This is the story of the often-forgotten voice during times of hardship and crisis — the person who offers the greatest strength and sees hope when you cannot see it yourself. You don’t need to have read Part 1 and Part 2 to appreciate just how amazing Danielle Pemberton is.
Here is Dani’s story of love and survival.
France 2023 – When I First Saw John Cry Eurocamp holiday, first signs of emotional collapse, background on the ankle injury.
It was on our Eurocamp holiday in France 2023 that I first saw John cry. Prior to that it was always me crying, about a film, something that had happened, something cute the children had done, or just an episode of Bluey . He was sitting out on the decked area outside and I saw him with his head in his hands. Grace and Jude were in the caravan eating breakfast so I went out to him. “Are you ok?! What has happened?”
This wasn’t the start of it all, this was just where it had started to really wear him down. He had broken his ankle six years earlier jumping over a fence after collecting a cricket ball during a match. It seemed at the time like a normal break. It was just before Grace was born – great timing.
Over the next few years he had struggled a bit with running and his knee hurting, his cricket batting had become inconsistent and he couldn’t work out why. During COVID we went on daily walks and we had a stage of wearing barefoot shoes to strengthen our feet – John was very into this. He started to notice something wasn’t quite right and stopped wearing barefoot shoes. He walked very upright, had orthotics, and basically muscled through it all.
However, as years passed he started to realise that his big toe on the left foot wasn’t working properly. He had had appointments with physios and foot specialists and he was at a loss with what was going on in his foot. What he did know was that something wasn’t right and it was causing him pain.
“My foot just isn’t working properly,” he said in despair. “I just don’t know what to do.” He was at a point that he wanted to book flights home from France, after we had only been there two nights. The barefoot walking around the pool and the campsite was too much of a reminder for him. He was having to be so conscious in his movement to work out how to walk.
This had been building for a long time. At this stage he had had countless appointments with people who didn’t know how to help. They would give him exercises that he just simply couldn’t do because of what was happening with his toe.
I felt so sad for him and so helpless. He then got himself a routine of exercise in the morning that he was happy with so he could battle through the holiday. He put the kids first and made sure he could go on the waterslides with them. He held it together so well for them.
It was at night time he struggled. He would wake up panicking in the night, but only tell me the next morning. He was very much in his head about it all. We talked it out and we went through his movement when we had chance to try and problem solve it ourselves.
Let me just explain John’s background to give some context. John has played sport his whole life. He played cricket for Lancashire as a young man, he was a goalkeeper for the Everton youth football team, and as an adult, exercise became a huge part of his life. He studied sport and exercise science at university and worked hard to have an amazing physique.
When he got type 1 diabetes at 27, it also served as an important part of his diabetes management. This was huge for him — that his movement was compromised. The future he had envisaged with the kids and the family was slipping away. One of the major frustrations was that we couldn’t solve it and that he couldn’t do the physio properly.
When we got back from France he was having more investigations into what was happening after he had already had some fluid removed from his ankle. At the children’s birthday party he struggled and didn’t want to engage with people and was stuck in his head.
Late 2023 – The First Operation and False Hope Birmingham foot specialist removes bone spur; brief celebration.
He was seeing the best foot doctor in Birmingham and in November 2023 I thought it was all over. He had gone into hospital to have a procedure – the doctor had said they were going in to investigate with a camera as they couldn’t see on the scans due to fluid blocking their view.
I got a text message at work and I remember reading it in the library at the end of the day after a lesson. I did a big gasp and one of the English teachers and the librarian said “Are you ok?” “Yes I am fine!” I said with a massive smile on my face and I just burst into tears.
John had sent a picture of a bone spur that had been taken out of the back of his ankle that had been blocking the movement of his tendon. This was it! It was fixed! He sent a video that the doctor had taken of the tendon moving through, so now his toe would work!
We were so happy (me and my mum), that we decided to make a foot cake for his birthday to celebrate. Mum lives with us and so we felt his pain together. She knew everything that had been going on and was a huge support. The cake had the big toe lifting up – it was a whacky idea, but that is us, and it seemed fitting!
