I have been a sports journalist for over 15 years - and have always loved words - but never, not once in my entire life has just one word meant so much to me.

In brain injury circles - as in life - people say you have to own something.

This is not so easy for me, but I am giving it a good go.

Now the name of my brain injury is a “subarachnoid haemorrhage” - two measly words which before the events of March 2, 2013 had never entered my life before.

As Shakespeare said: “what is in a name?” Well it turns out quite a lot actually sir!

Doctors and many other people call my injury a ‘bleed on the brain’ - which is what it is - so fair enough.

But internally - to me - that never felt enough.

That never described or did justice to the damage done to my brain - and entire life.

My wife has suffered, my family have suffered, my friends have suffered and my work/job/career have all suffered from it.

Without trying to sound too egotistical, but I sometimes think of my brain injury as like the sun in the universe - with a number of different elements orbiting around it and all feeling the ripple effects coursing through them.

Now that is not to say I am suggesting I am at the centre of the entire universe - but I like to think I am, or certainly was - in my own little universe.

I have always been good with words - some may call it a curse, some may call it a blessing.

Therefore, maybe it is this which fuels my search for definition - and ultimately closure on the matter.

So would a rose smell as sweet? Shakespeare might say.

To me, a "bleed" was merely just a bit of blood - a child falls over and scrapes their knee, you catch your finger in a zip by accident.

My incredible wife Amy has been simply amazing throughout all of this - and still to this day I do not know why she has put up with my constant annoying badgering questions like: "Is it a stroke? Did the doctors call it a stroke?"

But when something has had so much power or influence over you and your life, you want to at least get its' name right.

Amy and many others in my life still refer to it as a bleed and that's ok, I don't want them saying “subarachnoid haemorrhage” all the time and also for them its comfortable they have got used to it over the last six (wow is it six!?) years. For me though I think I'm still working on it, so many doctors have started calling what I had a stroke. For me personally it better suits my journey, the devastating journey my stroke has taken me on. 

I know for others this detail is just that, maybe an unnecessary detail, but for me it's important and crucial word in getting used to what happen to me. 

At 30 years old I had a stroke and my life changed forever. 

​Although, after saying all of that, all thoughts, feelings and worries fly out of my head the minute I hear the most important word to me - Daddy!!!

There are certain dates which are forever etched into your memory banks.
Growing up, I always made it my mission to learn the date of births of those closest to me so I could at least wish them a happy birthday when their big day arrived.


Every time there was also a FIFA football World Cup, I always used to enjoy buying the Panini sticker albums which accompanied football’s top tournament.

One of the things I would do was read through all of the dates of births of the players to see who they shared a birthday with.


One player who stood out to me was Brazilian maestro Romario at the 1994 USA World Cup when the diminutive striker shone by helping his country to their fourth triumph. I then took great pleasure in discovering he and my sister shared the same birthday at the end of January.


Even now, after everything to have happened to me I can still perfectly recite each one of my family and closest friends’ birthdays. I’m a stickler for dates, years and details. 


One date, I know for sure, will never be forgotten
March the Second, 2013.
This year will be the six-year anniversary of my bleed on my brain.
Six years.
Six years ago, my life and the lives of everyone I love changed in an instant. 



It's cliched I know, but in many ways it feels like a lifetime ago, in others only yesterday. As time passes you think life would get easier, you say less, cry less, notice less. For Amy and I perhaps the only one we do less of is say. Although as Amy can testify, every now and then I just need a big old cry. It is usually sparked by some emotional moment on an E4 program!


Amy and I are by nature private people. We have become masters at hiding the effects of my brain injury from everyone. A rare few have seen us fall apart. 


The funny thing about time is it doesn’t stop. Six whole years have passed, friends have bought houses, grown bigger families, gained promotions. They have lived and laughed and loved. As everyones worlds and lives got bigger and fuller, we said less. Our tale seemed less epic, less life-changing, less important. In a way we liked it that way, we gained normality. We could ignore our bad luck and just survive everyday. We fit into the crowd. 


