Author: hustlehard4life

I remember writing in one of the blogs I last wrote, ‘let’s see what happens when I say nothing’.. and I have seen what’s happened.

The results are in. And if I’m honest, I’m struggling to come to terms with them.

This has been the first placement where I’ve kept quiet about my condition. Shortly after I started this placement, someone found out about my condition. I cursed myself and made her swear to keep it a secret, which she has done and I am very grateful for. However, the same person who knew about my condition was also the only person to say this :

You are a truly brilliant nurse. You have the whole package and the ward you end up on will be so lucky to have you. But I know you struggle with your memory, maybe keep a notebook in your pocket? 

This has confirmed what I have believed to be true for the last 2/3 years. I appreciate people looking out for me so much and hope they see where I’m coming from when I say this:

Whilst I appreciate her kind words to me and countless others that have come before, which were only said to comfort and reassure me, I have learned an incredible but soul destroying lesson upon hearing them.

If I hadn’t of told her or other people before her about my condition, she/they would never have made comments about my memory/symptoms. She would have stopped at ‘you’re a brilliant nurse with the whole package’.

For years, in my fight to become a qualified nurse, all I’ve heard from people is how my condition affects me.

Every placement, every year, all my comments contain friendly and constructive criticism, which all focuses around my injury and consequent symptoms.  I’ve gone from being an ‘amazing nurse’ (full stop) to an ‘amazing nurse, but… symptoms 1, symptom 2, symptom 3 and so on..’

People have know idea how much I’ve sacrificed to get where I am today in the pursuit of my dream job. It’s taken me nearly ten years to get here, 5 of which were hell. And the torment I put my body, mind, family and daughter through has pushed me beyond the limits of human endurance and sanity.

Maybe I hide it too well..

..but it takes its toll. I am exhausted 24/7. I have few friends and any woman that would be crazy enough to be interested in the real me and accept me for who I truly am (I have not met a single person who fits this criteria) I’d have to exhaust myself communicating with.

As things are now, looking at all the evidence, I truly believe there will not be a single person who will accept me for who I really am. After all, it was even enough for my wife to admit that even she did not have the capacity or inclination for it.

It’s just a simple fact of my life, and I am happy to live and deal with it because I have so much to be thankful for.

I’m one week away from completing my 5th placement, then there’s just one more to go. If I can achieve this goal, it is proof that people who suffer from the injuries that I have really can achieve anything, no matter how unbelievable or unrealistic it might sound. Nothing is impossible.

I know people are only trying to be nice to me, but it’s not the point. The point is this:

• Severe Subarachnoid haemorrhage 
• Severe petechial haemorrhages
• Cerebral odema
• Several fractures to the skull and neck
• Diffuse axonal injury
• Frontal and parietal contusions
• Frontal haematomas
• Sepsis

… should have all killed me. Miraculously, they didn’t. But they have unleashed hell on me for the rest of my life, but i’m cool with it.

This picture was taken the same year as the following one. My wife found out about her pregnancy when I was in my coma, so I didn’t even know I was going to be a dad in the picture above. Mind you I didn’t know about much, I was a pound short of a happy meal there. 

90% says I should be in a vegetative state.

80% says I will never return to employment.

80% of marriages fail after TBI.

But 100% of me says .. I am a Whitehead. My daughter is a Whitehead. We both had sepsis and were ventilated in the same 9 month period. Good luck to anyone or anything that stands in our way.

And if that wasn’t enough, here’s my favourite picture of me:

As I walked into the shop, the floor instantly started to move. I became hot so suddenly it was like being struck by lightening and then you’re burning from the inside out. The acoustics in the shop and the noise coming from the teddy stuffing machine was piercing my brain  and it felt like razor blades were being run across the surface of it.

Today is Reese’s birthday. I’m with her for about 5 hours and I’ve been looking forward to this, grip yourself.

I held on to and leant against anything I could. I felt so close to fainting, I made sure Reese was out of the way just in case I did.

Luckily, I didn’t and we paid for the (£50!!!) customised teddy bear and left.

I hardly see my daughter and I didn’t want to wait outside and miss out. I get to see her for 2 hours on christmas day, 5 hours on christmas eve. I literally feel like my heart is splitting in two.

