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Leia mais Leia menos. Comece a ler Falling and Laughing: The Restoration of Edwyn Collins no seu Kindle em menos de um minuto. Detalhes do produto Capa comum: Ebury Press 1 de maio de Idioma: Seja o primeiro a avaliar este item. Compartilhe seus pensamentos com outros clientes. I'd really liked "A Girl Like You" when it first hit the airwaves over here in the US, and when I'd heard that Edwyn Collins had suffered at least one massive stroke the sort that is often referred to by medical professionals as "a widow-maker" , and had made something of a comeback, I just had to get the book.

Orange Juice - Falling and laughing

While I had kept putting it off, I finally broke down and bought a copy and it's truly written "from the heart" by Grace Maxwell, his wife and partner of many years. A great read - particular from the standpoint to knowing what's in store for people who go through such terrible ordeals as strokes and the like. Stories like this tend to remind me that while sometimes I might think I've "got problems" - try putting yourself in the shoes of Edwyn Collins - or his wife Grace, and having to cope with such massive "ups and downs" of the recovery process, which often takes months and months!

Truly an inspiring story! It was a story of marriage, family, medicine, and rock music brought together when Scottish singer-songwriter Edwyn Collins underwent a stroke which left him paralyzed on the right side of his body. Grace Maxwell, goes into detail over her husband's medical diagnosis and progress, as she managed to build a community of friends, extended family members, supportive healthcare professionals, and fellow musicians in helping to adjust to a post-stroke life.

Initially, Edwyn couldn't speak, read, write, walk, sit up, or feed himself. He had lost all movement in his right side and was suffering from aphasia--an inability to use or understand language. When he initially recovered consciousness the only words he could say were 'Grace, ' 'Maxwell, ' 'yes, ' and 'no. James still makes music, David has lived and worked as a journalist in Melbourne for 20 years and Steven is a contributing editor to Vanity Fair in New York.

All grown up, but they seemed to fall back into the same patterns with one another almost immediately. Accepting the award, James described a gig at Maryhill Town Hall in Glasgow where Edwyn played with his arm in a sling. He had been beaten up in Kelvingrove Park Alan Horne had been with him but had heroically run away! At the gig, the audience kept shouting out for Showaddywaddy numbers and banging their pool cues on the stage in a menacing way. This was a full-forced reaction to the weird, un-Glasgowness of the band. The lads obliged with a blast of "Standing in the corner in my new blue jeans James said Edwyn was the definition of grace under pressure that night, which rather neatly describes the original lineup of Orange Juice.

They excelled at stage patter, James and Edwyn. James's stories would be accompanied by Edwyn's convulsive laugh, a bizarre noise that those who have heard it in the flesh will agree defies description. As James told the story that November night in , Edwyn stood beside him doing the laugh, and for me, the years fell away. I walked through the door and smelt burning. The potatoes had boiled dry on the stove.

Edwyn Collins: The road to recovery

I moved through to the kitchen and switched off the gas, calling, "Edwyn, the potatoes It must have hit William too because as I ran upstairs to the first floor living room, the room where we watched TV, I was calling Edwyn's name. Not loudly, not panicky, but as I got there I saw Will had beaten me to it, descending from our top-floor bedroom, where he watched TV.

Normally he would ignore our shouting up and down the stairs. So his cry of alarm was confirmation.

Edwyn was on the floor in front of the sofa. I think Antiques Roadshow was on in the background. An integral part of a cosy Sunday night in, now we were old folks. His body was contorted, the right side caught underneath him. Will and I both flew to our knees beside him, uncoiling him. We didn't panic or scream. Will got a pillow for his head. He remembers me cradling his dad's head, kissing his face, reassuring him.

Edwyn's face was lopsided. He was semi-conscious, trying to speak and unable to. I was clear and detailed to the woman on the switchboard: The neurologist takes me alone into a side room. What he tells me I absorb silently. And this is what I feel. My skin tingling, pins and needles. My eyes feel like they don't fit. Edwyn is perilously ill. A blood vessel in his brain has burst under pressure. It has trailed a path of destroyed tissue in its wake, continuing until the pressure itself stopped the bleeding.

Falling and Laughing: The Restoration of Edwyn Collins

However, the mass of compressed blood threatens further damage and the risk of the bleeding resuming is high. If this happens, the outcome will be catastrophic. He will almost certainly die. The neurologist goes on to say, bizarrely, as if it comforts, that should this happen Edwyn will be unconscious and feel nothing.

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And he suggests that I gather anyone who needs to be here as soon as possible. He says these words in a gentle, practised manner. There is absolutely nothing nasty about this man, whom I will never see again.

But I still feel a kind of hatred towards him. We arrive back on the ward amid a flurry of activity. Here is the strangest thing: We barely utter a sound, even when the doctor on duty tells us Edwyn has taken a turn for the worse. His breathing, through an orange-coloured tube in his air way, is more laboured with every try.


As we wait for the crash team to arrive, we stand mutely around him, his mother, his sister, me. We're frozen to the spot with terror. I actually feel frightened of Edwyn himself; it's as if he's transformed into something so alien, so fearful. I'm watching him fall into a place I can't follow.

None of us touch him. We spend the next hour and more huddled together on the plastic chairs by the lifts, outside the ward, waiting. My boy arrives with his Auntie Nan. When I called her he was asleep, but they made it to the minicab office round the corner in minutes.