But the truth is our lives have not got easier, each year that flies by is not full of achievements and good news in my recovery. I’m not sharing - today is the first time I shaved myself or today is the day I walked to work alone, because new achievements like this are not as common. I’m not improving everyday like I was at the beginning. Our initial adrenaline to survive has diminished - probably due to sleep deprivation! 


We have tried to be like everyone else, get married, start a family, relocate. But the honest truth is our life is hard. Six years of hard work has not provided us with the life we lost. We have had some incredible achievements and we do have so much to be thankful for, I am in no way ignoring that fact. We have, I’m sorry to break this to you, the most gorgeous child ever on the planet as our son, but we cannot provide for him the way we want. We have amazingly supportive family but we cannot rely on them forever. 


I guess what I’m trying to say is, it’s about time we said more, share more because being silent and trying to ignore the events of six years ago isn’t working. Our life has changed, we have changed and perhaps now is the time to accept we are not done talking about it. My brain is me and its broken. It has stolen so much from me, I am ready to take back some space and share more because someone out there, maybe just one person, might need to hear what I have to say. I want to prove to Reggie his Dad hasn’t given up, he is driven and determined to use the awful thing that’s happened and make a difference. 


Welcome back to From Reporter To Supporter 2.0

My life at the moment seems to be all babies and running - not that I’m complaining! But I did want to just share on here some fundraising activities we are doing, if anyone wanted to come along. So if you’re local please to us then do feel free to join one or all of our fundraising activities.
Don’t worry if you can’t come - maybe just tell someone about my story and if you can, share my fundraising page, it means the world to me to give back to the charity which helped rebuild my life.

In the next few weeks I hope to share some more training updates on here so do come back and follow along the journey.

Five years - Will

It is sometimes hard not to fall into the trap of saying ‘why does it always happen to me?’ Especially after a life-changing injury or event. Today was supposed to be the big fundraising weekend for my London Marathon, but we have had to cancel due to the snow. Now I know the snow is not here just to ruin my plans and has scuppered plenty of things all over the country. Best laid plans and all that. But it is hard sometimes not to feel like the whole world is against you. 

Today was and is important to me because it is exactly five years today since the bleed on my brain occurred. In brain injury circles we refer to this date as our ‘second birthday’. 

I have had five years getting to know myself again - the new me - testing my limits and understanding how much has changed. 

In these last five years, Amy and I have worked hard to regain some sense of the life which was taken from us. We have finally accepted defeat in some areas and are still fighting for others. Five years ago I could not walk or talk - and I try not to forget that every time I hold our son or cook for my family. 
I don’t like dwelling on the past and bringing up memories of ‘March the 2nd’ - but please allow me this day to do some dwelling! Five years ago - even three years ago - I couldn’t imagine being married and starting a family. In many ways I have been so lucky to have managed to achieve many things since that awful day - like reporting at two World Cups in 2015 and 2016. Reggie is the light of my life and brings so much fun into our days. I have worked hard on establishing a new life by the coast and Amy is even jealous of me and jokes I have more friends down here than her!

Finally, I have learned the true value of looking at the positives in life which is probably a good point to finish on and hand over to the best positive to ever happen to me - Amy.


Five Years - Amy 

I think if I am completely honest it is only now - five years on - I can only fully understand all we went through. At the time of Will’s bleed I was just 21-years-old. Up until that point I had lived a life without too much heartache and suddenly everything changed. As a person, I internalise and don’t ask for help when I truly need it - I am still dealing with the repercussions of this even now both mentally and practically. 

I hate talking about Will being in hospital, I hate talking about it because I don’t want to remember him with the 41 staples in his head. I don’t want to remember him crying in his sleep. I don’t want to remember spending countless hours in hospital waiting rooms. I don’t want to remember Will unable to move his left-hand side. I don’t want to remember Will asking to come home and us not being able to take him. I don’t want to remember a hospital accidentally telling me Will was dead. I don’t want to remember watching Will have seizures. I don’t want to remember Will sobbing for his old life. 

