The idiocy of starting a blog when you're bed bound hits home, empathy takes hold, and Harrison Ford does his best to liven things up.

Sonny and Cher wake me every morning, it's gonna be a long winter and I don't have to worry about my booties, cause I'm not going out there.

I've got sugary snacks, a new recovery regime and a new bed desk. So, we all know what that means. I'm going to catch a killer..

It's almost time to leave the hospital - but my fear of pain, lack of drugs and a set of Escher stairs are making the idea less appealing.

How the weeing in the bottle could send an SOS to the world and save our souls.

It turns out that if you break a few bones, you can break a few resolutions - and stuff your face stupid with whatever you want.

An accident, a hospital visit, and some NHS administered drugs left me facing an unexpected problem - aliens trying to torture me.