Unfortunately, it turned out that we celebrated too soon. His toe still wasn’t working properly. It was baffling. How can it still not be working properly? Why can’t he do the physio properly, why does it not feel ok to John?
He kept pushing through though and kept finding different ways that he could walk for a few weeks before he had to change what he was doing. He could last a month maybe doing the same thing but then would have to mix it up as he’d get pain in his back or knee. I realised that putting weight through your big toe is a massive thing.
April 2024 – Bournemouth and the Search for Answers Daily walking dread, London specialist, second surgery to remove adhesions.
The next big milestone was April 2024 when we went to my friend’s in Bournemouth. She lives really close to the beach, the kids were really excited. Unfortunately, it was really tough for John. He couldn’t walk without being stuck in his head. He dreaded walking the smallest distance, even when he was sitting down at the house he was stuck in his head thinking about how to solve it.
He would try and get on with things to keep things normal for the kids but I knew he was struggling. His energy was down, he was vacant, he wasn’t enjoying life despite the beauty of it. It was really hard to see as I knew how he wanted to show up but he felt like he just couldn’t do that. I was never annoyed, I just felt sad and a bit stunted by it.
I wanted to help him find the solution. “There must be something else going on,” I would say, “It is clearly not working properly.” We discussed it over and over, he would show me his foot and do different movements to show what was happening. It just didn’t make sense and no-one seemed to be able to help.
Next thing he was seeing the best foot doctor in London. This gave us hope. It gave something to move towards and a light ahead that meant it might not always be like this. They re-did all of his scans – MRI, X-ray, nerve conduction test. Again, this guy decided to go in and see what was going on as he struggled to see it all on the MRI.
In July 2024, John went in and again we thought it had been solved. The consultant found adhesions all down his tendon that worked his big toe. Adhesions are like scar tissue that block and glue the tendon in place – probably due to the tendon not being used for so long because of the bone spur stuck in the back. They cleared the adhesions with liquid and the tendon could move!!! Properly!!!!
The toe was now clear and again we thought – thank God – this is it – he will be able to walk! By this stage, John didn’t care about cricket, running, high-level exercise, he just wanted to be able to walk without getting pain or without having to consciously think about it.
Just after the procedure, we celebrated my sister’s 25th birthday with a camping trip and John was quiet and lost in his head. He knew it still wasn’t fixed. He was distant and not fully involved in the time we spent together, which was sad, but I didn’t know what to do about it.
I felt like we just needed to ride the wave and carry on and I always believed something would change or improve. He started to not believe that at this point.
August 2024 – Spain Holiday Struggles Barefoot walking, limited activity, early morning swims, meeting another family.
We went on holiday to Spain in August 2024, Eurocamp again, and this time hoping for less tears and angst than last year. The kids had a great time and were none the wiser, but John was suffering. The campsite was huge so there was a lot of walking and lots of barefoot walking again around the pools. Barefoot was always worse as it exacerbated the symptoms as he didn’t have the orthotics as a support for his foot.
We got the bus down to the beach a few times, and then decided to hire bikes as that was easier than walking. He still cycled to and from work at home as it was his only way to exercise.
During this whole period John also started getting lumps on the tendons of his hands, a condition that his grandad had, and his mum has to a lower level. It basically blocks the tendon and means the finger is stuck. So John was battling this as well and this narrowed down his exercise options even more. His path was getting narrower and narrower (in his mind) and when we thought it might improve, it just carried on.
He could swim though, so he went for early morning sea swims in Spain, which meant he could get his exercise fix.
I remember in Spain, I went for a walk and voice-noted my mum for about 25 minutes – the poor woman! Who sends a half-hour voice note?! But it was my therapy, it helped me to process it all, it helped me to deal with the energy.
I would never complain to John, but his energy affected me, of course it did. It sometimes made me feel anxious as I felt helpless and like I couldn’t change it and I had to just sit in it and focus on the kids.
He tried his absolute best, he never dipped out of a day on holiday, the kids were always our focus and keeping it happy and normal for them. John did an amazing job of this but when I look back at some of the pictures from Spain, you can see John is not himself.