For so many years our lives were frozen in time and we have been desperately trying to play catch up ever since. I know how lucky we are, but I also know how unlucky we are. 

I am so thankful for friends who have had to go above and beyond for us so many times and who are always there whenever my happy exterior disappears. I know it must be hard to be our friends or family because we have needed so much over the years and I am always aware of this and try as much as I can to cope with everything. 

I am plagued with thoughts all of the time of whether we should have started a family because we can’t cope without support. I am constantly doubting myself that I could always be doing more to help Will. I always feel like I am failing at something.  

But on this day - the anniversary of the day which changed our lives - I must remember all of the good we have in our lives. I must remember Will is still here and whatever happens in the future we can do it together. 

Above it all we want to say thank you. Thank you to incredibly supportive family, awesome friends and Headway for helping us survive the last five years.

Having worked as a sports reporter for the last 15 years of my life, one sentence has always stuck with me.
My journalism career has spanned three world cups - not to mention covering numerous other top flight football and rugby matches.
But one line just blows my mind and sees my respect for these athletes simply explode.
That line is “nobody ever takes to the field feeling 100 per cent fit - the closest you will ever get is 90 per cent.”
These are professional athletes - their jobs are to train for a number of hours each and every day for the sport they love.
So imagine trying to do that - trying to do your actual job - when your body just will not respond the way you would like it to.
I have said before I have been incredibly lucky with my brain injury in many ways - at no point whatsoever have I ever experienced any physical pain.
However, I spend a lot of time reading online accounts of a variety of different experiences of respective brain injuries - all more unique then the next.
One thing which is common with them is pain - many people are in constant pain because of their brain injury.
Even though I hate my brain injury for turning my world upside down, I must thank it.
It fuels me, it provides me with the burning desire deep inside of me which spurs me on every time I slap my feet against the tarmac or treadmill - because of what it represents.
Therefore, with this in mind and seeing as I am writing this on Super Bowl Sunday - which Americans deem “the greatest show on turf” - I must pull out all of the dramatic stops by announcing I am running the 2018 London Marathon this April.
I have always wanted to run it, but if I’m honest, I’ve never had a cause close enough to my heart.
I have always tried to look at my brain injury in a positive way - thanks to my incredible wife - therefore, the cause found me: Headway - the National Brain Injury Charity.
They have helped me so much - both here in Dorset and in Gloucestershire.
I may not have the life back from before my brain injury, and I may never get it back, but the more important thing is I have a life back.
I am still here.
With this in mind, I want to repay the amazing help and support I have received from Headway by raising money for them AND hopefully inspiring someone else to do something amazing.
As stated before, I have not been alone on my brain injury journey, and yet again I will not be alone in tackling this latest task because I am being accompanied by one of my best friends called Dave.
I cannot put into words what his support and every other person who have helped us means to me.


If you can, you can donate here, or help by sharing the link 
https://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/WillPerringwood

​Listen to the podcast here
https://www.spreaker.com/user/lifeafterbraininjury

Find me on twitter @willwood2
https://twitter.com/willwood2

Find out more about Headway 
https://www.headway.org.uk

When I first started this blog, it was purely to act as a memory aid for me - to remind me of what I may have done in that particular week - seeing as my memory has been one of the worst affected areas by my bleed.


We certainly did not set out to gain any recognition for it - or awards - so to hear it has been nominated for one of The HealthUnlocked Health Blogger Awards is a huge bonus.
I still don't know who nominated me for the award, but I would like to thank them, because we hope the blog can help raise further awareness of brain injuries in general and the people they affect because not much is still known about them.