When we got home, I laid down on the sofa. Reese picked up her new blanket she got today from her auntie Lil and put it over me, placing her new teddy I’d just bought her next to me. A 4 year old gives me more understanding than most adults!

Fancy writing a blog? 

• Lawyers of a national company which can’t be named for legal reasons, are reading this blog. It’s important to realise that anything I write can be used against me in court.
• Being a nurse in the NHS means you have to be superhuman and show no feelings or signs of weakness. We must be silent and keep to ourselves.
• People that have betrayed me over the years also read this blog looking for a scapegoat in my words to try and screw me over for good, after having failed the last time they’ve tried.

But how can you help others in a similar hell to yourself if you’re not honest and your true feelings and experiences are masked through fear?

I will never be understood by anyone, I accepted this a long time ago. It’s funny actually, because when people first meet me they absolutely love me. You know, real salt of the earth buffoonery stuff.

Shortly after, these same people who have told me how much they care about me, have had a sudden change of heart when they realise that living with a brain injury isn’t quite as glamorous as they first thought.

People always disappear.

I guess exhaustion, solitude,frustration, a shit memory, mood changes, needing quiet moments and a thousand other things I live with everyday isn’t as glamorous to people as they first thought it might be.

My one piece of advice to you if you’re reading this as a newbie: keep your distance from me, keep it casual. Anything more never works.

Why am I doing this?

I want to show people that you can work as a nurse with a hidden disability and still be in a position where you’re not too scared to speak up about it.

And the lawyers? Well, your millions of pointless pounds might mean something to you, but I’m brain injured whether I have millions in my bank or nothing. And putting a smile on children’s faces by using a hidden magician’s squeaker is priceless to me, so I’m already rich.

Life is too short. I’ll never understand why so many people out there are full of ugliness.

I’ve laughed my way through the last five years and I’ll carry on doing it, whatever happens. Because this rollercoaster shows no signs of slowing down. And I’m showing no signs of wanting to get off yet.

Last week, when me and Reese were staying over at my mum’s house, she asked me

‘Daddy, why can’t I sleep in your bed?’

For a nano second I was so close to saying that yes, she can, because I wanted nothing more. However, I met with my consultant later on that day and he told me that it wasn’t a good idea. Just as well really, because at 2/3am that night apparently I was standing on top of my bed shouting “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare!” .. or words to that effect. I vaguely remember the flashback I was having now.

So that was the nail in the coffin for me. Even though I’m desperate to see her more and have her overnight, I can’t risk it because of my symptoms. So after years of hoping I’ve well and truly accepted that reality. For now. It wouldn’t be worth how awful I’d feel afterwards having exposed her to it.

So I suppose Dr B was right (clever people with glasses usually are). Fair one.

Deciding not to tell anyone on my current placement about my condition seems to be paying off. It’s bizarre, because unless I tell people the reason why I am the way I am people generally have no idea, this is old news. But if I were to explain why I am a certain way, I’ve learned people try to make sense of it by comparing it to themselves.

Then again, my last placement knew I had a health condition because I was at uni with them before they became qualified. Great bunch of people, I love them all. But in all honesty when you tell people you have challenges and symptoms it becomes almost expected, even if through your own eyes.

The following in bold are just a few comments people have made to me since my accident, and right below it is the actuality/reality to each comment.

“Yep, I know what you mean. I get tired”.

 Does your tiredness make you so dizzy you become sick and have an upset stomach? Do you get severe pain in your head? Do you get blurry lines appearing in front of you? Does the floor move? Do you go pale? Do you start to forget words, do you start to lisp?

“My memory is awful too”

Last week I left the house and had to return 5 times before I had everything I needed for the day. I kept forgetting something! But it’s ok right, that happens to you too every now and again. Try living with it day in and day out with no break in between.  Oh, and this has been happening since I was 22.

“I used to know someone who would just say it how it is. I think it’s good to be like that”.

I hear this a lot, and it always makes me chuckle. People love an honest person until they tell the truth.

I was talking with someone yesterday and she said something that was very pertinent. ‘Brain injury is something people become interested in for a bit, then they return to their busy lives’.

Over time I’ve learned the rare skill of having no care for other people’s opinions, because that’s all they are. The truth is I embrace being different. I am my own person, I do, say and act as I want with no care for other’s opinions of me. I belong to no stereotype or clique.

