It’s Wednesday afternoon. Apparently the hottest day in March for decades. I decide to get off the bus a few stops early and hit the park. There is not a cloud in the sky, the sound of fun echoes all around me. It’s a taste of the summer and despite being ginger and already sunburnt I’m loving it.

As I scan the park I eye a bench (you may be thinking why does he need a bench given that I travel with my own custom-made chair?).

Well, as comfy as it is (and it really is comfy), sometimes you just want the chair to go away and feel ‘normal’.

So here I find myself sitting on a bench, iPod on shuffle, soaking up the last few hours of sun.

Music is a strange one; when I first had my injury I hated listening to my iPod. All the songs held memories that were too painful.

Since then, my music selection has grown and old memories have been replaced by new... except for the dreaded shuffle.

On comes my old running/gym music.

The memories are vivid, me jogging around the path around the lake near my parent’s house.

My last ever able bodied fitness binge.

As I lift up my head I notice all around me are people doing things I can’t. A couple playing football, kids out of school shooting basketball, a guy cycles past.

Even those by themselves are laid out in the sun.

Despite escaping my chair I am still confined to wherever I put myself.

This is all the more frustrating as right now all I want is just to lie on the ground and relax (albeit to a different tune).

But once I’m out my chair I need three people to help get me back in.

It’s just not worth the effort or the public spectacle.

Fast forward to today, there have been blizzards in Scotland, you all know how I feel about snow but being a columnist has surprised me, in that I find myself analysing everything.

Extremes of weather bring many emotions to all irrespective of your mobility.

Sunshine and snow normally induce playfulness in the public but for those who have known life able bodied and free, to then become disabled and a static observer of your former abilities leaves sunny days forever tarnished.

I’m not nor never will be beaten by my situation, far from it.

But sometimes despite all the right factors (read sunshine and good tunes) I just want a holiday from my paralysis, a chance to kick a ball, have a bike ride or simply be able to sunbathe independently.