I had never ever really read a blog before - let alone write one - as they are still a fairly new kind of medium.
But my wife Amy reads them all of the time (normally last thing at night in bed under cover of darkness when her husband is trying to sleep!!) so she suggested I do one to keep a track of the major milestones I have achieved - such as learning to walk again, for example.


From the blog - and therefore my brain injury - we have been granted many exciting opportunities including getting to record a podcast where we interviewed other brain injury survivors. Listen here!
Since I first started this blog back in 2014, there have been a couple more major milestones added to the list such as getting to marry Amy last October, and then welcoming our beautiful baby boy Reggie to the world just last month.


It is often said in the world of brain injury they do not affect just one person - which is absolutely spot on.
Amy had to uproot her entire life to move to Cheltenham to become my carer and look after me. 
Now our little family of three live with Amy's family on the south coast, so there are quite a few of us in the corner of team Perringwood!!

So if you do have a spare five minutes to give this blog a vote we would really appreciate it. Although we started this blog to document my recovery, since then it has become so much more. Through sharing my story so many other brain injury survivors have shared theirs too. To be nominated is a huge honour and gives us even more motivation to keep sharing. 

Vote here!

It is often said in sport - as it is in life - if you are prepared to put in the hard graft, then you will be rewarded for it one day.
As people say, it is mere karma after all - the universe rewarding you for a pretty rotten run of bad luck.

Amy and I have had quite a run of bad luck for quite a few years. Looking back at some of our darkest times seems now like we are looking back on a completely different life. When I think back to our dark and dingy basement flat we were unable to afford to move out of, plus me being unable to be left alone because of the fear of falling or having a fit - only able to complete one ‘big task’ a day - I can’t believe we made it through that time. Thankfully life is a different story now. 

On Monday August 14, we welcomed the most amazing reward - our beautiful son Reggie Perringwood. 

Amy, her mum and I spent a week waiting for our gorgeous boy to be born, and in the end it was decided he didn’t want to come out and so was born via C-section. I was lucky enough to be right beside Amy when Reggie was born - making a grand entrance by peeing all over everyone in theatre! Taking after his dad as I did the same thing!

I cannot put into words how utterly gorgeous he is - clearly he takes after his mum!

We decided to name him Reggie - after Amy's grandfather - which I absolutely love even though I never had the privilege of meeting him, but I'm told he was a legend - as I'm sure little Reggie will be too!
Or should I say 'not so little' Reggie seeing as he weighed in at a whopping ten pounds exactly!
He clearly has my thighs!
It must have something to do with the fact both of his parents were nine pounders when they were born, but I've never met anyone who made it into actual double digits!

Maybe I'm slightly bias, but I personally think there is a pretty cool ring to the name "Reggie Perringwood" - I'm convinced he will inherit his amazing mum's many musical gifts - because let's face it - his dad clearly doesn't have any, unless you count a grade two in clarinet!!
Amy has already banned him from ever playing any rugby whatsoever - because he is too precious and we have come way too far to ever let anyone come close to even hurting him - I have to say I agree! Can you see the protective dad streak coming out in me already?!

Growing our family comes with new challenges. I have not stopped being Will - a brain injury survivor - my memory is not better, my left hand hasn’t suddenly started working properly. I still have the same struggles but my heart has doubled in size and I am reminded again how precious life is.

People often say when one door closes, a window of opportunity opens.
This has been the case recently, because my amazing wife and I went to the Headway annual conference called "The Way Ahead" - near Stoke-On-Trent.

This was a part of the world I know well because I began my journalism career there way back in 2004 (man, that seems a long time ago now doesn't it?!) at Stoke City Football Club.
However, this time I was returning for the first time since the two most important moments of my life had occurred - my brain injury and marrying my amazing wife.

You will see these events are at the complete opposite ends of the happiness spectrum to one another - one being incredible and the other being pretty rotten, to say the least.