So there you have it, if you want to learn how to just not give a **** then you don’t need to find a good self help book, you just need to go and have yourself a severe knock to the head. Coma optional.  Disclaimer – This is not medical advice. Speak to your doctor before making this decision. 

Some people living with a chronic health condition become so used to different feelings of pain and discomfort that their brain begins to deal with it by pushing it aside on a daily basis

Two days ago I met with my neurologist for my bi annual review and he explained this to me. I told him I’d become so used to having a headache 24/7 that I’d learned to ignore and forget about it. This seemed to please him.

Although he seemed worried about the amount of medication I take, but deemed it necessary to keep me ticking over nicely.

Yesterday I felt what all you regular lot feel when you’re exhausted.

I had gotten up early with Reese and played until late the night before. I was shattered, but not neurologically.

It wasn’t brain injury fatigue, there is  a huge difference between the two and it’s obvious to tell the difference as long as pay attention to yourself. 

I was sat at my neurologists desk two days ago a completely different man to the one that sat there a year ago. Because of my commitment to meditation and silence, I have learned to better manage my symptoms.

I’ve been fighting to improve my symptoms for five years, I’m getting somewhere with some of them, but there are some things no amount of willpower can change.

What do you do when after 30 minutes of walking, you become dizzy, unsteady and experience vertigo, to the point you can’t even walk in a straight line.

The closest thing I can think of to explain it is likening it to walking on a bouncy castle. After a while of great fun on this imaginary bouncy castle you start feeling sick, then you get an upset stomach.

At work, I am always taking toilet breaks. If I start to feel it coming on I act on it early before it can get worse.

After I’ve taken a few quiet moments I get back to work and carry on. I laugh and joke and be myself, the more relaxed I am the less these wonderful symptoms pay me a visit.

I have already defied the odds by making it this far. I’ve put myself through years of torture not only to get to where I am now, but also to give my brain the best chance possible at rewiring itself to help me live with as much functionality as possible.

I feel tired, drained, exhausted. I’ve faced the toughest opponents of my life and had to live through terrifying and soul destroying realities. The amount of pain I hold has quadrupled and I’ve gained a rare and valuable insight into true human nature. But at least I’ve smiled and laughed my way through it. What else was I supposed to do?

Regardless of what happens Mikey, you can’t stop. No matter what happens, you must not give in. 

This is what I told myself three years ago before I restarted my nurse training for the second time. Nothing has surprised me because I prepared myself for this, and although no one could’ve imagine how hard it was going to be, I knew this might be the way it would go.

Yes, I’m tired. Yes, I’m drained. Yes, Im sad. Yes, I’m wary. I’ve completely lost faith and trust in all people on this planet.

But I’m still coming for what I want. Nothing has, will or can change that and I would sooner give up my life than give up on what I’ve set out for.

I’m going for it. I don’t care if my liver gets damaged from copious amounts of medication, I promised myself to do everything I had to to get this done. If the meds give me what I need to achieve this miracle then it’s a price I’m more than happy to pay.

So I guess it’s on to the next chapter of this  crazy rollercoaster. I said it’d be a rollercoaster of a ride in my first blog, maybe I should’ve just stuck to the teacups.

There will be people reading this blog now or in the future who at a time I would have been very close with. But as time has passed our relationship has diminished. Not completely in some cases, but mostly. It is common for people to lose touch though right?

I don’t know why, but there are people out there that keep trying to screw me over. It’s been happening since I was a kid, but it has become severely acute since my brain injury.

I’ve had more screw attempts that the eiffel tower

I couldn’t tell you why though! I’ve never met anyone who has had so many people betray them in their life and try to ruin their dream for whatever reason.

Many people read this blog and are probably perplexed by what I write about. None of it is embellished or dramatised, this really is how things are on a daily basis.

Is this really anything to do with the brain injury?

I don’t waste time pondering this. All I know is the truth, that I need to live my life differently to other people in order to survive let alone succeed.

I write this blog with total acceptance and contentment. If you really knew half of what you think you know about me, you would understand.

But I don’t get it, why can’t you do that? Everyone else does. What do you mean you have to stay isolated? Why can’t you let people get close to you? Why?

This blog is total truth with no filter, for my own contentment. The truth is, most people who say these things wouldn’t last five minutes walking in my shoes. So why bother trying to explain?

