Selling up

We recently held a sale of all our 'dead stock' tractors, farm implements. etc. Buyers came from many miles.

Included in the sale was my Susuki quad bike, which I cannot mount or dismount now, even with help.

We sold our Guernsey herd - 70 milker cows, plus their followers - a couple of years ago. The only livestock that remain to be sold are 300 sheep.

Selling the farm and its contents and animals has been very traumatic for me. Purely because of the nostalgia.

In a few weeks time myself, my wife Margaret and my son Russ will move for the first time into a private house without any adjoining land.

Even though we will no longer have a farm to look after, it will be very busy at our new house.

Russ will have the ground floor for his gym, and the first floor will belong to Margaret and I. Russ will live on the top floor.

A lift is being fitted for me to help me get up the stairs. Once work on the lift is completed, we'll be ready to go!

Keeping warm

Being a farmer, spring is my favourite time of the year.

March, April and May herald the coming of summer. All growth becomes alive. Hedges and trees start to bud. And the grass in our fields that our animals need for grazing becomes lush and green.

Here in North East Wales, where we are 900 feet above sea level, our spring arrives a couple of weeks later than it does for the lowland farmers.

One of the great joys of spring is the arrival of snowdrops. But alas, this year there were no snowdrops at all. This is because we were recently forced to replace our herd of 70 Guernsey cows with around 400 sheep and lambs, and the little perishers ate everything, including my beautiful snowdrops!

You might wonder how someone with MS copes on the farm, with so much of the work being outdoors in the cold and wet. But nowadays farm work is so different from how it was in older times.

I began my farming career over 60 years ago. Back then, all physical work was done by hand. Cows were milked by hand at a rate of 16 cows per day.

These days there are machines to perform this task.

Before tractors were invented, all the land work was done (very peacefully, in fact) with horses. Someone ploughing with two horses, could plough about one acre a day. Now it's possible with the larger tractors to plough 30 acres or more per day.

As for keeping warm, I had two great coats. One was an ex-army coat and the other ex-fire brigade! I preferred the ex-fire brigade coat as it had a finer weave cloth so I could move about easily while still keeping warm.

I also wore three sacks about my person, one as a hood on my head, one as a cape over my shoulders, and the third as a skirt! Anything to keep warm!

Thankfully, farming is a lot less physically demanding these days, which means I have been able to keep working on my farm despite having MS!

Cannabis research

In 1980, I found I was constantly fatigued and kept stumbling about as if I was drunk, falling over for no apparent reason. I broke my ribs twice. I continued to stumble about, refusing to give in, until my wife Margaret insisted that I went to visit our family Doctor.

After some tests he told me that he wanted me to go into hospital. I told him, angrily, that no way was I going into any ruddy hospital as I was far too busy working on my farm to indulge in the 'luxury' of spending time idle in bed.

My GP told me bluntly that he suspected that I could have a tumour on my spine, which if not seen to could develop into something serious. So I reluctantly agreed to go into hospital, but only after I had completed our spring work. Once in hospital I was told that they had some good news, and some not so good news. The good news was that I didn't have a spinal tumour, but they were 99% sure that I had Multiple Sclerosis. Further tests, such as a lumbar puncture, proved this was true.

Unfortunately my condition deteriorated. And a few years later, they also diagnosed that I had prostate cancer and diabetes.

Of course, I fought hard not to let these stupid ailments stop me working and tried all sorts of remedial treatments, including HBO (Hyberaric Oxygen).

After I was diagnosed with cancer, the neurologist prescribed morphine sulphate, which did helped more than the usual pain relievers like paracetamol. But then I read an article in the press about Jeff Ditchfield, who wanted to open an Amsterdam-type 'coffee shop' in Rhyl from where, on receipt of a Doctor's letter confirming that one does have MS, pure cannabis could be obtained, free of charge.

I have been lobbying MPs for a number of years to have cannabis legalised for people with MS who experience great pain. I used to be a local councillor, and appeared on the front page of our Daily Post with my photograph and a headline in block capitals that read 'Ex-councillor wants cannabis legalised'!

I think it's most unfair that people with MS who want to use cannabis for pain relief have to go to some backstreet drug supplier to obtain it. I have been taking cannabis four times a day for a few months now and the effects have been excellent, improving my quality of life tremendously. I have no hesitation in recommending cannabis to others with MS or cancer.