We went along to help promote our podcast and meet brain injury survivors and make connections with different Headways,

We broke up the journey by travelling to see our friends in Gloucester and staying over with them - with myself enjoying the chance to drive my wonderful wife from the south coast to the north west of England.
​
Two highlights in particular stood out for me from the whole experience head and shoulders above anything else.
The first was meeting a lovely person who had suffered the same brain injury as me. It was truly an incredible moment having the chance to look someone in the eye and say to them: "Don't worry, it is going to be okay, it will get better."
I have also said before, my brain injury has given me the wonderful opportunity to meet some of life's true "characters." 

While there we thought it would be good to record some different voices for today's episode.
First of all there was lovely Lisa from Wales - who as you will hopefully hear from the accompanying podcast - has the most amazing Welsh accent, who I could just listen to for hours.
She was the best example of demonstrating how brain injures do not care where you come from.
Then there was Nikki from Doncaster, who as you will hear, was yet again an incredible person and huge entertainment value.
She was a great example of how you can get through one of life's truly horrible events as long as you have a smile on your face.
Crossing the border again into Scotland came the lovely softly-spoken Callum from South Lanarkshire, who was such a calm and gentle presence in person.
Finally, there was Mary from Headway Devon, who travelled even further than us to get there.
Like everyone we met, she had a great story to tell because she had gone from being a client to working for Headway.
The majority of the trip was rather unbeknown to me because Amy had been in constant dialogue with the Headway media guru called Luke, who you will also hear speak on the podcast.

I was complete and utterly surprised when the lovely Luke invited us up on stage to answer a few questions about ourselves and the podcast we have been doing in front of a room full of people. Amy still insist she had told me, quite a few times. 

My one regret from the weekend - purely because I will never ever get the chance to do this ever again in my life - was I did not do a "Mic Drop" when we had finished on stage while most of the audience were kindly giving us a standing ovation. We felt so honoured people have taken the time to listen to the podcast and taken an interest in our own story. 

In no other walk of life would I have got to do any of those things if it was not for my brain injury.So, I suppose, I am thankful. 

Headway UK
​Headway Merthyr Tydfil
​Headway Doncaster 
​Headway South Lanarkshire 
Headway Devon

It’s Amy here today! I am usually behind the scenes in all of mine and Will’s online adventures - editing and untangling knotted wires - but I wanted to share something with you today which has been on my mind for the last few months.

I wanted to talk about life-changing moments.

When Will and I got married last October, I was determined to give a speech - as I’m not one to give into social stereotypes! While writing, I thought about how Will and I have already experienced two life-changing moments. I truly believe our lives changed from the first moment we met on Valentines’ Day 2012 - as soppy as it sounds I knew straight away my life would never be the same again. I had met my match. I was not planning on meeting ‘the one’ it just happened unpredicted, unplanned. This was our first life-changing moment.

Our second was the worst kind of life-changing moment - after a year of knowing each other - Will almost died.

I hate thinking about this fact but it is just that - a fact. One second changed both of our lives forever. Will and I live with the effects of that one second every single day. Our lives changed suddenly and without warning - completely unpredicted and certainly not planned.

Everything happened so quickly I have probably not yet been able to actually process the whole experience properly - even now. I was 21 years old and my boyfriend was fighting for his life. Since that day we have been merely reacting to this moment - solving problems as they came along and trying to regain some sense of control - or dare I say - ‘normality’ over our lives.

The reason I feel like looking back over these life-changing moments is because we are about to have a third one! This coming August we are set to become parents for the first time. Although our third moment is going through a monumental change, this one is the only one we have known about prior to the event.

But for this third life-changing moment we have time. Time to prepare and plan for it (as much as anyone can do!!). We have the ‘luxury’ of time to get excited for it, to imagine it in our heads and time to get ready for this exciting moment. We also have the time to feel nervous, overwhelmed and scared about it all - which of course are all the normal reactions for it, which feels fantastic to have some actual normality in our lives for once!!


We cannot wait for our lives to change again!