We then met a family next door a few days in, and this really helped us. The children had others to play with and John was being sociable with the parents, which was great! It turned out he knew the cousin of the guy through the diabetes world.
September 2024 – The Big Decline Mental health spiral, Functional Movement Disorder diagnosis, CBT begins.
September 2024 was where there was a big negative shift. John felt like all options had been exhausted and the foot guy in London was now saying there was nothing more he could see that could be done and the foot was just very weak.
John was still struggling and was having to be so conscious in his movement he felt like he was going mad. The amount of times I had to listen to the same story about his foot… “look at this, when I suck in here it does this, when I breathe like this, it does this” — it was so hard to get my head around and sometimes I really struggled to stay focused in those conversations as I felt anxious.
I think that was just linked to the repetitive nature of the conversations and the fact that I was so helpless. I could also feel his angst and just felt so bad for him.
When I went back to work in September (I’m a teacher) everyone asked the usual question, “How was your summer?” and although it was difficult, I just couldn’t go into it as I would cry!
I don’t remember the date but not long after the school year had started John was spiralling downwards. The fact that the best foot doctor in London was saying that it was all fixed and John was still struggling was just really hurting him.
He was crying in despair one night in the kitchen and he said to me that he was scared. “What are you scared of?” I said. “I’m scared I am going to hurt myself,” he said.
At this point, my insides just felt like they dropped. I didn’t realise he felt like that and it was way out of character. I felt a sudden urge of protection over him as I hugged him. I felt my feet so strong in the ground like I wouldn’t move from his side if he needed me.
From that point I felt honed in on John’s safety and looking after the kids. I was scared, worried for him and the kids, and had to try and focus at work at the same time.
John was struggling to sleep. He was panicking, his heart was racing as he worried about the future and how to get out of the conscious movement cycle.
I remember going into work and having to walk out of morning meetings as I was about to cry. Some mornings I was there but I felt like I was behind a screen and anxious but trying to be present for the students in my classes.
Teaching really helped me as it took me away from that and I had to be there. I struggled more with classroom lessons as my anxiety levels were up so being on the spot in front of 30 students wasn’t ideal, but luckily years of experience carried me through.
The practical lessons were the best as they are manic and you can’t be anywhere else but there. Telling the girls to tie their hair up, concentrate, praising them, helping them. My job was probably my saviour at this point.
We had a laugh in the PE office as always, and they weren’t really aware what was happening at home so it really felt like a break from the worry. It was at breaktimes and lunchtimes though that I would remember and I would wonder how John was and text him. “Let me know if you need me, I will leave work if I need to.”
I needed John to know that I would be there at the drop of a hat. And I would have. He struggled on through going to work and carrying on.
He then had an appointment in London with the foot guy and he diagnosed him with Functional Movement Disorder. They were suggesting that his brain had rewired his movement in the wrong way after the injury years ago as he couldn’t use the foot properly. That’s why it felt disconnected and confused and like he was doing the wrong thing.
He had also broken his collar bone on the same side in recent years when he came off his bike, so this had added to the whole situation of movement and alignment.
John is an intense person anyway. Part of it was the fact it was all he could think about, but he was reminded with every step he took, so who could blame him. We take for granted that we just move naturally and don’t think about it.
Imagine having to think about how to move all of the time, even just the thought of it stresses me out so I could only imagine how it was for John.
After the FMD diagnosis they recommended CBT to work on the mind and how to distract the mind so that he could relearn how to walk now that the foot was “fixed” in all possible physical ways. It was a positive that he had this diagnosis but it was also confusing and didn’t change his day-to-day experience.
November 2024 – Losing Joy Birthday tears, abandoning the garage gym, constant foot clamping.
I remember his birthday in November 2024 – he came downstairs and just cried when he opened his cards. The children had seen him cry a lot by this point and were so sweet with him. They hugged him and asked if it was happy or sad tears – he said they were happy tears but he was lying.
