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In July 2005, I fell off my bicycle in France. Luckily, I was wearing a helmet. Even so, I was knocked into a coma, where I stayed for several weeks. I got flown back to England in a Lear Jet (my husband was very happy that I'd got us some travel insurance!); I spent 8 months in hospital, and 18 months off work.

My husband used to come to see me in hospital. He'd had a ponytail when I married him. Where had it gone? "Pam, I had it cut off years ago, when I started doing triathlons. I told you that yesterday, and the day before..."

It was lovely to see our toddler. But why did Rob keep bringing this little baby into hospital with him? I mean, she's lovely, but where is her mum? "Pam, as I've told you already (many times), she's *ours*!". I love her to pieces, now, but I don't have any memory of her being a little baby; of me being pregnant that second time; or of us moving house, so that we had room for her.

The thing is, though, that I am sure I'm really really lucky. OK, so I fell off my bicycle; I have really bad co-ordination on my right side (and my handwriting is appalling!); I am missing several years of memory; my voice is still horribly blurry; and I am 'blind' (only officially. I'd call myself 'partially sighted', but the doctors say I'm blind). But I survived. Things could be far, far worse.

Of course, I was unlucky to have it happen, but I am so lucky to have recovered as well as I have.

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Wow, a really good attitude to have. I have lived with my injury for 20 years and don't remember very much before it happened (I was only 11) so it's all I know. I still get frustrated at times, and to my shame I rarely think of me surviving as me bring lucky (although I am very happy with my life, and I like myself), I tend to focus on the negative side of my injury when I do think about it (which isn't that often any more). You know, like my challenges rather than my blessings. I love your perspective, I need to get me some of that!


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