Journey of Self Discovery – Gemma

~Random Punishment Selector~

This was my first attempt at a set punishment from the program. See the first two punishments? They were fine, 320 and 390 was about 10 minutes a piece with the machine set on max. and I was all good with that. The third one, 430 with the belt slapper, let me just tell you about that nasty little implement. It’s lethal! Stings like nothing else and leaves pitted marks and welts on your bottom for hours afterwards! So not quite as ‘all good with that’ as the first two punishments. But still feeling it, and I was already building up some excitement and dread for what was coming.

Now, the fourth punishment, OMG! 1500 swats with the hairbrush? Really? Jeez, I want pain not absolute torture! That is the equivalent of roughly 45 minutes with the machine on max power! F*@K!

No matter, I was going for it! I needed a spanking and the random punishment selector had provided a format for one. It felt good not really having any control over what would be used or how many spanks I would take. More like being spanked than spanking myself. I set up the machine and got myself ready for a really hard spanking.

I have a new checkered mini skirt that I wanted to try out for a spanking scene so I set my bedroom up with the necessary implements and I stripped naked. Over the years I have worked out that wearing a bra is basically a complete waste of time and my puppies refuse to stay inside their restraint anyway so of late I have dispensed with the article completely when preparing for a spanking, preferring to bounce freely and on full show should there be an unsuspecting window cleaner about his business. I never draw the curtains, I don’t see why I should.

I pulled on a pair of stockings and attached them to my suspender belt, I dispensed with the need for panties too, no point they were coming off again in a matter of minutes and I didn’t have the luxury of time to linger over dressing, not if I was going to get the full spanking done!  I slipped my feet into my 4″ black stilettos and stood and inspected my bottom framed by the suspenders in the mirror. It was very creamy and nicely rounded and just begging to be spanked! The spanking from a few days before hadn’t even left a mark! I’ve never had a caning before where there wasn’t still some evidence a few days later that it had happened! Just goes to show how hard Graham actually caned me in the past! I miss Graham! I love the way my mind works when I’m setting up for a spanking. I get flashbacks from previous sessions and before I have completed my set up routine I am moist and my tummy is curling with anticipation and dread in equal measure.

I was in the zone now, the frisson of excitement curled through my belly and down to my pussy making her throb in anticipation. I was already moist and I could smell my sex, the scent was filling my senses and making me even more turned on than I was already. I slipped into my mini skirt and once again inspected my image in the mirror. There is something very sexy indeed about a woman only half dressed with her naked breasts and taught hard nipples on show. I tweaked them hard and flicked them a little just to be sure they were singing the same tune as my pussy. 

The mineral oil was sitting on the dresser waiting for me, and I applied liberal amounts to my cheeks and thighs and then a good covering for the butter paddle. I placed two pillows on the edge of the side of the bed facing the window and I positioned myself over the high mound. This made my bottom raise up very high and I slid the mini skirt up and rested it above my hips and tucked the hem into the back of my suspender belt. I was ready for a hard, fast spanking with a very painful paddle. 

I prepared my bottom with a warm up hand spanking for 5 minutes to each cheek and thighs and then I positioned myself in front of the butter paddle and switched the machine on. CRACK! The first smack landed then a second later the next one came in and set up a sting across both cheeks, I moaned deeply as the first flush of blood raised up and bloomed underneath the tender skin. CRACK it landed flush against my cheek again and this time it gripped my bottom and stuck to the mineral oil for a second before releasing it. It felt like I had been bitten and I moaned even more deeply. The machine arm was swinging again, and I adjusted my position so this time it landed against my thighs, it is such a small paddle but it packs a real wallop and it caught my thighs full on and I moved and jumped as the next one landed and nipped at my pussy lips as it scorched my skin with a stinging blow. I yelped and rolled my hips and waited a second or two to release the throbbing that was already beginning to build in my bottom. My pussy was already throbbing delightfully anyway and my bottom needed time to catch up.

Before long the machine was paddling my bottom furiously and eliciting yelps and howls and moans and wails with each smack of that paddle. My thighs were throbbing and stinging, my cheeks were turning a beautiful deep red and I continued to hold the position and reset the machine for a further 5 minutes on max power.  Ten minutes in total but the paddling had produced a wonderfully hot and stinging throbbing bottom and thighs. I was happy with the blush that covered my twin globes.

