Gary Beadle - Gaz (And My Parsnip): The Autobiography of Geordie Shores Ultimate Lad

I dont shy away from anything. As youll find out as you read this book, thats how I got on Geordie Shore and thats how Ive always lived my life literally from the moment I was born.

Im also a bit competitive. Okay, okay, Im proper competitive. I dont like anything or anyone to beat me and I never have. You only have to watch me and my mate Scott going head to head on the show to see that.

But its this attitude thats got me to where I am today, and I like to think its probably the only reason Im even alive. Because when I was born on 22 March 1988, in Hexham, Northumberland, no one could have fancied my chances much.

Apparently I couldnt wait to turn up and start causing trouble, because I was born more than two weeks earlier than I should have been.

I actually spent the first two years of my life in and out of hospital with really bad asthma. And I mean really bad. Bad enough to make me regularly stop breathing.

Mam her names Shirley was a trooper. She already had one kid, my sister Claire, who was two when I came along, plus she had a job in a bank, and now suddenly she had a kid who kept threatening to die on her. It cant have been easy, thats for sure.

The first time I had an asthma attack I was literally a newborn and Mam was terrified. Shed found me all blue and floppy in my cot and called 999 in a panic.

They told her to bring me in, because there was no time for an ambulance and every second mattered if I was going to survive. My tiny airways were closing fast and starving me of oxygen. I cant imagine how scared Mam must have been back then.

My dad, Kevin, drove us to hospital and Mam was on the phone to a doctor the whole time. He kept telling her to keep me conscious, so she repeatedly slapped me in the face, yelling: Keep awake!

But it was no good, and I had lapsed into unconsciousness by the time we arrived at A&E. Quick-thinking doctors stuck me in an oxygen tent, where I would stay for days. No one could tell if it was already too late.

It was touch-and-go for a long time, and the docs told Mam later that if she hadnt found me at the exact moment she did I would have died in my bed. My death would have been attributed to cot death and that would have been the end of me.

I obviously dont remember any of that terrible time, but after I survived that first attack I practically lived in the hospital. Mam says that even then I had an eye for the ladies. I used to smile at the fittest nurses (Ive always had good taste) and theyd tell her I was definitely going to be a heartbreaker when I grew up. Apparently a great big grin works like a charm on the lasses, no matter how old you are.

I was put on loads of steroids to strengthen my lungs and an asthma medication called Ventolin to open my airways, plus I had to wear a nebuliser when I went to sleep. This was a massive piece of kit with a mask attached to it, and I had to wear it all night to keep me breathing. Proper sexy, thats for sure.

But I didnt really know any different, and I was always a happy kid, Mam saw to that. She never showed me how scared she was, she just devoted herself to looking after me and making sure I had an amazing childhood.

My parents split up when I was around three, and I remember very clearly Dad leaving the house on that day. He was a part-time singer in a band and was always out at night performing in clubs and pubs a bit like me now, I guess so I dont really remember him being around all the time when I was really little. But that day he packed his bags and walked out and I remember asking, Wheres Dad going?

Mam didnt really know what to say, but she made sure that coming from what was termed a broken home back then never affected either me or my sister.

After my parents divorced, they were always friendly and Id see Dad every Saturday, so we had regular contact. It was great. Hed walk in and sit at the same kitchen table, just as he had when they were married, and Mam would make him a cuppa like she always had. He was never an absent dad or anything. Between us we all made it work and were still a very close family today.

Having asthma didnt stop me being an outdoorsy kid. I grew up on a neat and tidy estate called Ruskin Court, in a small village called Prudhoe, about eight miles outside of Newcastle. I was always out and about doing something. I hated being cooped up indoors.

I used to come tearing down the road on my skateboard or bike and I was always falling over and coming home with cuts and bruises. Mam says now that she could hardly keep up with the things I was doing, because it was always something different. I picked up new skills very easily, especially if there was a ball involved.

Mam always tells this one story: it was a summers evening and I was outside playing tennis with these two ten-year-old lads. I was hitting the ball all over the place, using nice clean serves, running them ragged, until eventually she came out to fetch me home and to bed. When she got to us, the two older lads were completely out of breath while I was just grinning, tennis racket in hand.

How old is Gary? they asked her, wheezing. They were a little embarrassed when she told them I was only three.

At that age I didnt seem to understand that I was really ill and I had no fear at all. I threw myself into everything I did so I must have been a right handful. Although Mam was too nervous at first to take me overseas because of my condition, we always had amazing holidays and days out. We visited water parks and went go-karting and she always made sure we had something fun to look forward to.

When I was old enough to go to school, Mam was still cautious about leaving me alone, so she got a job as a dinner lady there so as to be on the spot in case anything went wrong. Anything could set off my asthma humid weather, frosty conditions, a cat strolling by my airways would close and Id drop to my knees and Mam would have to race me to the hospital. Again.

At my first school, Prudhoe West First School, I loved chasing all the girls in the playground. Theyd always tell Mam that they were my girlfriends and Id innocently pretend I didnt know what she was on about. But I did like having the girls after me, even then.

I may have always been active, but because of the asthma I did have my limits. I noticed that the other kids could keep going for ever while I often struggled to breathe and I didnt like it at all. It was very frustrating.

If I got out of breath I never wanted anyone to know, so Id hide behind Mams legs in the playground and ask her to cover for me. It made me determined to beat whatever it was that was stopping me, so I took up every sport there was, in order to get fitter. And I especially liked competitive sport.

Our first proper holiday was to Tenerife where we went when I was about four. Once Mam got a little less scared about me collapsing and dying we holidayed there a couple of times every year without fail.

She bought me this mint T-shirt to wear on my first trip over there a bit of a warning to everyone, I guess. It read: Here comes trouble

In the resorts, Id ask her for spare change and go and challenge the older lads to a game of pool. I didnt really know what I was doing but I figured it out pretty quickly, just so I could beat them. I couldnt even see over the table without standing on a chair, but Id get the balls down, somehow.

They always held these competitions in the kids club, where they gave out brightly coloured certificates to the winners. It was like showing a red rag to a bull: I needed to win them all of them. Whether it was swimming, darts, table tennis Whatever the contest, I had my eye on winning it.

Mam used to tell me I had to just enjoy taking part, and dont get me wrong, I did, but it was the winning I was most interested in. I just loved being the best.