I read a statement which was issued by the House of Lords two years ago which stated: 'We now have sufficient evidence to convince us that a doctor should be able to prescribe cannabis (taken orally, not smoked) legitimately to an MS patient without fear of prosecution'. Yet still it remains unavailable to many of us who could benefit from it.

More information about the medicinal use of cannabis is available at www.helpcannabisresearch.org.

Television

I'm not always sure whether it's a pleasant honour, or just a nerve racking ordeal, but I have been on the television numerous times over the past 20 years!

About 12 years ago, I was asked by the BBC if I would appear on a 'Songs of Praise' programme, which went off very well. When Cliff Mitchelmore asked me for my choice of hymn, I told him that I would like the hymn 'Count your Blessings'. Cliff asked me why I, having MS, would choose that particular hymn. I told him that as I had a wife and 5 disgustingly healthy children and the law of averages would say that one of us should fall ill, I thank God that it was myself, and not one of my excellent family who fell ill.

Since then, and for different themes, I've been on TV many more times. Not because I'm good looking or anything like that!

Before this wretched MS put a stop of my being an unopposed District and Community councillor (a priviledge which I loved), and was quite happy talking in public and made several TV appearance.

After MS arrived on the scene I was asked to go on TV again, this time because in our MS Branch I was the only Welsh speaker.

Back in 1980, I was one of four people with MS who kept a HBO (hyberbaric oxygen) unit at Saltney (near Chester) going. It's still going strong now, with many other therapies now available. TV crews have been there a number of times, and yes, inevitably, with muggins has been on it!

This last month, I have been on the television twice again, both times on the S4c channel and in speaking in my native language, Welsh! I spoke of how I am coping with my MS and the fact that we are moving from our farm in the next month or so.

I was also sure to mention the tremendous benefit I have experienced through taking cannabis, which I am able to acquire on receipt of a doctor's letter confirming that I genuinely have MS. The cannabis is available free, in delicious Belgium chocolate. I have found cannabis even more effective than the morphine sulphate that I was prescribed after it was confirmed that I had a cancerous tumour, 2 years ago.

So if you live in Wales keep an eye out, because you never know when I'll be making my next TV appearance!

Pipe

I've had many problems in my early life, but now I also thank God that he is keeping me relatively well. Because, in spite of the fact that I have MS, in these past 22 years I have also had to deal with brucellosis, diabetes and now also cancer.

But in spite of these thorns in my flesh I've been fortunate to receive excellent medical care, from my wife and our National Health Service.

Many times I've been admitted into hospital, and have witnessed how dreadfully ill some folk are.

The longest stay I've had at one time was 6 weeks, after a nasty MS relapse. When I have a relapse, my diabetes goes haywire. On that occasion my blood diabetes sugar tests went from 8 up to 48! But it's an ill wind that blows only bad things.

On othis occasion I'd been completely confined to bed and my excellent District Nurse had come every day to attend to me. I was stubbornly refusing to obey her order to go into hospital, telling her that it was pointless my as there was nothing that they could do there.

One morning I asked my wife Marg if she would bring my beloved pipe into my bedroom, telling her that if I should start coughing, she could have it straight back. Marg brought my pipe for me and as soon as I lit it I started coughing, so of course I could not smoke.

The following morning I was completely immobilised and only semi conscious. I couldn't do anything and an ambulance had to come and take me into hospital for this 6-week stay. When I was taken in, a nurse came every 2 hours for 3 days and nights to attend to me. I would just be falling asleep and the nurse would call me for another blood test and injection.

But they managed to stabilise the diabetes. I also had an intravenous insulin injection.

When I eventually came back home I straight away asked my wife for my pipe. She told me that one day when she went into town she had seen an old man who looked miserable, cold and poor. So she gave him my 3 pipes, my tobacco and my brand new gas electronic lighter that a friend had brought home for me! The ruddy lot! Gone!

The best thing that she has ever done for me was making me give up smoking.

Prior to this as I was such a heavy pipe smoker. Quite frankly, I would have walked through our town without my pants, but never without my pipe!

