A bad decision or a way to de-stress?

I really don't know if it was a bad decision or not.  I didn't plan to do it and I suppose even though I knew it was there and what was in it but I just did it anyway. I suppose maybe my sub conscious needed it.

I was thoughtful on Sunday morning.  I realised I needed to earn more.  This isn't through want but necessity.  As a rise at work is highly unlikely, the chances of a lottery win remote and there are no reserves to draw on then I need to work more. Life back on the road working the cabaret circuit again is not really an option, my costumes have gone and, whilst I am fortunate enough to have the skills and tools to make more I really don't want to.   I'm not sure what I'll look for but I need a part time evening and/or weekend job.  

Following on from that train of though I busied myself ironing and sorting and photographing stuff for eBay.  This, between doing chores such as sorting the washing.

It was then it caught my attention.  Steve's memory box.  It wasn't his per se but it is full of his stuff that I've put together in a nice red leather trunk since he died.  That is what I was wondering about in my opening paragraph.  

I sat on the bed and opened it.  I started to read cards he'd received when he was first admitted to hospital, that's 18 months ago now.  So many get well wishes.  Then the tears started and I couldn't stop them and, I couldn't stop reading either.   I didn't read them all, I got side tracked with photographs, photos of Steve as a child, with his Mum, his Granny, his Dad and Brother too.

I'm sure they are lovely memories for them of Steve but for me I just see the smiles and wonder what it's all about, life that is.  The smiles give no indication of the future how cruel it can be.  It's tough and there are a lot of questions.  Some people find answers in religion and others have different reasoning.  I don't need answers though but yet I still wonder why.

The picture is Steve and his Aunt.  She passed away on New Years Eve 2009 with Cancer.  Stephens Uncle was also claimed by Cancer a few months before he was born and then My Steve too.  Why do bad things happen to nice people?  Obviously I'd be biased toward Steve but his Aunt was lovely too, so warm and friendly and a real lady.  Obviously I never met his Uncle but I have no reason to suppose he was any different.  There is no answer though, these are just things that make me think.

 

After I'd shed a few tears I got on with what I needed to do and I sort of felt better. A lot less worried with a better outlook really.  I was still emotional and thoughtful but it made me realise that despite my positivity and polished facade sometimes things do still get to me.  Perhaps my guilty feelings about Mothers Day and thinking about other peoples losses was what did it.  For the most part I can hide from my own feelings but am often moved by other peoples journeys.  Still, I suppose it did me good to have a reality check.

 

Today has been a busy day, there's lots happening at work so I've been concentrating hard on the work I've been doing for most of the day.  I've enjoyed it, oddly.  Yes, I suppose deep down I am one of those people who says they would still work even if they won millions on the lottery.  I may do a different job or work in a different way but I'd struggle to do nothing for a sustained period of time.

 

Anyway, it's time for bed, reasonably early for me too.  I must be getting old!  Oh, and before I sign off please share my blog, if you got here via Facebook or Twitter please Share or Tweet.

 

Thank you and Bye for now,

M

 

 

 

 

 

  

Significantly different

That’s how things are right now. It’s been quite a week since I wrote last. A long and difficult week. I would say it’s possibly been one of the most difficult weeks of recent months and I don’t understand why. I’ve had a few worries, not much more than usual though.



It hasn’t been a particularly busy week, I have kept busy but under my own initiative in the main not under the direction or request of others. I am starting to become aware though of this building stress within me, I am not sure if keeping busy is helping distract me from the thing that’s bothering me or if it’s adding to it. I appreciate being busy though as I can absorb myself in the task at hand instead of sitting and reflecting, perhaps that’s what’s making the blog difficult, having to reflect, all be it for a short time. I am forcing myself to think about things. I still recognise it’s helpful though to me and to others too and re-reading Stephen’s blog of this time last year reminds me of that.