I gave myself 5 minutes corner time to allow the throbbing to really settle in, the next part of the spanking was with the Jokari Paddle and it was too big to go in the machine arm, so I was going to be swinging it myself which made this spanking section a counted one. 390 spanks. I figured 10 more wasn’t going to kill me so I rounded it up to an even 400. 200 each cheek.

I moved to the side of the bed this time, which positioned me right in front of the window and the open curtains. I get a little thrill out of the idea that anyone walking along the top of the road could see into my bedroom as they walk by. My house sits on an incline and the bedroom is actually kind of level with the road way. Buses go past every couple of hours and it’s occupants could get an eyeful if they happen to glance at my house. I don’t care. My tummy is curling with anticipation again and my pussy is throbbing happily away, the heat covering my bottom is lovely and the deep throbbing has really taken hold. I bend over the bed, tuck my skirt in at the back again and raise the jokari paddle. It lands with a real Crack across both cheeks and stings as it grips the twin surfaces. I quickly deliver ten strokes and count out loud as I go. I swap hands and deliver 10 more. My bottom is stinging painfully now, and I have begun to grimace as the spanks land with unerring accuracy across both cheeks. After the first 100 spanks I have started to hop about a little and wriggle under the onslaught, I aim for my thighs with the next sets of 10 each side and damn that hurts! My thighs had settled right down from the earlier spanking and this 20 was a shock for them. They are throbbing hottly and I wince as I deliver 20 more to the same areas. At the 200 mark I am beginning to wish I had rounded the number down. That final 10 might actually break my bottom. I am now in a world of pain as I continue to rain down spanks on both cheeks and thighs in equal measure and the sting and bite increases with each stroke until my thighs feel like they are on fire and I have twin hard spots on my cheeks which are now a lovely shade of deep, deep red. I continue with the spanking until I reach the 400th spank and I collapse on the bed, panting heavily and groaning at the heat emanating from my bottom and thighs. As usual, pussy has now gone to sleep. She only likes the heavy throbbing feeling, not the, ‘you’ve had your ass bitten everywhere’ kind of pain!

I stand up and walk to the corner of the room for 5 minutes corner time, more to rest my arms than anything else, no way can my bottom feel any worse than it does already! I was wrong of course, it can, and it does as a very heavy throbbing sets off in a tight band all across my bottom and my thighs! I just want to sit in a bath full of cold ice water right now to cool of my burning hot cheeks!

I finish the corner time and check the instructions from Anime and groan out loud when I read 430 strokes of the belt slapper, Gemma laying on the bed. I position the spanking machine so that it can spank me while I lay down on the bed and I attach the belt slapper. I am dreading this part, 430 strokes equates to about 12 minutes on the machine and I dutifully set the first 5 minutes and position myself as I switch it on.

Now, this position is a new one for me with the machine, I have always bent over the end of the bed which by default tightens my bottom and thighs. Lying down means my cheeks are plump and soft and when that nasty little slapper lands it gets a good deep spank biting into my cheeks. I howled and then HOWLED again as the slapper went about it’s work of turning my bottom purple, I wriggle up the bed a little to get a different spot on my cheeks and some to cover my thighs and OMG I must be absolutely barking mad to have even thought of moving! The belt slapper has now become my arch nemesis and I am being slapped everywhere because I’m jumping and rolling my hips trying to find a spot that won’t hurt as much. Finally the first 5 minutes are over and I lie prone on the bed sobbing. My bottom feels like it is on fire and I don’t think I can take another 7 minutes of this. I finally stand up and go and stand in the corner for 10 minutes. I am so sore I don’t know where to put myself to relieve the pain. Pussy has long since gone to sleep so no distraction there again. I can see my reflection in the mirror to the side of me and my thighs and cheeks are positively glowing bright red! A stirring of arousal arrows down to my groin as I gently stroke my cheeks and watch my hand smooth over the blistered heated skin. I get lost in the image for a little while until the arousal has turned into a heavenly throbbing in my pussy and I can cope again. 7 minutes left on the clock so I had better get on. I reposition myself on the bed and reset the machine for 5 minutes. This time, I don’t lie flat, I raise my knees slightly and crouch on the bed so that my cheeks are pulled taught. I may as well try every position! I switch the machine on and wait for the first slap to land. It does but I think my cheeks are still numb from the first onslaught and the next 5 minutes are about topping up on that numbness. I can still feel it, but it doesn’t hurt the way it did. I turn the dial again for the final 2 minutes and maintain my position. My fingers are cupping my pussy to keep the throb alive and well and I am feeling amazing!