He knew how lucky he was to have such a wonderful family around him but he felt like he couldn’t access it and be grateful for it as he was so stuck in his head. The children knew he had a bad foot and hugged him whenever he cried. I booked tickets for the Courteeners, which is a band he loved when he was younger. We went, but John really struggled through it and hated it because he was sitting there thinking about his movement and how he was sitting. It really angered him. He felt like he couldn’t enjoy anything anymore.
I missed hearing John exercising and grunting in the garage. I used to think, “God, he does so much exercise whenever he wants and he’s so noisy in the garage,” but now I just longed for him to be able to do that! The garage was abandoned and he was reducing his exercise more and more.
He stopped cycling to work as he felt it was sending him under as he was just in his head about how he was sitting on the bike. He felt like he couldn’t even walk to the train station in peace. He continued to be in his head even about sitting down; should he be tensing this muscle or that one?
He would walk around the garden desperately trying to work out how to walk then he would sit down and cry. Sometimes, well often, if he was not visible around the house, I would have to go and look for him as I knew he was somewhere crying.
He would be sitting down the garden, or on the bed upstairs. His head would be down or in his hands. He was in despair, he was so sad as he wanted to be a great active dad.
I reassured him as much as I could. “You are a brilliant dad no matter what.” He was. He played with them, he gave them time, but to him he was not present in those moments, he was just going through the motions.
He would say “It’s just not fair”, “Why is this happening to me.” I agreed but I also knew that life sometimes is not fair. If this is the way it is then we need to learn to live with it and adapt. That was easy for me to think as I could still play netball and do my job as a PE teacher. I could go out to work and feel like I got a break from it. He never got a break.
I would worry on the way home from work about how he would be when I saw him. I could tell as soon as I saw his face. Sometimes he wouldn’t look me in the eye or if he did he would try to smile, other days he would really try to do a big smile but it wasn’t real, other days he would do that look of “Yep, I’m still struggling so I’m not even going to try and smile,” just a raise of the eyebrows and a look away.
My heart hurt for him but I also knew that he had to navigate his way through this himself. I just needed to be there, to be helpful if I could. Support the children and keep them happy, and be there in a flash if John needed me.
December 2024 – Thailand Holiday Family trip with illness, reduced activity, moments of deep sadness.
September to December was tough, but we got through it. Then it was the holiday to Thailand. We had booked it the previous year so that we could meet his sister, husband and children who live in Australia, and my mum and John’s mum and dad were coming too.
I love Thailand and the children were excited. John was dreading it. It was hard for his family to understand exactly what was going on as they didn’t live with it every day. He looked like he could walk so to them it seemed strange. The issue was the experience he was having in his head. Yes, some of it was psychological and how he was processing it all, but it was all because of how his movement felt and that his foot wasn’t working properly.
He had had to reduce his exercise so much, which he hated as it had always given him an endorphin kick and it was part of who he was.
Christmas Eve his mum got sickness and diarrhoea. Christmas Day, I got it. It went around the family but to be honest we weren’t too fussed as we were in Thailand and we could just go back to our room if needed. Then John got it and the sad thing was it actually helped him to be bed bound for a couple of days.
He got a really bad headache with his dehydration and we had to get a doctor out to the hotel and he was put on a drip. As he has type 1 diabetes, sickness and diarrhoea is not good as he can’t keep sugar down and the blood levels go a bit all over the shop.
We went on a trip to an elephant sanctuary when he was ill so he missed it, but in all honesty he was glad, as it involved a lot of walking. He hated the fact that he felt like that but that was the truth of the moment.
There were a lot of tears in Thailand. He tried to hold it off and pretend everything was ok and he did do a good job of it, but then the kids were running back to the apartment and playing and he just wanted to go with them and it set him off. “I can’t even run with my kids, I can’t play with them,” it was just breaking his heart.
I thought this might be it so I was saying to him “Look, we don’t have to be an active family, we can read, we can play games, we can do other things – we can still be happy and the children will still love their childhood.” I had read a lot of stories of people in wheelchairs who had accidents etc., and I felt like, actually, we are lucky that we have what we have.
