Marching on through adversity

It's been a year of two halves! Work and pleasure, hope and desperation, health and then sickness. Our marriage vows have certainly been put to the test all at once in ways we could never have imagined.

Last year, between March and November, we were both working pretty much full time and looking forward to a couple of spells of travel abroad.

The first was a 'Camino' which we had been planning forever; the walk of a lifetime and something we had talked about for years. In May, our plans were to come to fruition, as we had planned a two week, 248km walk, from Porto in Portugal, to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Our backpacks were packed and we were looking forward to leaving the working world behind to spend two weeks just walking and talking and enjoying being at peace in nature.

In July we had planned a trip to Madeira, Porto Santo and the Azores, travelling on small planes and boats and looking forward to hopping between the islands, seeing the sights and enjoying the tradition, culture and cuisine on each.

We were then looking forward to the arrival of a new grandchild in October, and I was planning on flying out to Bermuda to help out for a few weeks whilst Tony was going to stay at home and continue working, topping up the coffers and planning our next round of trips.

All good and well, and we did indeed work a lot, as well as enjoying two fantastic trips, to Portugal, completing our Camino in twelve days and travelling around the Madeira and the islands of its archipelago, as planned.

A wet and unseasonably cold summer in the UK (no camping and only one BBQ) was followed by more work in September, and we started to plan our next trips: back to Madeira for a week in January with our son and his girlfriend, followed by holidays exploring Egypt and then crossing the equator to follow the South African Garden Route.

In October, our beautiful grandson Rowan was born, a baby brother for a very excited Tilly. We were elated, and I was itching to get out to Bermuda to meet him and to spend some time helping out our daughter Alex, and playing with Tilly.

But that was when our luck turned, with set-back after set-back. It started with a simple cold - mine - at the beginning of October, which Tony caught. Unfortunately, rather than getting better, he developed a chest infection which then brought on pneumonia and pulmonary oedema. Hospitalised for several days, he then returned home to recover and regain his health and fitness. However this was not to be as he then suffered an eye stroke in November followed by another stroke at the beginning of December. As if this wasn't bad enough, I was in Bermuda at the end of November when the stroke occurred (having delayed my trip until we thought he was on the mend) and had to frantically dash back across the Atlantic when I got the news.

Over the next few months we had to get used to a cruel new normal. Tony had been left partially sighted and with distorted visual perception. This, along with several hospitalisations, had left him somewhat shell-shocked and understandably, he was uncertain about what he would be able to achieve going forward.

The next couple of months were difficult to say the least, as he worked hard on his physical fitness whilst constantly fighting off the mental demons of negativity. His new disability had robbed him of his independence, and to a large extent his sense of self: he was unable to drive or work; he had difficulty recognising the space he was occupying and had no sense of direction; he struggled to read and could make no sense of maps, websites or written instructions; he had a left-sided neglect which meant that he couldn't see anything on his left without physically turning his head, and his depth perception left him struggling to understand and navigate the path in front of him. Although visual tests confirmed that his eyes were working perfectly well, the information received was not being processed effectively which left him feeling dizzy, disorientated, often frustrated and sometimes frightened.

Walking and travel had become such a big part of our lives and it was hard to imagine a new life without either. Tony was always the one who planned our holidays. He enjoyed the process of looking at maps, working out routes and finding exactly the right accommodation; even the idea of planning a trip now felt overwhelming and unattainable to him and what was the point if he could neither see properly or understand what was in front of his eyes. In those early days, it was difficult enough to imagine us going out walking again together, even less to imagine him being able to go out alone, and this was difficult for us both to process and accept.

We did go ahead with our planned trip to Madeira at the end of January, but everything about it was difficult and extremely stressful and it certainly didn't give us a lot of hope for the future. When we got back home, Tony hit a new depth of despair, and at this point my concerns for his mental health massively outweighed those for his physical health - words I never thought I would say. It was only after many appointments with the doctor and the mental health team, and a huge amount of courage on his part, that he slowly started to pick himself up and move forward.

And so it felt that we began to climb up out of the abyss that we both felt had swallowed us; not on a steady incline - there were bad days along the way - but now it finally felt as though we were moving in the right direction.

We started to walk again, together at first and then, when he was confident that he had mastered a route, Tony started to go out on his own. He talked about how disorientating and frightening it was at first, but he gradually managed to put mind over matter and the results were encouraging.

The first walk was a short clockwise circuit from the house, over the bridge and around the church. It took less than twenty minutes, but felt like a huge achievement. We walked it many times together before he did it alone, and once he was comfortable with that route, we started a new one.

The second route was up the lane and across the field, skirting the reservoir before returning over Calf Hill and down the hill back home - about forty minutes. This route had more opportunities for error, but again, we walked it together until he was comfortable to do it alone.

The third route, which we are still working on together, goes through the village and across the fields up to White Hill. Turning left onto the lane at the top, we then walk across Padiham Heights and cross to Black Hill before descending down the footpath to Dean Farm and returning along the lower lane of the valley, a walk of about a couple of hours.

These walks have not been without incident; often the brightness can make walking difficult for him and sunglasses are needed; on darker days it can appear very dim and this can also make navigation difficult. But the main thing is that he is brave enough to try and is regaining the hope that walking can, once again, be an enjoyable part of our lives.

We have also completed a few longer walks, tentatively stepping out together. We have walked along the hill path from Sabden to Whalley, and we have also walked over the Nick of Pendle to Pendleton - no mean feat on that steep, rocky and often boggy path.

Our biggest achievement so far, however, has been to climb Pendle Hill; a circuit of 13.25km over some tricky terrain, and I can't find the words to describe how proud I am of him - not just for completing the walk, but for having the courage and resilience to even consider it in the first place.

And so we march out into March with a trip to Ingleton planned. We are going to climb Ingleborough Peak, and if anything, I feel that the physical success he has achieved so far has given him a positive mental boost and a much needed injection of confidence.

I don't want to underplay the difficulties that face him on a day to day basis, and there are bound to be bumps in the road moving forward, but I am beginning to have hope that this new life we have been thrown into can be one that we can learn to love again, together.