Finally the belt slapper section of the punishment is over and I stand up and retrieve the slapper from the machine and replace it with the dreadful hairbrush. I am almost like an automaton at this point. I’m going through the motions without a real thought in my head for what I am doing or what is to come. What is to come is 45 minutes of a hairbrush spanking on maximum power with only a 5 minute corner time break in the middle.

I take my earlier position and spray mineral oil over my cheeks and thighs and they immediately begin to sting and burn like crazy. I am howling before I have even had the first of the hairbrush strokes!

What the hell did I do that for? The hairbrush lands as I wonder about my lack of sanity. I squeal as the wood connects with my cheek and sticks to the oil biting deeply before lifting off and coming back for another go. I set up my swaying motion so that both cheeks receive equal spanks and my thighs too. In honesty, the belt slapper had done its work and although my bottom was very, very sore and hot and throbbing the spanks from the hairbrush were not as severe as the first one that landed. I didn’t take the break in the middle, I continued with the whole 45 minutes and called myself every stupid name under the sun for putting in too high a multiplier for the hairbrush spanking on the Anime punishment selector.

I had learned a very severe lesson, or rather my bottom and thighs had.

I was happy though. The last time I had a spanking like this, Graham had been delivering it! The only thing missing was the tears. It didn’t make me cry. I did manage to make myself very happy immediately afterwards though and not just once. I lay prone on my bed waiting to come down from the last amazing orgasm. I had 20 minutes to pull myself together before my normal life took over again.

Finally I sat up and climbed off the bed and stood in front of the full length mirror. I lifted my skirt and looked at my glistening pussy in the mirror, I ran my fingers through the slick wet folds and soothed my very sensitive clit for a moment and savoured the deep throb that was still present, then I turned and looked over my shoulder at my throbbing deep red bottom and thighs and I smiled.

All images courtesy of the Internet except the butter paddle and the jokari paddles. They belong to me.

I have been tripping around on the internet again and I found a lovely spanking website. https://billenkoek.info/ Spanking! Joost the owner of said website is a lovely man who has decided spanking should not be vilified and he is educating people one visitor at a time about the pleasures of a painful spanking. I found his website thoroughly entertaining and I think I turned into a bit of a stalker for a little while. I was on there constantly, he has this https://billenkoek.info/fun/wheel-of-punishment/ wheel of punishment that when spun is the most fun I’ve had with spanking in a long time! Go on, click on the link and give it a try! You have to do what the wheel tells you though!

On the first spin of this lovely colourful little wheel, I got 100 spanks of the hairbrush on my bare bottom! Well, who am I to argue? (I know, I know, I do and frequently but not this time!) So over the end of my bed I went, skirt hiked up around my waist, stockings and suspenders perfectly framing my already bare bottom, (yes folks, I’ve gone back to being bare assed again, it is a much preferable state to be in) and I sprayed a little water over my cheeks to assist the brush to really grip. Damn did that brush really grip!

The first swat of the brush landed and I could feel it grip the moist surface of my bottom like it was covered in glue! The sting was sharp and the bloom that followed was delightfully fast especially as swat number two on the opposite cheek was now swiftly catching up in the blooming stakes. I spanked my cheeks alternating from one to the other, yelping with each swat now as they came hard and fast as I gave myself no time to adjust to the sting and just kept on spanking. It wasn’t long before both cheeks and my pussy were throbbing happily and all too soon I had reached the end of the 100 swats. I was actually disappointed that the spanking was over but I stood and walked over to the mirror to inspect my bottom. It was glowing really nicely but I wasn’t in that much pain. I suppose after being spanked by Stuart and co I had become accustomed to a much stronger harder spanking than I could deliver for myself. Oh well, I could always double up? Back to the wheel for a second punishment! 6 of the best with the cane on a bare bottom!