When we got back to England, within a couple of weeks, John had seen an osteopath and his CBT therapist and believed he had cracked it – he did some stretches in the morning that put him in a position where he felt he could walk and move well during the day.
He was not cycling but was happy getting the train to work and walking short distances to the station. He threw himself into work and was completing a few research papers. His behaviour was a little bit frantic in hindsight but I thought he might be ok. I had mentioned it to people at work by this point and they asked how he was and I was like “Yeah, I think he’s ok!”
My closest friends all knew about the situation and I happily told them that he seemed so much better. I was happy, the energy in the house was better, it all seemed good.
John and me went to a spa day in the Easter holidays, it was on my mum’s birthday. He had booked it as a bit of time for me and him after everything that had happened.
During that three months, I had also decided to look for a different job and had found an online job as Physical Health Lead that would be working from home and John had encouraged me to give it a go and that we could afford it – he is very supportive and wanted me to try something new as sometimes school did stress me out.
Easter 2025 – The Spa Day Setback Leg press triggers another crash, amputation discussions, conflicting physio and CBT advice.
The spa day was a turning point. We went to the gym before our treatments. I did some intervals on the treadmill, which may not have helped, as he couldn’t run anymore. He was just moving around the gym as he used to but then he went on the leg press.
He then left the gym quite promptly and said he would meet me at the pool. I followed shortly after and could see on his face something was up. He looked like he was thinking about his foot. He looked like he was thinking as he was walking. We spoke about it a bit on the loungers by the pool but he just was in his head a bit about it after that.
Then came the crash. It was the leg press that had set him off. “I couldn’t do it properly, my foot had nothing. It is still completely fucked,” he said. He was angry. He didn’t understand it.
The thought of having to deal with this foot that couldn’t stabilise for the rest of his life was a big pill to swallow. The tears came back. He was trying to stay above water, he said he was trying to hold off the worst and the bad feelings, but they all came flooding back.
We were meant to go to a House dance event in Leeds at the start of May that we had been to the previous year (and loved it), but he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want to be on his feet, not even to dance. He loved dancing, and when we went out dancing it had always been ok, but he couldn’t take it this time. I didn’t mind, it was what it was. I just wanted him to be ok.
We talked about amputations – could it be better if he had a prosthetic and could then stabilise his weight through the foot? Some professionals said it was a possibility, others said it was a very bad idea.
He carried on going to the physio, if nothing else, just to have an appointment to go to. They said he had to put the time in to do the physio on his foot to strengthen it. The psychologist coming from the Fundamental Movement Disorder side was suggesting he needed to avoid physio and just distract himself and that his movement would be ok.
He had these two different sides that were battling against each other, but neither seemed to be working.
I got the online job, but now that John had crashed back down, I just didn’t know what the future looked like. I was worried about money, about leaving the community at my school, about working from home if John was there a lot.
He was having more and more days off as he could not face walking to work or even sitting at his desk. He had gone completely inside his head and it was worrying. At this stage I started talking to people at work more about it as I needed to. I cried, but talking about it really helped me to carry on as normal.
We talked about the amputation, we talked about CBT and that maybe he just needed to view things differently. I really didn’t back the FMD side – I didn’t think it was helpful and the CBT didn’t seem to be supporting him. I suggested maybe he needed something else. He tried hypnotherapy – not successful – as it was getting him to envisage the future, and he couldn’t do that, he didn’t know what the future held.
The problem was his foot kept clamping. Every time he took a step his foot clamped, so he couldn’t even walk through his toe to strengthen it and use it. So he would do the physio exercises and then couldn’t even walk to use what he had been strengthening.
He felt like there was a disconnect. He couldn’t just move like I could, like anyone could, without thinking about it. I had a battle in my own head about exercise. I wanted to still exercise and play sport, but I also didn’t want to rub it in his face that I could still do it, but I couldn’t stop myself from doing what I loved and needed.
Netball was my time away from the kids and it wasn’t long, but I needed it. I tried to exercise when he wasn’t there, but at the worst times when he was always there I just didn’t do it. I focused on him and the kids.
