This blog has presented a rare strain of writer's block for me.
When I was first asked to record my experiences of the Games, I struggled to find words to fill the white space and now when the time comes for a last post I have too much to say.
The week felt like a month in the best possible way. It was filled with nerves and shiny objects and happy moments too many to mention.
It has been surreal too. As an event it was a strange eye-opener. I am relatively new to sickness and this week immersed me in the transplant/dialysis scene in a way that I had avoided thus far.
The transitions of the last few years are hard to take at times. A leap - no, a plummet - from being healthy to being chronically ill, to now being categorised as some class of an athlete of all things!
This was a week to search frantically for some pause button and take stock. But of course there wasn't time for that. There was running to do.
The last contests in Santry yesterday brought the competition phase to a close but no sporting event is complete without a good dinner dance in a hotel suite with profiteroles for dessert.
The Gala Ball was fantastic. Some healthy humans I like to hang around with accompanied me and they were taken aback at the sight of a near empty bar by midnight and a dancefloor full of people that they had only ever regarded as patients.
I explained to them that we have all had enough bad nights to appreciate the good ones.
Today brought the expected sense of anticlimax and the recognition of the fact that the Games were the distraction through which I had personally sought shelter for the last few months.
But far outweighing that disappointment is the legacy this week has left in its wake. For that, I have no words.
PS This blog will now be going to blog heaven, but for those of you who need to fill time in a civil service job or on dialysis or in sleepless nights spent on PD you can keep an eye on my exciting life at
This Limbo - a blog about dialysis & other curiosities