Oh. Okay. I was less than enthusiastic about this but up to the bedroom I went, skirt hiked over my hips and I bent over the end of the bed once again. I needed the machine for this, it delivers the cane much better than I could and so I set up the machine for 1 minute which is roughly 34 strokes. Now you see why I was less than enthusiastic? I can’t set it for anything less than 1 minute so I was already going to get much more than I had bargained for!

I switched the machine on and assumed the position. Whoosh! OW! OW! OW! What the hell happened there? Jeez! I had forgotten to turn down the power! It was on max and I couldn’t change it once the machine was operating, so I gritted my teeth and got on with it. Serves me right really, I should pay more attention to what I’m doing! By the time 10 strokes had been delivered straight across both cheeks I was howling and jumping about which of course brought the cane swiftly across the back of my thighs branding their creamy colour with a vivid red line. Before I could move the second stroke had landed just above the first, right across the sit spot and I confess I squealed loudly. Obviously to no avail as there was no one there to take pity on me and stop for a moment. The strokes just kept on coming and honestly, that was the longest minute in the history of minutes! Finally the machine stopped and I rubbed my poor bottom and thighs furiously. I went over and inspected the damage in the mirror and was surprised at the lack of markings there. There were plenty of red, angry welts but no clean, sharp red pinstripes I was used to having when being caned by Graham. No matter, my pussy was now very moist and heated and the throbbing in my cheeks and thighs was building nicely. I decided I had had sufficient spanking to keep me going for a day or two at least and I returned to my work space in the kitchen.

I sat down on the hard chair and my bottom complained a little but once again I was reminded that I had felt much worse after a spanking from either of the men. Also, the happy throb that had been singing just a few minutes before had subsided and miss pussy had gone to bloody sleep! This just wouldn’t do. I went back to Joost’s site and I spun that wheel once more. 50 spanks with a wooden spoon, bare bottom. Okay, this was more likely to hurt on top of what I had already done, but just for good measure I spun the wheel once again. 100 strokes with the paddle, bare bottom.

So 50 with a wooden spoon, 100 with a jokari paddle and I was now sure my bottom would be closer to feeling how it should after a spanking.

By the time I had finished these two sets of spankings my bottom was singing a different tune completely! It throbbed painfully, my pussy was very quiet which was quite normal at this stage because I recognised my brain telling me it could have done with the pleasurable distraction right now. Finally I had achieved a spanking I could feel for a few hours at least!

The pent up frustration had finally dissipated somewhat and I was once again in my happy playtime place feeling completely content and so of course I went back to visit Joost’s website while I was feeling all warm and fuzzy. During that visit I found a link on his page to the https://animeotk.com/punishment.php Anime Random Punishment Selector!

Now this little piece of magic was a game changer for me. Who needs a man or a woman for that matter, (I’ve said it before, I’m not fussy,) to spank you when you have this little program at your fingertips? Check it out people, spanking just took a whole new turn into a trip down the rabbit hole again, but this time it was full of wonderful ways to spank yourself and also a multiplier so I didn’t have to set my own counts just get the program to do it for me. Oh yes, I would live to regret that happy decision, I can tell you, or closer to the point, my bottom would, but that’s another story!

~Random Punishment Selector~

To be continued…

So, after the Boy’s first grand mal seizure on the basketball court, and the doctor on calls subsequent none diagnosis of cause, we spent the next 6 weeks backwards and forwards to the GP clinic to see what had happened. The GP was less than helpful, (there’s a shocker for you!) mainly because diagnosis of epilepsy appears to be above his pay grade. that shouldn’t have stopped him from referring the Boy to a specialist though! That event only took place after I went postal on the GP’s head after the Boy suffered another seizure.

This one was at college. He had just come out of his lecture, and as he pushed out into the hallway he collapsed and fell from his chair, his head hit the floor this time and he cut his forehead open. He was in seizure for 15 minutes and the lecturer called the paramedics and myself.