He then got signed off work. Every time he woke up in the morning he had dread. He started sleeping in and not wanting to get out of bed, which he has never done. He has always been an early riser. His anxiety about the situation had skyrocketed and he now couldn’t even get to work as he was anxious at his desk. He would walk up and down the corridors trying to solve his walking problem, and one day he said he was close to taking himself to A&E as he was worried about his mental state.
I started to lock down again as I could tell he was probably thinking again about suicide. We hadn’t really discussed it, but he mentioned it as dark thoughts. He often said that he didn’t know how much longer he could carry on like this. It was torture for him in his mind.
He sat down a lot. He started reading the Harry Potter books and watching the Harry Potter films. The children enjoyed this but he was angry and upset that it was like this.
It was then our wedding anniversary on 22nd June. We looked at the photos and reminisced. He hated it. It was a reminder. He felt so sad. I felt so sad that he couldn’t see any positivity. My heart ached for him, for us. I still hoped that something would change. I didn’t know what, but I still hoped.
I would pray to my dad. He is like a God to me, in that I think of him looking over us and he was such a wonderful man. I asked him to do anything he could, but I also understood that he might not be able to help — this was real life. One of my dad’s close friends had died in April and I missed his funeral at the start of May as I didn’t want to leave John. I prayed to him too. I knew he and Dad would be together and that they would want the best for us all.
One thing that frustrated me was that they would do anything to still be alive, and I thought, they would take the bad foot to be alive again. There were people in wheelchairs that would take the bad foot. There was a lady who died of cancer who had young children that we knew — I knew she would take a bad foot to still be alive. I wanted John to just appreciate being alive. But when someone is in that way, they are not thinking clearly, they are in a fog and in despair.
There was one time that John said, “How would you feel? If you couldn’t play tennis or netball, or do your job?” I could feel his angst, his hurt and his anger. “Yes I know. It would be shit. I know you are frustrated but I can’t change it. I understand and I’m sure it would be just as hard for me. But I would change my job, I would have to adapt.” That was probably the only time we had friction in that way.
I think he felt like I didn’t get it and I went out playing sport and took it for granted. I didn’t take it for granted — I was grateful and still am.
After the difficult day that was our anniversary, we were in bed and I could tell that he thought it was the last time. I had this feeling that I couldn’t shake. I was lying there worried. It is amazing what you can know just from energy and feelings.
Summer 2025 – Hitting Crisis Point Wedding anniversary warning signs, suicidal thoughts, crisis team call.
The next morning when we woke up, I hugged him, I knew he was struggling. He said, “I need to tell you. It has gone to the next stage. I have now got a plan.” He had formulated a plan to kill himself. “Oh shit,” I said. I instantly knew I wouldn’t be going to work that day. I thought that we needed to ring the crisis team.
He said goodbye to the children when they were leaving for school with my mum and he was sobbing and hugging them like he would never see them again. He said, “Daddy isn’t well.” Bless those children. I let the school know what had happened as I was worried that they might be tearful during the day. They knew about his foot and they had seen him cry quite a lot, but this was next level. They were fine though, and the school were amazing and so supportive.
We rang the crisis team and John quite coldly told them his plan. I was actually shocked but the lady said, “You just need to change your mindset.” They didn’t send anyone out, they didn’t really do anything. As he was already seeing a psychologist (who had recommended calling the crisis team) and a physio, they didn’t know what else to suggest. He was already on antidepressants etc. I was at a loss. What on Earth are we meant to do then?
To be fair, the crisis team’s reaction actually surprised John into a shift in mindset. Me, him and my mum talked a lot that day and I think my mum’s tears about him choosing to leave us hit home. I think he decided it wasn’t the answer, which was good, and he started focusing on “We not I”. He was battling through but still really struggling, God love him.
ADHD Diagnosis – The Turning Point Neurodiversity assessment, starting Elvanse, foot clamping stops, return to family life.
