A good turnout today...

... at the monthly coffee morning at Neurosupport. A few dozen people, representing a wide cross-section of the conditions recognised by the centre (any new ones are researched and accomodated). It's always interesting, as once you're not fooled by
the usually totally "normal" appearances, you can start to appreciate the true individual wackiness of each person, often accompanied by a keen sense of humour. A stroke victim said she's a cheap date because she can appear drunk even before taking any alcohol; an MS sufferer challenged her to appear more drunk than her; someone else shared happy recollections of destroying an entire supermarket aisle with her mobility scooter as a result of her epilepsy; a guy whose skull had collided with a double decker bus said cannabis helps. How we laugh.

Afterwards a lovely lady Stella, who smiles and gives hugs a lot, invited me to join her at the Monday lunchtime drop-in at the Quaker centre, so as I've never been there I agreed, although in my defence Stella is someone hard to refuse, being a 50-something determined sometime-hippie, ex-Greenham-common, ex-multiple-jailbird for breach of the peace, before her massive stroke 12 and a half (she insists on the important half) years ago.The Quaker centre is a bright well-designed modern building near the historic Bluecoat Arts Centre, and is open to all. On Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays the cafe is open to all-comers who want a quiet hot drink and to chat or read or eat their own food. There we met Julia, another Neurosupport regular who missed today's meeting there but likes to get out somewhere away from the crowds. Another 50-something courageous lady, Julia is slim, elegant and attractive with immaculate hair and makeup and a beautiful smile. She had a subarachnoid haemorrhage (like me) 10 years ago, but is nowhere near as lucky, being left with a paralysed right side (she wears around her ankle a box of magic electronics to stimulate the muscles of her right leg enough to enable her to walk with a stick. Like Stella she has profound expressive dysphasia - difficulty in communicating - while understanding everything around her and what is said to her. Intelligence positively sparkles from their eyes, and they happily chatted in the only way they can, Stella's short phrases punctuated by "no - not that", "bugger" and swatting the air in frustration. Sitting with them was a surreal but strangely humbling experience.

Before we left the pictured couple came in - they were at Neurosuppport earlier and had gone shopping for engagement rings, which were still in the boxes. We all said they should put them on right away, which they did, taking it in turns to go down on one knee, express their love and place the ring on the other's finger. The lady (I forgot her name) has a history of unhappy and abusive marriages, the last of which failed after (and probably caused) her first stroke 6 years ago. Her fiancee has only known her with a disability, and supports and cares for her with love which is apparent to all. These are just three examples of the people who use Neurosupport, all with remarkable stories of courage yet judged and rejected by society in subtle or explicit ways daily.

I believe I was gifted what happened to me in order to see and understand this, and hope that my few unadequate words can, in a small way, help people to understand about that unfortunate and largely invisible group of people who are everywhere, probably within your own circle of friends or extended family.

Love and light to all of them.