I arrived at the same time as the paramedics and between us we agreed that the boy had to go to hospital because of the bang to his head. They put him in the back of the ambulance and took him to our local hospital for assessment. I followed in the car. Desperate, panicking, worried to death he would come round to a sea of nameless faces and he would panic.

In the event, he came round as the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the paras were brilliant as usual and kept him calm and comfortable until I got there. They hadn’t tried to over explain anything, they just kept saying, ‘It’s alright son, your mum is right behind us and she will be there as soon as we open the doors.’ It was enough to keep him calm.

He was kept in hospital for 3 days to do X-rays on his head where he had banged it, and also to run tests to find out what the cause of the collapse was. Nobody was talking about Epilepsy. It never got mentioned.

This situation continued unabated, unmedicated and undiagnosed for three years. The boy finally received an appointment with the epilepsy consultant almost 3 years after his first grand mal seizure.

On the day of the appointment the boy requested that I come in with him because he would struggle to explain what happens because he is ‘out of it’ as he puts it. I agreed and we explained to the consultant that this was the reason I was in attendance. I could provide a clearer picture of what had been happening for the past two and a half years. There were two trainee doctors sat at the back of the room and we were asked if we minded them being present. We didn’t. In fact, I actively encourage more people to allow them to be present. It is how they learn best. First hand.

Throughout the whole explanation of 6 seizures over 2 years 7 fits a year, and 20 plus absences a month (very, very high number) that the boy had experienced, the consultant sat with his legs spread wide, his elbows resting on the arm of his chair, his finger steepled under his chin and his eyes closed. I actually thought he may have gone to sleep on us at one point. We persevered and catalogued each and every episode with as much detail as was humanly possible to give. we also gave back information on his hydrocephalus/shunt condition. At the end of it all we sat and waited for him to say something.

What he said made my head pop.

‘Well Sir, I confess, you are a bit of a mystery.’ He finally opened his eyes and looked at the boy. ‘None of what you describe can be attributed to epilepsy I’m afraid. This may pass in time, but I would be remiss in rushing towards a diagnosis that will hinder and therefore change your life forever.’ He was spinning his chair from side to side as he spoke.

I was shocked. I was dumbfounded. I wasn’t the only one. The two trainees sat behind me looked exceptionally confused at his declaration and one of them shook his head at me as if to disagree. I spoke quietly and clearly so as not to be misunderstood by the sleepy consultant.

‘So, what you are saying is, the boy categorically is not presenting with symptoms that are epileptic in nature or appearance? You are saying that presently, regardless of the health issues he is having, he can drive a vehicle? Is that right?’ I waited.

He glanced down his nose at me before he spoke. ‘Yes, I see no reason for the Boy not to continue with driving lessons! You should not be rushing towards a diagnosis of epilepsy for the young man Mrs Strong. It will dog him for the rest of his life and prevent him from doing such things as driving a vehicle, certain types of employment will be closed off to him, there is a great stigma attached to the condition because it is widely misunderstood and it must be declared on any kind of formal declaration. Do you really want that for your son?’ He looked smug. Obviously, this was his preferred choice of put down. Berate the mother for being too pushy, for wanting to diagnose her son with epilepsy just because she wanted it to be that condition. Oh! Silly me, of course that’s what I wanted for the boy! Of course I wanted the seizures and the fits and the absences to be epilepsy. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want that diagnosis? Even the trainee doctors thought the consultant was wrong.

Instead of going very large and postal on the consultant’s head I merely said, ‘Well, to coin your own phrase, You Sir are not a mystery at all, you are a pompous Ass of the first order and I am calling for a second opinion from a consultant who can stay awake and focused during a consultation. I also want a consultant who can dress himself properly in the mornings, you have a large rip in your pants crotch Sir and it is embarrassing to see you in such disarray. We shall take our leave now, but you can be sure, you will be hearing more from me if that second opinion is not forthcoming.’

I stood up turned to the trainee doctors and said, ‘I do hope you get to spend time with a real consultant at some point.’ With that I walked out and the Boy followed swiftly behind me.

