Fantastic charity night at Ashington Football Club on 7 June organised by Julie Ann Carr! Julie raised over £750 for NETA (North East Trust for Aphasia) and brought that up to £1,000 with her other fundraising activities!
The stars of the show:
- Lost Voice Guy aka Lee Ridley, who previewed his new show for the Edinburgh Fringe, “Laughter is the Worst Medicine“
- Steffan Peddie, who hosted the night and was equally funny!
- Charlotte Reay, fabulous singer and SLT2B
- Janet Speight, Chair of NETA, who gave a very moving presentation
- The amazing Julie Carr herself!
- The audience, who were game for all the tom-foolery and fundraising stunts that Steffan Peddie threw at them!
Giving Voice Song
My contribution was to bridge the information-giving and entertainment parts of the evening with my “Giving Voice” ukulele song. (See previous blog post: May 2014 – International Communication Project Month of Action #ICP2014 #ukulele).
My Mild Aphasia
I keep meaning to write about my own recent experience of mild aphasia and more than usual general slow-wittedness. This was due to the combined effects of severe sepsis that led to a heart attack, a period of TIAs (transient ischaemic attacks aka mini-strokes), three operations under general anaesthetic in three days and much morphine to kill the pain. The effects of a TIA are short-lived so I imagine the main reasons were the after-effects of the general anaesthetic and post-sepsis syndrome.
Janet’s presentation was a reminder of my own efforts not so very long ago. My word-finding problems have almost resolved and I am nearly, but not quite, back up to speed. I still need to sleep a lot. If I do not then I slow down and get a bit befuddled until I catch up again.
My life was saved last October/November at the RVI (Newcastle’s Royal Victoria Infirmary). I was already confused and was very ill before I went in. For several months afterwards it felt like my brain was a bucket of treacle. Constructing a sentence was a slow and conscious activity, a laboured process of dredging individual words like rusty old nuts and bolts from the murky, viscous depths. Most often, a word eluded me altogether. Sometimes the wrong word materialised, a near miss, not quite on target.