Sam & The Bucket List

28/05/2026

Introducing your newest Queen... 👑

26/05/2026

When Ralph came to visit... 🐾

21/05/2026

When your friends visit and pamper you… ❤️

19/05/2026

MND isn’t pretty. It’s brutal, cruel and at times, fu***ng unbearable. It strips you apart piece by piece and forces you to grieve parts of yourself while you’re still here.

But somewhere in all that ugliness, it’s taught me more than comfort ever did. It’s shown me who people really are, who stays when things get hard, and what actually matters when everything else is taken away. Even in the darkest moments, there are still tiny cracks of light and thank god for dark humour, because sometimes laughing is the only thing that keeps you breathing through it.

This disease is teaching me to stop apologising for taking up space. To fight for the care, respect and life I deserve. To stop staying quiet just to avoid being labelled “difficult” or “the problem.”

Most people will never truly understand what it feels like to live with this sh*tty disease. The grief of wishing you could just walk again. Hug someone properly. Feel independent. Feel free. Some days that grief swallows me whole. But this is the hand I’ve been dealt, and I have no choice but to keep going.

So hold on, Sam. Even on the days you feel completely broken, exhausted and defeated, you are still here. And that makes you far stronger than you’ll probably ever believe.

14/05/2026

It's been a tough time of late, but seeking help has helped to make sense of why I feel as I do. I've shared some info about MADD, a disorder I knew nothing about.

No, that’s not a typo. I’ve recently been diagnosed as MADD, or Mixed Anxiety and Depressive Disorder. I’m not one who likes ‘labels’, after all I have the sh*ttiest label of all, MND. It however does explain why I feel as I do. Mixed Anxiety and Depressive Disorder (MADD) is a common NHS-...

24/04/2026

The sun is shining ☀️ and the weekend is in sight. After a few turbulent weeks, I needed a pick-me up, so treated myself to a piece of Tiffany & Co.

Learning to care less and live more is quite the tonic. So take this as a sign to treat yourself…

Buy the car 🚗
Eat the cake 🎂
Book the holiday 🏖️

You’re welcome!

01/04/2026

Living with Motor Neurone Disease (MND) means quiet moments to myself are rare, and true self-care can be hard to come by. That’s why I feel so grateful to have my wonderful friend Hannah, a reiki practitioner. We meet regularly, and I really cherish that time. It helps me switch off the constant noise in my mind and simply rest, allowing me to feel the real benefits of self-care.

I’ve shared a glimpse into reiki in my latest YouTube vlog. If you have a moment to watch, like, or comment, it really helps more people discover it.

In this video, you’ll meet Hannah, and I open up about what self-care looks like for me through reiki. I hope you enjoy it 🤍

Living with Motor Neurone Disease (MND) means I don’t often get time to myself and opportunities for self care are few and far between.In this video, we meet...

28/03/2026

“When I grow up, I’m going to be a carer.”

Little Man became upset recently, and at first it was hard to understand why. Eventually, he shared that he missed being at home because he wanted to look after me.

We include him as much as we can, while also trying to shield him from more than he needs to carry. It’s easy to forget just how much children take in, even when we think they don’t fully understand. I often feel a sense of guilt, wondering if parts of his childhood are being shaped in ways they shouldn’t be. He’s experiencing things many of his peers likely never will.

That said, he is a registered young carer, which means he’ll have opportunities to connect with other children in similar situations. Time to step away, to just be himself, and to feel understood by others who truly relate.

22/03/2026

🗣️ Voice Banking – Preserving Your Voice for the Future 🗣️

Some of you lovelies noticed my ‘digital voice’ on my recent GRWM video. Thanks to the wonderful advances in technology, the MND Association and ElevenLabs, I have a voice that sounds like me. Our voices are our identity and being able to sound like me when my own voice is slowly being taken away, means everything. Watch the vlog to find out more…

An insight into voice banking and why it is so important to those who may lose the ability to speak. Blog: www.daddydadandme.com Facebook & Instagram: ...

20/03/2026

✨ When Your Stomach Gets Its Own VIP Entrance ✨

Introducing ‘Peggy Sue’, the newest addition to help keep me hydrated, energised and to hopefully put some weight on.

To help others and to raise awareness, I’ve written a blog about my experience of the PEG procedure and the first few weeks. I hope it helps others who are considering the PEG and I’m happy to answer any questions

When I heard that I might need a PEG procedure, it felt overwhelming. I remember the moment clearly about a year or so into living with MND when I met with my neurologist and respiratory consultant. I had many questions, worries, and unknowns about what having a PEG meant. Looking back now, I realis...

12/02/2026

Reflection

I meet myself in glass each morning,�
a stranger waiting in my place.�
The mirror holds a quieter body,�
a map of losses etched on my face.

Once I moved without thinking — �
breath and muscle, promise and speed.�
Now every motion asks permission� from a traitor nerve,
a hesitant need.

My eyes remember who I was:�
the way I laughed, the way I ran.�
But my hands forget the language �they used to speak so well as man.

The mirror doesn’t show the nights —
�the courage stitched from fear and grit,
�the hours where I choose to stay�
when every part of me wants to quit.

It doesn’t hear the negotiations
�between hope and honest grief,�
or see the strength it takes to stand �inside a life that’s grown so brief.

I search for me among the changes,�
for something solid, something true.�
And sometimes, just behind the damage, �I catch a glimpse I almost knew.

Not the body I keep mourning,�
not the ghost of yesterday,�
but a soul still fiercely breathing,�
still here, though altered by the fray.

So if I turn away some mornings,�
if I cannot meet that stare,�
know it’s not because I’m gone —
�it’s because I’m learning how to be here.