His CBT psychologist suggested being assessed for neurodiversity as he was such an intense thinker and relied so heavily on exercise for regulation. The conversations between us around this were mixed. I thought, yeah you probably are neurodiverse in some way, but so are we all. I said to him, “You can pay to be assessed if you want but I’m not sure what difference it will make if you are diagnosed. It won’t change anything.” Well, how wrong was I.
He thought he may as well go through the motions as he was clutching at straws at this point — anything that might help or give some insight into how to move forward in life. So he was assessed by a lady that his CBT psychologist recommended. It turns out he does have ADHD. Over the years he has used caffeine and exercise to increase his dopamine levels, and drugs on a night out to regulate his brain and get it to the right levels.
The lady suggested a drug for him to use. He didn’t mention this to me, and it was a good job he didn’t as I probably would have said, “Oh, you don’t need that.”
So he started taking Elvanse, and he instantly noticed a difference in his brain but also… his movement! He didn’t mention it to me for a good few days as there had been too many times that he thought he had cracked it and it had come crashing down again when he realised his method wasn’t sustainable.
He did all of his physical tests to check his foot. He then wrote a blog and sent me the blog and told me and my mum, and everyone else that he could, what had happened.
The Elvanse had put dopamine in a part of the brain that controls involuntary movements, and all of a sudden he felt connected again. He felt like he didn’t need to think about moving. His foot stopped clamping!
What the hell???!!! I was like – what? The amount of times I have sat and watched him trying to move or walk and his foot was clamping and I was like, “That is the bastard problem – that is what we need to sort out – why is it doing that?”
This drug had flicked a switch in his brain that stopped the clamping! He could walk through his foot! I actually couldn’t believe it. I was filled with such joy, happiness, relief; my heart was full for him.
He smiled. He could walk with the kids. He went out with them down Harmony Wood and did races. The simple things that he had wanted to do for so long – it made me so emotional. Part of me worried about being excited as we had been here before, but this felt different.
The Wales holiday that he was dreading, he was now looking forward to. I hadn’t booked a holiday as I wanted to avoid holidays, but his mum had booked it for the children, which was lovely. So glad that she did.
He suggested playing tennis against each other the next day – he beat me 6–4. Slight annoyance, but also joy that he could beat me and that order had been restored.
I genuinely would have stuck by that man even if he had not been able to run or exercise etc., it didn’t bother me. I wasn’t married to John because he could exercise, I was married to him because of who he was — a kind, intelligent, beautiful soul, that was such a wonderful dad and husband, whether he could run or not.
But he couldn’t see that. He had his own expectations for what life would look like. There is still a lot of work to do to strengthen his toe, and when the drug starts to wear off, I think he does have to think a bit more about his foot.
But it feels like a miracle. It is mad to me how so many professionals can know so much about their field, yet no-one knew that this drug would help his foot. Even the lady who prescribed it thought it would help his brain and didn’t realise it would help him to access his movement. It is actually insane and has opened my mind completely. ADHD is so complex, it is really not as simple as we all assume.
This journey has been a crazy ride. It has brought me and John so much closer as we have been through the worst of times and come out the other side. I am so proud of him and we have both learned so much. And that is life, isn’t it? We must learn from everything and take the lessons into the rest of our lives.
Now – Moving Forward Together Life after diagnosis, key lessons, and plans for the future.
Key lessons for me that I will continue to stick by:
Never give up. Even in your darkest hour, there will be a way forward — it might just not be the one you expected.
Talking to people is the most important thing in life — share your worries, cry if you need to. If it wasn’t for my mum, my sister, my family and dear friends I would have struggled so much more to deal with everything that was going on.
Have an open mind. I didn’t think John should bother getting assessed, and probably would have said you don’t need medication if he had told me about it. Professionals don’t always have all the answers, and neither do I, clearly. We must be humble in our approach to things we don’t know enough about.
Be at peace with everything. I had to make peace with the fact that John might take his own life and it was out of my control. If you make peace then you don’t worry, have fear or anger.
Love unconditionally. My love for John, the children and my family and friends carries me through everything.
And now? John has booked Ibiza as a celebration in his high dopamine state! So we are off this weekend and I can’t wait. It will be a milestone and we are going to embrace every second!