I admit I am very untrusting of people. I am paranoid every day that people are out to get me. But I’m only a product of what time and circumstance has made me.

I mistrust people for a reason. I keep people away for a reason. No one will ever really understand why.

Accepting without understanding shows courage. 

More truth: I don’t understand either. But I’m content with that.

But I do understand that the people in my life who I have allowed into my circle of trust have screwed me over big time. And my family, the only people I trust, have become just as hurt as I have. Time and time again they also become hurt by the betrayals I seem to keep attracting.

I guess it’s what I wanted, I see my dream  is coming,

I feel my enemies are plotting but they’ll never see me running.

It doesn’t matter to me how long I’ll last as a qualified nurse. I’m going for broke, this is it now. If I die the day after I become a qualified nurse then I would die happily knowing that I made it.

I’m always ready and I will always win. Out there right now I know there are people plotting against me. But do you know why I’ll always win? Because I have something that they don’t.

And you’ll never know what that is until I beat you with it

Coincidences are peculiar things. When I started my last nursing placement, in the same week (I think it was on my first day actually) I came across that choking boy in costa, hence the tale of the werther’s original was born.

Today I just finished the third official week of my placement, where only yesterday I lead my first resuscitation (I was the only medical worker there at the time) which happened to be in the public domain (as opposed to being in a medical setting where there’s lots of cool and shiny medical equipment to hand).

With the werther’s boy I was lucky enough to see that I prevented him choking straight away. Out popped the sweet and on my way I merrily did trot.

But still no news of the person I encountered yesterday. My torso, triceps and trapezius muscles are aching today, which I hope means that I gave it my all. It’s hard work resuscitating an adult, with kids you just need a few fingers or a palm.

The person was having a massive heart attack and was drenched in sweat.

When you get someone to start breathing again you get a glimmer of a positive outcome. When they froth out the mouth however, you soon grip yourself and just get on with it. Hopefully I did enough to give him a chance with the paramedics’ care. Anyway, let’s put this to bed. I’ll write about it again when I hear of the outcome.

So on my monthly visit to the local homeless people living in Westbourne, after I had departed with my cash, another thought struck me.

If you see a homeless man sitting in the street, drenched in rain and probably on the verge of hypothermia, but you notice a beer can next to him, what would your reaction be? 

I think I know

And I’m not saying what is right and what is wrong. There is no right or wrong, only thinking makes it one or the other.

I’ll finish with this scenario:

You’re walking to work one day when on the way you notice a homeless man on the street, looking cold and desperate. You reach into your pockets, but just as you do this, you notice cigarette butts littered around him and empty beer cans. You change you mind and carry on walking to work.

You arrive at work. You go in to see your boss to ask why you have been underpaid for this month’s wages. 

“You’ve paid me less money this month, why has this happened..? I need that money! My car insurance is due and it’s my mum’s birthday!” 

You ask, remembering the weekend is nearby and you’re planning a night out with your friends, last weekend’s coffee and lunch with that date you had was great.

The boss stands up. You notice his shoes are brand new and shiny. He has cufflinks, a nice gold watch and he smells divine. You would smell him if it were appropriate (although I would smell him) as he says to you:

“The amount we have deducted from your wages is in line with how much you spend on alcohol on a night out each month. Get your priorities right.”. 

Boss is arrogant. Boss is ignorant. Boss is a twat. Don’t be like boss. 

Just a mini blog this morning.

On past placements, usually after abut a month or so, I become run down and exhausted. This is a regular pattern that I am now used to and prepared for, although it still remains a huge endurance challenge. Neurological-fatigue is pretty much a constant and thats when the challenge is really on.

However, after only 3 weeks of my current placement I woke up this morning feeling run down and neuro-fatigued. Word finding is already difficult, my lisp is here already, I’m dizzy and the floor is moving already (I can remedy this).I’m starting a late shift today which will finish at 8:30pm, meaning I will arrive home around 9:30/10pm.

It’s times like this that the SAS mantra and strategic way of doing things becomes so important to remember

I could become soft and fluffy, put my health first and rethink my shift later on. However, I haven’t got this far adopting that attitude so it’s time to make a plan and crack on with it.

I bought myself a fatty breakfast from Mcdonald’s –  lots of carbs and protein. I stopped off at Tesco to buy an emergency can of red bull (which combined with dihdrycodeine has proved to be the only thing that can save me from a code red neuro fatigue attack, although not always) I may need later and an extra meal to take with me.

