I like to think I’m a hard man – at least emotionally. But evidently not this week. It all began with a coffee over lunch and a browse of The Guardian.

I was reading about the Boston bombs. We all saw the stories and the horrific pictures and footage.

It’s enough to sadden most, but as I read about the ‘scores of amputees’ it all became too much. I looked at the maimed victims and began to gently cry. I was in public. What the hell was happening to me?

Why had I experienced such an unexpected reaction? And then I realised – it’s about kinship – an understanding of the chaos that a life-changing injury brings. Those victims who lost limbs will never live life as they did before.

Most upsetting is the knowledge of the journey that lies ahead for these people. It’s a feeling of helplessness and despair. You just want to know what the future looks like and no one tells you, because they simply don’t know. It’s not just about you; it’s also a brutal time for loved ones.

The question ‘why has this happened to me?’ rattles around your head. Your brain is over-active trying to picture life ahead. It’s so overwhelming it’s exhausting.

Later in the week I went to a film screening about paralympians. I was invited to talk about life as a wheelchair user and how you can achieve more than you think.

I was excited to see the film, meet the stars and producers. Little did I expect to be a blubbering mess. I had a lump in my throat for the entire film, with frequent bouts of tears streaming down my face.

From behind my bloodshot eyes I managed to portray the message of the film in person – life does get better.

I’m so grateful for my recovery and how my life has moved on.

Luckily, the evening finished with a champagne reception at the German ambassador’s residence.

It’s amazing the healing power of yummy canapés and free booze. I guess you take the rough with the smooth...