Three months later we received an appointment to travel to Liverpool, Walton Hospital to see the second Epilepsy Consultant. We were all geared up for disappointment number 2. We went into the consultation with absolutely no expectations of a diagnosis, what we got was the biggest shock we had received to date.

The Consultant sat and heard us both out, we told him everything from start to finish about what had been happening with the Boy. The consultant nodded and asked questions occasionally, but generally he was alert and listened closely. At the end of it he asked us to come around to his side of the desk because he wanted to show us a scan of the Boy’s head when he was five years old against one taken a few months ago.

We did as he asked and he explained what we were seeing.

‘I see you have a Chiari Malformation at the base of your skull, and looking at these scans I can tell you it’s dormant and has been for a number of years. However, that coupled with the Hydrocephalus and the insertion of the Shunt meant that you were more likely than not to develop Epilepsy. Any kind of pressure on the brain can be a trigger. Your brain has been under constant assault because of your pre-existing conditions. I am sorry to tell you that you do indeed have Epilepsy. I want to start you on a course of medication that will control the fits and the seizures, it may not control the absences we shall have to wait and see.’

I was once again dumbfounded, so I asked. ‘I’m sorry, you were talking about the chiari malformation like we knew the Boy had one, how long has he had that for?’

The Consultant looked at me strangely and then shook his head, almost in despair. ‘You didn’t know about it?’ He asked quietly.

‘It’s the first time I have ever even heard of it.’ I said.

‘I have no idea why you both have not been told about this condition, it can be quite serious if not monitored regularly.’ He then addressed the Boy directly. ‘Fortunately it became dormant around about the time you reached 5 years of age from the appearance of the scans and the information I have on file, you should have been told about it, I can only apologise for the lack of forthcoming information. But to answer your question Mum, he has had a chiari malformation since birth.’ He was genuinely disgusted that we had not been told.

So, The boy had his diagnosis and also a pre-existing condition that we never knew about, he had his medication that would stop the fits and seizures, he had stopped his driving lessons immediately, for which he was most grateful. He hated driving, he said he never felt safe behind the wheel of a car. It was a relief to stop having to do it.

He has never, ever since then to present date, discussed the Chiari malformation with me, I think he has a mental block regarding that information. He doesn’t want another condition to add to the growing list of conditions he already has. I can’t say that I blame him. I can live without another one for the list too. The Chiari is dormant, I know what signs to look out for that would indicate it may be active again, but from what I understand the likelihood of that happening is very slim. It’s filed under, ‘nothing has changed, we just know more,’ and been put away.

Three years of hell stopped abruptly with the introduction of a tablet taken 4 times a day. The fits and seizures are largely stopped now although the boy suffers with a number of breakthrough absences every week. Usually brought on by stress.

It’s an ongoing situation.

All photos/images are courtesy of the Internet.

The regional team has two squads, Under 15’s and Under 19’s. All the players who are selected for the Under 15’s still have to compete in trials for a position on the Under 19’s squad when they turn 15. The boy took part in a number of trials and was successful in his bid to take a place on the Under 19’s squad.

Once again he was flying high and wheelchair basketball consumed our every waking minute! From the age of 12 to 19 he had 7 solid good years in the Junior squads, junior leagues, the main club division leagues and he was now training with the under 25’s Welsh International Squad. Life was fantastic for him.

When he turned eighteen and a half, his time with the junior squads came to an end but with a roll call of awards, gold medals, cups, silver medals, one bronze medal that he has no wish to talk about, and a host of other accolades from club level through to Sports awards recognition. He had found his direction in life and was content for the longest time to see where his dreams would lead him.

By this time, he had left school and was attending college full time, he had signed up for the sports science course and was doing well. Then, illness struck.

It was just 2 days before his 19th birthday and we had a club league match at home. He was strapping himself into his basketball chair and preparing himself for the match when he collapsed.

His body folded over double and he had what we now know to be his first Grand Mal seizure. At the time however, we thought he had blacked out. The blackout lasted 20 minutes. It ranks up there as the most terrifying 20 minutes of my life to date. We had no idea what had happened, why he had blacked out, (as we thought) and we were waiting for the paramedics to arrive.

They arrived 15 minutes after we called and they took him to the nearest hospital.

