children with special needs. In his class of around six people, Callum did well. He even managed to gain some minor credits towards his standard grades (O Levels/GCSEs). Due to the fact that his epilepsy is a retarding condition his mental age has been an average of around six or so years of age. So, Callum was improving. His seizures were becoming more managed and although he had peak of challenging behaviour he was appearing to stabilise. Then everything changed.

My father passed away suddenly when Callum was nearly fourteen years old throwing him into a world of confusion and distress. Combine this event with puberty, a change of routine due to my mother and younger brother moving in with us and a new school all within the space of one year. A single one of those changes would be hard for an able bodied person to cope with at his age, but his autistic characteristics and traits of the LGS made Callum's (expected) deterioration to increase at a much faster rate than was expected.

In the past two and a half years since my father's passing, I have watched my brother increasingly become more confused, isolated and withdrawn as his challenging behaviour becomes a threat to us and those around him. As LGS is such an uncommon form of epilepsy it makes it hard for my mother to compare Callum to other children and the fact that he also exhibits traits of autism makes things even more complicated.

It's emotionally pulling to watch as Callum forgets how to carry out the day to day tasks, forgets how to play his favourite sport and just generally struggles to cope with society and life itself. As I watch how other people treat people with disabilities in such poor ways I get frustrated and angry. I must confess that part of me is glad that Callum's life expectancy is lower than that of the average British person as it is my hope that he will not have to endure the comments directed at these people form whom each day is a battle. In his own little world Callum is content and oblivious to his deterioration, much like an elderly person he is fading back into the dependent state in which everyone is born. For now though I am simply thankful that although his deterioration and ability to cope is hard to miss to the external world, Callum is relatively content to live his life in a world that fades with each passing day.