If you start flapping, you’re finished. The day will be lost and a bed is the only place for you if you allow yourself to get to this point. Stress is the number one catalyst for neurological-symptoms.

Prior planning prevents piss poor performance 

You need to be realistic and prepared for anything, realise your limitations and know how far to push yourself safely, and then have the balls to put it into practice. I knew at the start of my course that this would push me far beyond anything else in my life so I am totally prepared for these types of situations.

Nobody at work will see it (apart from the lisp) as I’ve learned how to just crack on with things.

I don’t want to let anyone know too much about my condition, I want to be treated the same as everyone else with no special treatment. So I have symptoms and I’ve had a brain injury. Well daisy if I have, because everyone has their own challenges in life that come in many different forms.

I’m a bit gutted at the moment, Reese is off to Scotland tomorrow so I won’t get to see her for a bit. She also said something in the car which contributed to my feelings of guttedness too, although it wasn’t anything new.

Mummy said I can’t sleep over at your house because it’s too small.

Of course, that’s not the real reason, but at her age it’s probably the most appropriate thing you could tell her.

Along with night terrors, it turns out that ‘sleep cooking’ is also a thing

The other night I’d got up and cooked a tin of sausages and beans (the one’s they make for children) with some toast. I even managed to grate some cheese to neatly sprinkle over the top of it, all whilst I was sleep walking.

The truly disturbing thing was that everything was cooked and tidied up in a far neater and tidier manner than if I’d been awake. Yes, evidently it turns out ‘sleep Mikey’ is more organised than awake Mikey. Remarkable.

Obviously that’s not the worry for her if she were to spend the night with me, the issue is around the terrifying nightmares I get. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I exposed her to that.

I’m not one for dwelling on anything or thinking I’m any kind of victim, I’m truly thankful, happy and blessed to be where I am in my life now. Just every now and then I find it useful to write about the issue I have with not getting the time I want with Reese.

Being out in the real world reminds me how different I am though. #nofilter 

On the a ward today:

“There goes the pain nurse, I can’t remember her name though” one nurse told me

“I don’t know it either, I’ve never met her” I retorted

Alas, that didn’t stop me from yelling the first thing that came into my head to get her attention. It had happened before I even knew what I was doing.

The words...PAIN NURSE! …escaped my lips before I even realised I’d shouted it. The whole ward (which consisted of SHO’s, a consultant, I think the surgical team and a few junior doctors, not to mention lots of nurses and patients) stopped what they were doing and looked up at the heavily-tattooed, fake tanned, short haired bloke attempting to pass himself of as a nurse flailing about shouting in the middle of a busy children’s ward.

The wonderful thing is that I am the future of nursing in the NHS. Now that’s something to have night terrors about.

C’est La Vie

I’m not sure if I’ll publish this, so if you are reading it then I obviously decided to. If I have decided to publish I’m not expecting anyone to even remotely understand what I’m saying.

It is well known that symptoms of paranoia and disillusion are common after traumatic brain injury

I’ve been dealing with paranoia for many years since my TBI. But right now, I am suffering more than ever and I put this down to me being in my final year of nursing studies.

I can feel in my head when it’s my brain injury. It’s not logical, it’s nonsensical. It’s like a feeling, it’s hard to explain.

Rumination. Guilt.

Imagine having something terrible that’s become stuck on your mind that you can’t stop thinking about which terrifies you more than words can say. You know it’s a TBI symptom, because you can almost feel the whirring in your head, it feels like a washing machine thats stuck on super spin. And you also know that nothing in real life can possibly be this terrifying, so it must be a symptom. It’s truly nightmarish.

The intense fear I get when a delusional though poisons my head is impossible to describe.

I’m paranoid that people in my life will grow bored of me and try to get me kicked off my nursing course unjustly, for whatever reason. I don’t know how or why, but it’s stuck on my mind. My brain has convinced me that it is possible.

Last week I thought I’d been caught speeding, I didn’t eat or sleep properly worrying that if my license is taken away, I will lose my nursing.

(NB – I hadn’t been caught speeding because I wasn’t. My brain had conjured up an impossible scenario that meant that I had done wrong and convinced me 100% that I’d be punished for it)

Happy ending right? 

