‘I became ill after a loyalist gunman put a pistol to my head,nowIcan’t even get out of bed some days’

Former accountant and financial director Michael Flood (51) was diagnosed with fibromyalgia in 2016. He lives alone in north Belfast, with the support of carers, family and friends. Michael developed a severe form of fibromyalgia as a result of the PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) he suffered in the aftermath of a narrow escape from death at the hands of a loyalist gunman in July 1998. He says:

It was my 31st birthday, on July 9, 1998, at the height of the protests against the Garvaghy Road marching ban and the Good Friday Agreement. I’d nipped out from my house on the Lisburn Road in Belfast to get a burger and a carton of milk but everywhere was closed. Cars were burning and helicopters were circling overhead. The only place that was open was Julie’s Kitchen, near the Village area, which was under siege. When I came out, this guy with a spider tattoo on his neck came up to me and said: ‘What’s the password?’ I asked him what he meant, and he said: ‘Manchester…?’

I said I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about and the next thing he put gun to my head, but it jammed. I lost control of my bladder, unfortunately. He stood there smacking the gun, saying ‘I hate when that happens’, calling me a f ***ing fenian. There was another guy there with a knife and my fight-or-flight response kicked in. I ran as fast as I could to the City Hospital. (I found out later the password was ‘Manchester United’ but they could tell I was a stranger, anyway).

I reported the incident to the police and they asked me to come down to Donegall Pass for a line-up. The guy was one of the 10 — none of the rest looked anything like him — and he glared me out. There was no two-way glass; he could see me. I had to tell the cop I couldn’t identify him and I had to move from the Lisburn Road after that. I was in bits.

I had to take six months off work sick. I was glad to get back to work, as it took my mind off my symptoms, but I was a very different version of myself outside the office. By 2003, I couldn’t continue, and had to retire.

I’ve been in a steady decline ever since. I have mobility issues now and have to use an ambulator to walk to the shops. I have male carers for personal matters and others who come to clean. Sometimes it’s a struggle to tie my shoelaces.

On a scale of one to 10, I’m a 10 in terms of the severity of fi- bromyalgia. It’s really bad. I can semi-function some days; on others, I’m confined to bed. It took so long to get properly diagnosed.

Fibromyalgia doesn’t show up in blood tests and GPs often can’t put a name to it. It’s invisible, there are no obvious outward signs. In fact, it’s so misunderstood that many think it’s laziness or hypochondria.

I soldiered on until it got so bad that I had to really push my GP to get to see a consultant. He identified what he described as ‘chronic persistent pain’ all over my muscular structure and joints and started me on a journey of medicinal trial and error. Nothing worked for me, but not every patient is the same. The last option was to put me on 200mgs of Tramadol, which is a very strong drug, to ease the pain. The next step is morphine, when it becomes unbearable.

People say I look young for my age but inside I feel totally drained and unable to contribute anything to society. Low moods, sleeplessness and cognitive problems — you can’t remember everything — are part of the condition. I was always a high achiever and very meticulous; it’s thought that particularly intelligent people are most affected by fibromyalgia.

It takes a bit of time for family and friends to realise how much pain you are in. They get fed up with your continual cancellations. You have to make up excuses for not meeting up — you tell whoppers instead of complaining about the pain.

You go through the stages of rage and regret, before you come to an acceptance. I’ve always been a very spiritual person and that has carried me through. I see that loyalist’s action towards me as part of his journey, and a learning experience for me. I’d rather see a complete amnesty for people like him, rather than carrying such a burden in my heart. If justice had been done, it might have stopped him doing this to someone else, but imprisoning him won’t alleviate my pain.

In the end, fibromyalgia makes you more circumspect and reflective. You see that society needs to be a bit more caring and understanding. In practical terms, the condition needs to be diagnosed faster. GPs and social services need to be more aware of how debilitating it is. It’s a struggle to gain recognition for benefits and pensions, never mind specialist treatment.

Medical cannabis can help fibromyalgia in a similar way to epilepsy — the actor Morgan Freeman has stated he couldn’t act without it. I’d be first in the queue if they legalised it here. You can get it in tablet form as well. When Stormont — eventually — gets up and running again, I hope to convince the charity to lobby for medicinal cannabis for fibromyalgia.

The cannabis oil that’s available in health stores only takes a little bit of the edge off. It’s not strong enough for this level of pain. The health service needs to go one step further in making the more potent properties of the cannabis plant — which don’t make you high — available for pain relief.

In the meantime, the counselling and CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy) I receive from the charity has been immensely helpful. They have no government funding for their services, yet those voluntary workers provide a lifeline for me and so many others affected by this terrible condition. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

I soldiered on until it got so bad I had to really push my GP to get to see a consultant