Reading Steve’s blog of November 21st Last year I came across the following paragraph:

I have thought about Mark and what he will do when am not here - we often


laugh that it will be me getting phone calls from the police station saying


that they have picked him up in Tesco shoplifting etc wearing a big Floppy


Hay at the age of 70 - that's our plan you see - he goes slightly erratic


and I go sort him out when were older. Obviously this plan has now changed a


little bit, and I'm doing erratic and odd things and he sorts me out.

It got to me. Yes, I used to enjoy being slightly eccentric, adopting a fun a jovial outlook on life and trivialising things to make them more palatable. All of that has gone. I recognise that person but I have not seen him for a long time.



Back to the present. On Friday, after a trip to Liverpool with a friend I called in to The Trafford Centre to have a wander through the shops, More than anything it was just time out, wandering around aimlessly I wandered from one end to the other. I got to John Lewis and as I walked through the homewares department I saw a cushion on a bed in a display. It was very simple, Grey and Red and had a ‘patch’ embroidered on it which said “You & Me”. It was lovely. I approached the display to take a closer look and then it hit me. There is no “You” in my bed, there is just a “Me”. I fought back the tears, just as I am trying to do now.



Such a beautiful gift and nobody to share it with. As I walked the very long walk to where my car was parked I seemed to pass an endless number of couples, Gay couples, Lesbian couples, some clearly mature relationships and some clearly new but seeing each one gave me a punch in the gut, making me remember loud and clear what I have lost. I know our family and friends have lost too but life for them is as normal. I am the one waking up alone every morning and getting in to a cold and empty bed at night, as I know many others do but every morning I wake alone serves to remind me and, every night I slip in to a cold bed does the same.



Friday was difficult



On Saturday I spent the whole day busying myself. I started wrapping Christmas presents. On finishing the first the person for whom the gift was intended sent me a SMS message. As I completed wrapping the second the recipients arrived at the door. It was an odd coincidence and I can’t help but think Steve had some sort of influence there. The third, fourth and so on did not generate any SMS or visits etc, perhaps for the best and I continued to busy myself being creative and wrapping presents.



On Sunday I did the same again, more wrapping and more creativity. Some gifts have been parcelled up to be sent abroad, they will go to the post office this week.



Well today has seen the start of a new week. I have a busy week this week at work but a few things to look forward to throughout the week. Most importantly though I’m looking forward to the weekend. Time is whizzing by lately. Christmas is looming, beyond that there’s New Year. That’s a whole other blog entry so for now..... Goodnight and thank you for being so patient.

Am I "really" being selfish?

Before I even start this blog I know it will be a bit of a ramble. I have so many thoughts in my mind that I just need to release them all and then see what’s in there. Not sure if that makes sense but I am being selfish for now and this blog is for me. It’s been a tough week and I need the outlet right now.


Firstly I was reminded by a friend last night about the consultant’s analogy when he diagnosed a “cystic tumour”. He said right now they have just a picture of the tumour, much like an aerial photograph from a plane. They can see the factory (tumour) but they can’t see what that factory makes, i.e. they don’t know if it in benign or cancerous cells being produced.

We bought in to that explanation as it seemed simple and plausible. The consultant might have told us what sort of factory it “appears” to be but he didn’t. This isn’t a criticism at all, the consultant was great and Steve almost immediately bought in to him. He was an older gent, much like a granddad; although too young to be Steve’s granddad he had a friendly face and a nice disposition.

Once Steve’s tumour had been identified, in location and size really as we still didn’t have a name. He chose to give it a name. He called it Clive. Clive the clump and, September 22nd would be Clive’s eviction day. Big Sista, (Steve) had decided it would be evicted from the Big Bruvva house.

Steve’s humour was not appreciated by all. Some thought him disrespectful to not take his condition seriously. Steve and I always joked about his tumour, that’s because that the way he wanted it. He figured in much the same way as the monster under your bed (you imagine as a child), is less scary when you picture it wearing bunny ears and a pink tutu by Steve mocking his tumour then it could not harm him.

Even though Steve is no longer with us I still like to think his tumour didn’t get the better of him. It didn’t rob him of his dignity and, I only have good memories of Steve. I reckon most, if not all, of his family and friends also have good memories as none of them saw him “ill”. He carried on regardless. I knew he was struggling. Struggling to stay awake, struggling to keep on walking or talking or being sociable but, Steve NEVER gave in to it. He would not allow it.

