Edwin Guiton: Only when you can’t write it do you realise how much your signature is a part of your identity.

Ed Guiton: Swooning in the heat like a Victorian maiden, I long for the frozen, black and white landscapes of winter.

I wouldn’t say I was dependent on Val - but having to get by without her is proving no fun at all, says Ed Guiton.

Ed Guiton: Not many gyms cater for the disabled. But things are changing - if you can handle the muscular young men.

Ed Guiton: If all politicians are going to assume that I’m selfish, maybe it’s time for me to start acting that way.

Ed Guiton: Getting around isn’t so easy. I need an entourage willing to brave madcap drivers. Then there are the 11 pillows ...

Ed Guiton: I’ve always been prone to melancholy - but now I can’t walk it off. Only my past seems to hold any meaning

My levitating trick at parties - with a galss of wine to hand - is a sight to behold. Standing is even better.

Ed Guiton: Others may fight against the word, but I feel ‘disabled’ - every day I am conscious of what I have lost.

Ed Guiton: Thanks to Val’s Big Vision there has been more to our lives than four walls and a television. In fact, it’s non-stop!

Testosterone, desire, imagination - give me reveries about sex any day over counting the ceiling tiles, says Ed Guiton.

Ed Guiton: Your hands know, in their very bones, when the turn of the screw is just right. But try putting that feeling into words.

Everyone reacts differently to a newly paralysed friend. Children take you as you are. Grown-ups find it harder, says Ed Guiton.