In the ‘80s, John created the first regular column about the burgeoning London stand-up scene. In 1990 he wrote a book about its effect on the Edinburgh Festival: “Comics: A Decade of Comedy at the Assembly Rooms.” That year he also devised and ran a live topical stand-up team show at The London Comedy Store, The Edge. (It was destroyed in 2020!) In 2009 John was diagnosed with RRMS, which cut short his main job as a TV casting director for “Black Books,” “My Family,” et al. Now, John writes “Fall Down Get Up Again,” an irreverent journey with MS, and also serves as MS News Today Forums co-moderator.
My sleep schedule, according to mathematics, leaves me 11 hours — so what’s my problem? My current ultra-efficient carers arrive at 9:30 a.m. and usually get me into the wet room 15 minutes later. Maybe 20 if my bottom has been misbehaving. It’s been something of a miscreant ever since…
Ah yes, I’m starting this week’s column with a headline that’s a conundrum (that is, if the ol’ editor lets me keep it). That’s because I’m starting with a slang word. I’ve checked, and it seems that the main slang word for diarrhea both in the U.K. (where I…
Who’d have thought of the following shenanigans? It only took four days of constant badgering to fix. Last summer brought exceptional (actually, likely to be semi-regular from now on) hot weather in the U.K., with parts of England surpassing 100 F for the very first time. This caused a…
So I’m back home. Four months’ worth of bureaucracy lay in front of me. In truth, quite a wodge had grown before I went into the hospital. Hey, I hadn’t been well in the months leading up to my hospitalization late last year. Thankfully Saint Jane — my…
I’m worried that my tales of recovery may have gotten a tad boring, so let me liven things up with the weirdest thing I now have to live with. The head of my “thing” has been sliced half an inch vertically. By “thing,” I of course mean my penis! And…
Ceilings. Oh yeah, I’ve become quite the expert on ceilings. If you spend much of your life prostrate, it’s hard not to. The very first column I wrote for Multiple Sclerosis News Today opened with this very topic. As it was an unsolicited spec piece, I was pleasantly…
COVID-19 had finally left me. Its only trace was a pair of slimy hands. For a month, I requested a towel in bed to wipe them dry. My wife, Jane, told me my hands were fine; my phone’s screen, however, didn’t agree. As my companion in the hospital…
It transpired that I’d gone and fallen at the worst possible time, landing myself in the midst of a major news story. I’d been aware that what had toppled me was most probably my persistent urinary tract infections (UTIs). They were different and numerous, and acted like allied combatants…
If you haven’t read last week’s column (ah, another discerning nonreader), all you need to know is that I’m in a pain sandwich very much of my own making. And this was an improvement! I’d rather be turned into a hefty snack by a Molift Raiser and a…
Things had been more than dodgy for the past three days. My right shoulder had gone into complete spasm, and even diazepam couldn’t relax it. I’d also upped my antibiotics as instructed. Nada. As ever, I shouldered on (a naff play on words already, John? Dearie me), stuck on…
If you noticed my sudden disappearance, it wasn’t because I was sacked. Surprising, I know. Just “MS MIA” — missing in action with multiple sclerosis. While raving in the hospital, I was suddenly moved to my own private room. In Britain’s National Health Service (NHS), this could only mean…
In the five years I’ve been tapping away at this multiple sclerosis (MS) column for MS News Today, I’ve so far written during one FIFA World Cup. My oft used trope is that “it’s football, not soccer,” for our many U.S. readers. That is, at least, how…
First off, let me apologize for my penchant for using hip literary references. Not everyone is aware of Joseph Heller’s seminal satirical novel published in 1961, which spawned the book’s title of “Catch-22” as a quick-fire phrase to describe anything that is nearly impossible to get out of. Our…
You get used to … Hold on there, matey boy. Be honest and write “I.” This column has a reputation for brutal honesty (I’m sure someone has referred to it that way over the past five years), so don’t get all coy now that you’re not the center of medical…