When we went to Scotland in April for his birthday he found the constant walking and sightseeing tiresome and difficult. He never let on. Not to our friends anyway. I knew because I knew Steve but he masked it well. Sometimes I wish he hadn’t. Would we have taken it more slowly if he had been honest? Probably. And that is what Steve DIDNT want. He wanted to be “normal” so he kept quiet and I supported his choice.

The same with work. He wanted to be “normal”. On the Friday before he died he “worked from home” as usual. Just 5 days later he was dead. Nobody understood his desire to work and maintain a routine. I did. He didn’t want to let go of the life he loved and never for one minute did he believe that Cancer would win.

Cancer hasn’t won. Because he didn’t deteriorate or become bedbound he will always remain young and vibrant, happy and cheerful. Even on the Sunday, before he died on Wednesday, he joked with a friend (G) and was happy and positive. He was the last friend really to see Steve “well”.

Re-reading that last paragraph is difficult through the tears but that, I suppose, is why things have been so tough. Steve was never “ill”, he became a little poorly and then died. All within days.

Steve “evicting” his tumour was typical of him. Dumb it down so people didn’t worry. He was petrified, (and so was I) but he never let on to anyone.

I received a phone call today from Steve’s Macmillan nurse, she asked how I was. It took me by surprise but, it was lovely to hear from her. She really cheered Steve up and, although he wasn’t in constant contact with her she remembered him when we saw her at Christies Hospital in the corridor and she made a hugely positive impact on Steve. Just being herself. She is a lovely person and SO easy to speak to. I can’t sing her praises highly enough and, on top of all that she came to Steve’s funeral. She didn’t need to and I wouldn’t have thought any less of her if she didn’t but she came. I owe her a HUGE hug when I see her next.

The phone call was lovely and it turns out she has been meaning to call for a while. I know that feeling, I have been “meaning” to message a few of our friends for a while and have even promised to go for coffee with a few but have not got to do that yet. I have not forgotten but I don’t want to inflict my melancholy on them. Some friends just get that from me anyway although I would prefer them not to, sometimes it is impossible to avoid.

Moving on, forward, upward, positively, all “good” words to make me feel better, I received a text from a friend this week to ask about meeting up this weekend. It was unexpected but VERY much appreciated. I have had lots of offers over the past weeks and months and I love all of our friends for that but I guess it’s just “pot luck” at the moment if they catch me on a good day or bad. If it’s a good day and I say yes then I tend to not go back on that. On a bad day I’d probably decline an invitation, even though I know I run the risk of not being asked again. I just hope people understand that I am trying. I WANT to feel happy but sometimes my heart, sometimes my head and sometimes both say NO!

Fortunately right not I feel the bad days are getting fewer or not quite as deep. The good days have not increased proportionately but, I am now experiencing “neutral” days. That’s a bonus. The “happy” medium between both ends of the scale.

Well, for now that’s about it. I do have loads more swimming around in my head but I guess that’s enough for now.

Love to you, whoever and wherever you are, I know you care because you are reading. I care that you care enough to spend your time reading. Thank you, sending big hugs xxx

Mark x

You don't die from a broken heart...

...you only wish you did.

I know this to be true as I am still alive to write this for you and yes, I have wished I could be with Steve, whatever it takes. 

The past few days have been tough.  I mentioned a few days ago the anniversary of Steve being admitted to hospital.  One year ago today he was discharged from hospital.  He was discharged following an appointment with a Consultant Neurosurgeon.

The meeting was at a different hospital, the one near our home so, we collected Steve's belongings and drove over to the hospital.  Steve's Mum had decided she wanted to go too, even though Steve didn't want that, (he just didn't want the fuss), he was beyond putting up an arguement and just accepted it.

We waited outside the ward for our appointment.  A very secure ward with restricted doors etc so only authorised personnel were allowed in.  We were shown to an office and asked to wait.  Steve was sat alongside me gripping my hand tightly, he was SO scared but put on a brave face.

