It was a year ago at Christmas when I developed flu like symptoms, sitting on top of the fire shivering whilst everyone else was stripping off, and the wallpaper was peeling off the walls due to the heat! I slowly got worse with severe attacks of joint pain all over my body but principly in the fingers. It was worse when I returned from work and would get to the point where my wife would have to help me upstairs and undress me, the pain was too bad to push a button thru a button hole. She would also have to pop the pain killers and sleeping tablets out of the foil as this was too much to bear. Surprisingly come the morning I would have a hot shower and then go off to work until it would start again in the afternoon. I was going downhill and saw numerous consultants who diagnosed my condition as just a virus. I had been to visit my parents in Busselton, West Australia just a few months before and my brother, who lives in Perth, and I had recaptured our youth, bombing into muddy pools in the woods. Yes I was convinced I had picked up something exotic! We booked a week in sunny Portugal just after my doctor diagnosed a lung infection. We hoped the sunshine and 'getting away from it all' would be the best medecine. Sadly I spent the week in bed, so tired that I could only walk very slowly and very limited distance. I started to cough up blood and had to sit up in bed all night as the cough racked my body. Getting home was a trial as I suddenly realised how many stairs there were in the airport apart from getting on the plane! I saw another consultant who sent off some more blood tests and fortunately some bright spark at St BArts Hospital in London picked up that I was suffering from WG (Boy do I owe him a drink!) I was rushed into hospital and once again the gods were smiling on me as I was admitted into Addenbrookes, a fantastic hospital near Cambridge. Dr Jayne looked after me and I see him and his staff every month for a check up. I am on a world wide trial of Mycophenolate Mofitil which appears to be doing the trick. Of course I am also on Prednisolone (Watch the waistline go south!) When I was discharged from hospital, I felt very weak and couldnt walk upstairs or even drive to the nearest shop (500 yards) for a packet of chocky biscuits.. crikey how bad could it get. Still I set myself targets, the first one was when I was browsing thru the sunday papers and saw that my 'hero' Neil Young was playing a festival in Kent. His only British appearance. Came the day, and of cpourse being England, it was raining. Still we stood in a field for hours and got home about 4 in the morning. I did all the driving and then went to work as the alarm went at 6am! Not much was done that day but I had proved to myself that by listening to my body, and resting when necessary, I could still live a fairly normal life. My final target for 2008 was to go surfing in Cornwall. I have always loved the sea and spent many happy holidays with friends at surf village, Skewjack near Lands End. I did rather resemble a stuffed whale (damm those steroids) as I struggled into my wet suit and dragged my board out into some of the biggest surf I have ever seen in the UK. Sadly I could not stand up, too fat and too old but I felt warm inside as I had at least 'given it a go' The hospital are delighted in my progress but I know that I have avery long way to go yet. Reading some of the cooments on this web site have made me realise how lucky I have been. I have developed a much more positive attitude now, and at 57 years of age am fortunate to have seen my two children grow up and leave home. My wife works as well as me and so I guess we dont have too much to complain about. I would be delighted to communicate with anyone out there and expand my knowledge of this illness which has us all in its grasp. I like to think I may have just loosened the grip of a couple of its fingers!