The fear was paralysing and for some reason or another when I finally realised it was all just a bad dream, I did not feel relief. The part of my brain responsible for that is well and truly broken. Imagine that, worrying for months at a time only to find out you’ll be ok, but you can’t feel any type of relief or happiness at all.

Half the time you see something isn’t an issue, but your brain convinces you into believing it. My consultant calls it ‘catastrophising’. It becomes your life, your world.

An olive short of a pizza

In the early days after my TBI, I thought I’d be arrested for a crime I didn’t commit, so I smashed my laptop to pieces so the police couldn’t track me online.

A pound short of a happy meal

When I was driving along the road last week, I saw a small man riding a bike. He could’ve only been about 5″ if that. Instantly, I had an image of him being run over by a car and the car bumping over his body as it drove over him as he screamed flash into my head.

Just like an old woman. Apparently (??)

The other day on placement I couldn’t get my head round fluid charts.

TBI to me: ‘This could stop you being a nurse”

It was stuck on my head all day and all I did was talk about it to the staff and my mentor, they must have been sick of me.

In a friendly way, one member of staff said I was being like ‘an old woman’. To this minute I don’t really understand what she meant by that.

Things become an obsession

Another indicator that it’s ‘the TBI’ is that when a worry appears, it’s as if I have never meditated a day in my life. Throughout the day nothing phases me as I live a life with controlled, peaceful and logical thoughts, but the TBI seems to override all that.

This is the first time since my injury that I’ve spoken openly about these symptoms. They’re so horrifying and hard to comprehend I suppose I am just worried I won’t do it justice.

But I’ve realised now that I never will do it justice, I never could. Unless you can show someone exactly what this feels like, it’s an impossibility. And I wouldn’t want to do that.

Although dead fish seem to be the only ones that go with the flow, I’ll be honest and say that I do too. That’s how I approach ‘negative experiences’ – I go with the flow and see what good I can get out of it at the other end.

This christmas, although I won’t be spending it with my daughter, I will be spending it with my family who are the most important people in the world. Two years ago in January will also be the two year anniversary of Julie’s (my mother in law) tragic death.

Imagine how hard christmas is going to be for my ex wife. She doesn’t really have anyone close to her who lives nearby, she always visited her mum on christmas day.

Everyone makes bad decisions, we all make bad choices and none of us are perfect, least of all me!

I know it’s going to be tough on her. But I know the best way for me to help contribute to anyone’s happiness is not necessarily involving myself in their lives, but staying well away! This is something I became wise to after my TBI. We’re like the catalysts of drama.

I have told my mum to tell her that I will do anything I can to help make things easier for her over christmas and during the divorce. This is why I have accepted the conditions put to me that Reese will get to spend christmas with her family in London this year instead of with me.

However, it is crucial that things remain as they are, nothing has changed my thoughts on that. Sorry to be cryptic, but some of you will understand what I mean when I say this.

I don’t say these things as a sign of good faith to be brought up in the divorce, it’s because I can only imagine how difficult it must be to lose your mum and have to live the rest of your life without her. Therefore she’ll need as much support from her family as possible. Plus, the divorce rate among my socks is probably messier than this one will ever be anyway, so why be untruthful to myself and make it that way unnecessarily.

I can love her in my head, in my own way. I don’t need to even see her, I don’t need her to know any of this. I’ve never needed her family and friend’s to know anything about my true actions or thoughts either, I’m content with being misunderstood and their opinions of me being what they are.

I often think about Julie, we were close before my change in personality. I also think about uncle Arthur, who died recently. I think about pop, who was the nicest grandad anyone could wish for, so I’m glad my ex got to have him as hers.

I woke up the other morning and the first thing I thought of was Reese. I constantly think about her, I miss her every single day.

She’s like a mini version of me, everything I find funny I know she will too! That’s why if I’m out and about living my life when I’m without her, I’ll take a picture of something that I know she’ll find funny too. Like a weird looking cat, or pudsy the bear at work (who I wanted to get a picture with just to show her).

It does cause me sadness, I won’t lie. But sadness doesn’t have to be all negative. Besides, It gives me the energy I need everyday to accept and live each moment with as much awareness and intensity as possible.

Sadness doesn’t have to be an ‘all negative emotion’, not if I’m really aware and can use it in the right way.