David's Diatribe

My diatribe has not achieved what it set out to do and so there is no point continuing anymore; it has caused me a great deal of trouble

I have been in prison and has been such a shock to me, that alone is justification enough to end this.

Thank you to all of my readers and followers

Injustice has won the day and I am a broken man

I have cancelled my subscription and will delete all posts bit by bit because I cannot find another way. The blog itself will disappear next April but by then there will be nothing on it

There is no such thing as freedom of speech

I cannot take the harassment anymore, not that anyone cares

It is done. 99.99% of posts have gone but my back and neck are killing me but I wanted it done

My father and all of the family have won; congratulations

Yes, that’s right, I should be dead

Actually, it was a few decades after I was told that I would die within 6 months, if I didn’t have the major operation to remove a brain tumour. Those were the words of the doctor at Atkinson Morley’s Hospital, who had examined my scans, during a scheduled (but unknown to me) visit to hospital

Yes, “I should be dead“.

Those were the words that I said out aloud when I saw this scan for the very first time, during my neurological consultation with Dr Patrick Trend, in his consulting rooms, at Mount Alvernia Hospital. Here are the scans taken off of the disc

Here is the accompanying letter from Dr Trend

I had never seen this scan before; in fact, I had never seen any scans before, even though I had many consultations with Dr Trend or previously with Mr Walsh, who actually operated on me for about 12 hours.

We were chatting about my medication and I just looked up and saw the scan that he had put on his light box.

I asked Dr Trend what that roundish black spot in the middle of my brain was. It is the size of a small lemon.

He replied by saying that there was nothing there, other than atrophied brain (i.e brain tissue that had rotted into a soup) Yes, not nice eh?

When he had explained the “hole”, I said “I should be dead“. In my layman’s opinion, so much of my brain had gone that I could not possibly function normally

Lining what I call my “hole in my brain” is a massive amount of scar tissue that has effectively short circuited my brain and causes seizures, similar to the ones that I had when I had the tumour.

As a result, I have to take anti convulsive medication for the rest of my life.

As the operation had taken so long and, as a result, I had been under for such a long time, the anaesthetic reacted very badly on my body and I was so ill that I thought that I was going to die when I started to come around, throwing up as I was, with tubes sticking out of my head.

Indeed, years later, my father told me that my Mum, Dad and brother had been advised that I only had a 50% chance of surviving the operation, as they literally had to dig into my brain, after cutting a massive hole in my skull, now covered by a titanium plate and matching screws.

You cannot see the plate in these scans because of the orientation but you can see the screws holding the plate in and the thinness of my skull now

These scans came off a disc that was sent to me, at my request and cost, from the imaging department of BMI Mount Alvernia Hospital. It caused a lot of hassle to not only organise the disc but to actually be able to access the images.

The annotations are mine but the scans came off the disc.

If the prosecuting officer, Mr Hancock, at Arundel Police Station had seen these in conjunction with what Dr Trend had said to him on the phone, he would have been confident that no one was bullshitting him and I would NEVER have had to go through the ridiculous process of being prosecuted, which was a complete debacle.

I cannot explain the love that I had for Liesel; I just wanted to be with her and care for her when she became sick.

My undying love for my darling Mum and beloved daughter kept me going but I was just a shell of my former self and I drank and smoked more. Anyone who has not lost someone that has been dear to their heart and a soul mate will never ever understand.

Family are supposed to pull together when there is a crisis and a crisis that it has been for the last 5 years and I am not just talking about me losing Verity.

But, there is no one, no one at all in the family who will help me to get what is best for my Dad. I hope and “pray” that once that can be achieved, things will slowly fall into place. Regardless of how it was achieved, he did ostensibly leave a great deal of money to people other than him, even if he did then decide to use it as his own piggy bank and use it to control people, his own family no less.

All of the parties involved are all doing it for their own self interest, particularly Berwin Leighton Paisner, Paicolex Trust Management, Martin, his wife Alison and my pathetic cousin and Pat or Lori, depending on whom is talking about her.

I do not care if you believe it or not but I am doing this primarily for my Dad, because if that can be resolved, it may be possible to get my life back and get my daughter back; it is all interconnected.

I have a strong moral code and although I have really endured, I will just on keep going until one of two endings; I achieve what I need to achieve or I am dead.

Those are only two alternatives.

Anyone receiving an email from me will have seen that I have changed my profile picture to a single red rose.

The reason for that is that I am more or less constantly disheveled now but that is not me. It never was me and never should be me. I replaced it with a single red rose as that represents me now. Why?

On my first date with Liesel, I gave her a single red rose and she kept it. It was finally buried by Verity and I along with Liesel’s ashes and the remains of her favourite cat, Brezza, named after the old Bacardi advert. Whilst we were doing this, Verity rushed upstairs and grabbed Liesel’s pyjamas and rested them on the ashes before we placed Brezza on top. Verity said that it represented Liesel’s Brezza sitting on her lap. That was an incredibly sweet gesture by Verity and, yes, she was very sweet then and we were inseparable; the three of us but then we became two.

Liesel had a long fight with her brain cancer and she was immensely brave; I was so proud of her and proud that she chose me to be beside her. She had so much resolve that she surpassed all of the expectations of the doctors, as far as how long she would live; she was determined to hold her new niece, Brody, in her arms. My goodness, that woman had strength within her.

That is why I chose the rose. Not just to represent Liesel but to represent the strength and resolve that would be needed to carry on and to resolve this horrible mess and to get my little girl back. I draw strength from that rose every single day.

When I succumb to whatever illness that I die from, I have left instructions for red roses to be placed on my coffin and they will stay there when I am cremated. It was to be three roses, representing Liesel, Verity and I, with a family picture of the three of us leaned against the coffin.

But now, given that all my attempts to get Verity to even talk to me have failed, there will now be only two red roses on my coffin and a picture of just Liesel and I. That was an incredibly difficult decision to make but I had to “let go”, even though I still send Verity messages, hoping that they will strike a chord with Verity.

I have had to let go but I will never give up trying. The single red rose gives me the strength and resolve to do so.