The call from my urologist’s office came far later than I was expecting, in regards to my long-term chronic urinary tract infection (UTI). The call came in on my home phone, but luckily, someone else was around to answer it. I long ago gave up trying to answer that…
Ah, one of the classic setups for a Christmas cracker joke. Others include, “Why did the chicken cross the road?” and “How many ____ does it take to change a lightbulb?” While these gags are popular in Britain, I’m not sure if they exist in the rest of the English-speaking…
“You married a husband and ended up with a child,” quipped I. It was first thing Sunday morning, and I was addressing my wife of 30 years, Jane. She stood with blue, latex, hypoallergenic gloves on her hands, ready to deal with my sopping wet pad. More on that…
Ah, after living the majority of the last three years of my life indoors, I do tend to spark conversation with my carers. But if I keep quiet, they’re more than happy to do so, too, as they repetitively deal with the rigmarole of getting me ready every morning. It’s…
There are moments in life that have surprising effects on us. I’ve had two. The first was when I was about 9, and my mother informed me that my headmaster had been told I’d disappeared after school. Fair enough in hindsight. I presume she’d phoned the police as well, but…
The constant light in my cell burned through my eyelids all night. Every night for days now. Prostrate on my back, I couldn’t even turn over to get away from it. Why me? I knew nothing. Wasn’t part of any organization. Had no power. Couldn’t influence anyone. How did I…
Once upon a time, children, there was a very grumpy bear who kept a low-level, incessant growl going all day. And often, well into the night, too. If his family were lucky, this would only last about a week, but usually it would last a lot longer. He was snappy…
Note: The second half of this column details digestive symptoms that may make readers uncomfortable. In the five years that I’ve written this “irreverent journey with multiple sclerosis (MS),” quoting from my very own bio at the foot of this column, I think I’ve only covered this “quiet”…
It was a glorious summer for those of us lucky enough not to be engulfed by forest fires, face crop destruction by severe drought, or have to manage the debilitating effects of multiple sclerosis (MS), which are exacerbated by crippling heat. Over 60% of people with MS say…
My weight went off the scale when my multiple sclerosis (MS) meant that I could no longer safely get on the scale. This was probably about four years ago. In them there halcyon days (for me, anyway), I still shared our second-floor bedroom (first-floor, for those of us here…
This headline is a bit of a cheat. OK, it’s a big cheat. When you’ve been writing a column for five years, there’s immense satisfaction when you’ve finished it each week. There’s even more when it’s passed through the editing process. Sometimes this can get somewhat tricky. The trouble is…
Now, I know the phrase “I’m going to do my own research” has become a catch-all for conspiracy theorists who are out to prove spurious nonsense, merely by finding even more spurious websites they can whirl down like Alice falling through that there looking glass. Proper research costs serious money…
I only had my glasses for two years, yet reading anything on my phone was now nigh impossible. Still, it did cure my Facebook and Twitter addiction. Yer, yer, I’m old. (I’m 64, you know.) Sure, I’ve written this before — surely that’s a free pass for us aged folk.
In December 2019, I was stopped in my tracks, or rather wheels, as I was about to have my third infusion of Ocrevus (ocrelizumab), the multiple sclerosis disease-modifying therapy (DMT) that I’d been taking every six months for the past year. My neurologist had decided just a few…
No, it wasn’t my good wife, Jane, suddenly insisting we just had to take a break. Spontaneity is no longer a question for me. We can only go somewhere that has both a hoist and a profiling bed. Never mind a Molift and a shower chair. It’s…
Monday Unlike Prince, my Monday wasn’t manic. It was barreling along quite sedately until my wife, Jane, casually noted, “Remember, you’ve got a dental appointment on Wednesday morning.” Er, no, I hadn’t remembered. It was somewhat churlish of me, as I’d been waiting for this appointment for nigh on…
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