By the time we arrived at the hospital, the boy was coming around and he was panicking, confused, he didn’t know what day it was, where he was, what had happened or what time it was. I explained what had happened and he was completely confused. He kept saying how could he have collapsed at the match when it’s only Friday, and the match is on Saturday? He was so anxious a doctor gave him a mild sedative to calm him down and he went to sleep for the whole day.

The doctor was not very forthcoming with a diagnosis for the boy. He was leaning towards it being a one off event, caused primarily by the strapping on the Boy’s chair possibly being pulled too tightly and cutting off his circulation which had caused the black out which had possibly caused a bump to the head which had possibly caused the confusion and disorientation! They would keep him overnight for observation but they weren’t concerned about him really. It could happen to anyone.

What a load of absolute bollocks! It was after this statement I considered I was possibly dealing with an imbecile.

I stripped down the doctor’s diagnosis for him with reasoned thinking and practical knowledge regarding the strapping and first hand knowledge of the order of events. I explained that the straps on the chair are Velcro straps and are preset in the chair and can only be pulled to a certain tension. You can not pull them any tighter, they are there to provide safety and security but not to overly restrain. He has been using the same chair for 4 years, if they were too tight surely the lack of circulation would have reared its ugly head way before now? At the very least they would have left imprints on his legs and we would have been alerted to them being too tight. Therefore that could not be considered the cause. I also explained very patiently, that he did not bang his head, even when he tipped forward and his chair tipped up two other players caught him before he hit the floor. Therefore the none bang to the head could not have caused the subsequent confusion when he had come around. I also asked the doctor why he was blatantly ignoring the fact that the boy had been unconscious for 20 minutes, why he had suffered a full body lock down, why his bowels had evacuated and why he had no memory of Saturday’s events before the ‘blackout’? Saturday morning had not happened for the boy at all. He was convinced it was Friday.

The doctor’s answer? I’m sure it must have felt like 20 minutes to you, but it was probably only a few minutes in reality. These things do happen and we lose all sense of time ourselves brought on by shock.

Apparently, so do 45 other people who were present when the boy collapsed. Who could all attest to the blackout lasting 20 minutes. The paramedics could also attest to the fact that he had been unconscious for a minimum of 15 minutes before they arrived as proved by the time the call had been placed and the content of the conversation had between myself and the emergency services operator, they could also attest to the fact that it was a further 5 minutes before he came round in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Ergo, it was not a shock induced phenomenon where 45 people had lost the ability to measure time, it was in actual fact 20 minutes!

The paramedics had been more forthcoming with a possible diagnosis of an epileptic seizure, they said that the other symptoms pointed to it being a grand-mal seizure, body lock down, (none of his limbs would move) bowel evacuation and the length of time he was out was also indicative of epilepsy, not to mention the level of confusion and disorientation he had suffered. They had not ignored the other symptoms, they had taken into account all of the relevant medical background information I had provided them with. The red flag for them to look towards epilepsy being the cause was the fact that he had a shunt fitted and has hydrocephalus. Therefore they erred on the side of caution and brought him to the hospital, and now here we were dealing with an imbecile of the first order. I despaired.

24 hours later and the boy was back at home with me and appeared to be absolutely fine! The most astonishing thing that happened in this 24 hours was that the moron formerly known as his father actually came to the hospital to see him. This was the first time we had seen him since I had filed for divorce some 6 months previously.

I was exhausted mentally and physically and so did not put up an argument when he had appeared on the ward. In the event, the boy was quite pleased to see him and thought that his father might actually care a little bit after all.

Obviously the narcissist disproved this theory before too much time passed but for the time being it was a salve for the boy’s emotional distress and worry about his changing health and what it could mean for his future.

An appointment was made with the GP and the real fight to prove epilepsy was the cause, began.

I will say right now, this period of the boy’s life and health concerns are still ranking as the worst time we have gone through together and that was taking into account 13 surgical operations, countless months spent in hospital and loss of mobility all put together. He was utterly devastated by this latest development.

I began to spend a great deal more time worrying and a lot less time sleeping…

All photos courtesy of the internet except the trophy cabinet, that belongs to the boy.