Now, nearly 4 years later, I am very much an anti-smoker, and it annoys me when I see, even on modern films, young people smoking, making it look 'cool' to smoke.

Christmas

We had, as usual, a very hectic, but superbly pleasant Christmas.

I say 'hectic' because for the past 40 years or so, on the Sunday before Christmas, we've always held a large family get together.

As myself and my wife Margaret were (up until recently) responsible for milking our herd of Guernsey cows it was always difficult for us to get away at Christmas. For that reason, these reunions have always been held at our home.

And my most capable wife copes with the extra work very happily. In the beginning it was just brothers, sisters and close friends. But over the years the number of guests has grown and grown. Children and later grandchildren, and their girl/boyfriends.

And of course, Father Christmas always pops in to give us all little presents!

Last year there were 40 people here altogether including the youngsters. We never send any invitations out - they just turn up!

We'll have moved house by next Christmas, and have been informed by our guests that they'll all be coming round to the new house for the get together as per usual!

The new house is going to have one very important adaptation: a stair lift for me and my wheelchair. I'm not steady enough to have an ordinary chair lift, so we will have to install an electric lift, which I can 'drive' my electric wheelchair into. This will take me up through the ceiling, and allow me, on my wheelchair, to get up to the first floor of the 3-storey house.

We have big plans for our new home. The ground floor is for our son Russ and his martial arts gym. The first floor will be inhabited by me and my wife. The top floor will will also belong to Russ, our ex-double world undisputed kick boxing champion! Russ no longer particpates in this sport. However, he keeps very busy teaching self-defence and keep fit classes.

Our move means we will no longer have a farm or a dairy herd to look after. While we're looking forward to moving into our new house, I was very sad to see the cows go.

We hope to move into our new place by March, giving myself and Margaret lots of time to think about how we're going to organise our next big family get together at Christmas 2003!

Gliding

"We could do with some publicity for our gliding club Glyn, would you write an article about it please?!"

It was Ken Payne, chairman of the Lloc Gliding Club (Lloc being a small village near our farm). Their gliders are stored in and operated from a large field owned by a friend of mine, Dick Moore.

I had frequently seen these gliders soaring overhead and had wondered what a glider flight would be like. This request was an excellent opportunity for me to have a flight in one, so I immediately said that I would be delighted to help, providing I could have a flight in one! Ken agreed, and I had a most pleasant and interesting flight.

There is an old saying: 'If God had meant for us humans to fly, he would have provided us with wings'. But just as some people go down to the sea in all sorts of crafts, then so must other folk go up in the sky in all sorts of flying contraptions, from the majestic Concorde and space rockets to what appear to be quite flimsy hang gliders.

But some of these hang gliders are fitted with 400cc engines and are successfully used for many land uses, such as surveying and crop spraying. Then there are the conventional gliders, used in the most graceful and increasingly popular sport.

The day of my flight came and I drove to the airfield. There were 2 gliders available, a single seater Grundia, and a double seater Bocian. Both crafts were made from wood and Irish linen (99% of gliders made now are glass fibre). I had previously been up in a plane for a charity tandum parachute jump, but I admit that I was rather apprehensive seeing the 2 gliders flopped down on the field like wounded seagulls.

The glider we climbed into was given a winch start. This is where a powerful, stationary engine pulls the glider very quickly. Ken called out "take up the slack!!", and a car parked nearby gave 2 slow flashes with its headlights followed by 2 quick flashes that gave the signal to the winch operator to go. And then we were climbing, almost vertically, making even a Concorde take off seem like a lame duck in comparison.

When we reached 1,000 feet the tow rope was released. We came to an abrupt stop, and I wondered if were were about to go plummeting down! But we remained horizontal. I got my breath back, and began to enjoy a very thrilling flight. The rural countryside below us looked so beautiful, coupled with the deafening silence, or just a slight wind whispering.

It got a bit cold, and Ken told me, apologetically, that as he couldn't find any more thermals, we would have to land. This meant landing away from the airfield, which was a bit annoying.

We came in to land at about 35 miles per hour. We had only been aloft for about 10 minutes, but when the weather conditions are right one can stay airborne for 20 minutes or more. I've had another glider flight since, towed up to about 10,000 feet by a single engine aeroplane.

What a thrill!