Tuesday, 27 September 2011

The Magic Circle

By April 1997 I was back at work. No getting away from it; I needed the money and the debts were beginning to grow to sky scraper proportions. I was at this point, shown the door; the surgeon and the oncologist said 'you can leave now' and so I did. Totally alone, no aftercare, only the support of a family, that had at its heart, two kids 10 and 4. What they saw and grew up with cash, I'll never know; they don't talk about it even at the ages of 26 and 20. Today, things are different; there are specialist cancer nurses, dedicated psychologists, bodies that deal extensively with welfare benefits. Much of the back-bone of information is provided my MacMillan cancer services. This is a an organisation that makes a difference and deserves donations and funding. We all should give what we can afford.

Anyway, I digress. Returning to work after a brain tumour was traumatic especially as you have no idea as to whether you could perform those tasks that you once did with ease . I had a lingering feeling that people were always watching me and writing up their own risk assessment reports on my performance. These feeling were probably self perpetuating and unfbut the paranoia and the stress was very real and active. It fed on fear and that fear became a monstrous reality in late April.

I was in the basement yet again but this time I was looking for computer parts. It came swiftly with no warning I was on the floor, in the dust and the dirt, wondering if this was a bad gig to with no encore. 30 minutes later, and I was stuck in a traffic jam on the M5, in an ambulance, strapped down and with the side rails up to stop me from writhing around and yet, I felt good, with a very clear head, wondering what all the fuss was about.

Back at work, after a week's break, it happened again in the more comfort of the office. A big Grand Mal seizure this time. I knew it was coming and it was came fast like a black tsunami roaring in; the photocopier shuttled back and forth faster and faster, the chatter in the office was so loud that I  thought I had my head trapped in a speaker full of white noise and the worst thing, I could here my dead Dad, constantly ridiculing about all the mistakes I had made in my life. It was a real bad trip. Ugly and vicious. It was a bastard.

I returned again with a real negative attitude. I waited and it came again but things were very different this time; I had a magic circle around me. I had badly underestimated people. I thought I could do everything for myself, stubborn, recalcitrant, I watched as the protective wagons surrounded me.

The Glaswegian arrived first and cradled my head and stopped it from banging on the floor. He swore, smashed the glass ceiling and sent the feeble red faced middle management out the door.

The Biker, came at it with calmness and with his first aid kit. He could cope, there was no hysteria, just reassurance and confidence.

The Young Man, now living abroad, was freaked out at first, but held up his end and constantly asked what he had to do and he did it without hesitation, when he could of just turned away.

Then the there West Bromwich Albion fans and one Liverpool fan, who stood in a protective circle as the management fired the Health and Safety bullets. But the President was still alive and getting better.

Alas, the suits called for the ambulance again and off I went again.

In the twelve years that followed my epilepsy abated and my brain healed but the stress never went away.
Psychologically, I was a mess, and that's when 'The Girl' stepped in. She listened to the moaning, took a crock of shit and anger but still tried to raise my spirits and cajole me through terrible depressions. She could of gave up on me but she did not. Thank god, I would have been finished a long time ago.

So, I was still going in 2008 and friendship, given freely, spontaneously and without question was still around. I had known all along, but never wanted to admit it, that I owe these people big and much more than they will ever know. Thank you.

Happy birthday to me today.

Please support MacMillan, Brain Tumour UK and BT Buddies (USA)

And thanks for the read.

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