The Consultant entered the room, a friendly looking older gent closely followed by a nurse, in uniform but holding a leaflet.  One glance at the leaflet and I saw the word "Macmillan" across it.  My heart sunk and I guessed what might be coming.  She placed the leaflet face down on the table next to her.  It was too late, I had seen it and Steve had too.

The meeting seemed a bit of a blur to Steve, he engaged with the consultant but although he heard the words he didn't remember.  I had to go over it again for him when we got home.

The consultant told us that at present the only diagnosis he could give was that it was a cystic tumour.  This meant that it is a tumour which is of indeterminable substance.  He couldn't say if it was cancer or not and would not be drawn to make a comment as to his opinion of it.

The tumour appeared, from the scans, to measure around 3cm by 5cm, around the size of a large egg.  He showed us the scan and we could see how large it looked, it seemed to take up almost a quarter of the space his brain was occupying.  It explained the headaches.

He told Steve that he would be admitted to hospital the following week for major brain surgery and that he would be performing it.  He explained the procedure, called debulking and explained the risks, death from anaesthetic, death from complications death from etc etc.  We asked about the alternative, it wasn't very attractive, it was death. 

It was odd that he knew this tumour could kill Steve but didn't know what it was.  With hindsight I think he probably had a pretty good idea what it was but wouldn't commit until absolutely sure. 

Steve asked about out holiday, remember we were due to go on holiday early in November for 3 weeks.  All he would say is that he can't advise one way or another until the biopsy has been done.  He said if it is benign then a holiday may be just the thing he needs to relax and recuperate, if it is malignant then further treatment would continue as soon as possible to provide him with the best possible chance.

As a young, fit and healthy man he said Steve had a very good chance of making a full recovery.  He did say though that he could expect to feel tired for around six months as brain surgery can affect energy levels for quite some time.

The rest of the day we were numb.  We were grateful to be reunited at home but we were numb.

Twelve months on from that and I feel numb again.  I am brutally aware of what happened next and of my current situation but I'm managing to stay relatively composed (almost).  I cant think of very much else at the moment but I am trying to be strong.  Steve was and remained so thoroughout his journey.  I can't call it an illness as he refused to let it make him ill. 

Stephen showed more courage than I ever thought imaginable.  He called me his rock.  He was mine too.  His courage and determination was a constant inspiration to me and still is. For that I am grateful and always will be.

Decisions Decisions....

I really am trying hard to get back in to the swing of writing a blog on a daily basis.  I suppose if I am honest I became aware that my posts were being "monitored", I don't mean by my/our usual readers but "other" so it sort of put me off but now I realise that I cannot be criticised for expressing my feelings, opinions or facts, feelings and opinions are fine and as long as everything else is fact then that's fine.  In case you are sat there wondering "is it me?" the chances are that the answer is no, sorry.

Anyway, today I spent the most part of the morning on the phone, I spoke to a fried first, she has someone dear to her in the latter stages of cancer, it is so sad and it is easy to feel helpless because that's what you are.  It is so hard knowing you can't do anything other than wait for mother nature to take it's course, and hope it is swift.  I suppose we didn't have to suffer it for long, Steve's passing was relatively quick, it feels uncaring to see it 'written' down but until you experience it then you can't condemn it.  I won't explain, it is too painful and would take too long and I won't enter into debate about it either.

After that my next phone call was very different, funny, interesting and exciting all in one call.  Needless to say though I spent the largest part of my morning chatting.

This afternoon I logged on to work, I reduced my emails from well over 1200 up around 700, it's like looking at a time capsule.  I had a few emails today though, well not today but I saw them today from around the time Steve died, they really took the wind out of my sails, unexpectedly nice emails which made me think again, not just about Steve but also about what I have lost.  Not just though what I have lost but what his family have lost, his friends and his colleagues too.

About this I feel selfish really.  I have thought about my loss and that of his family and my family but what about his friends.  The friends who used to turn to him for support now have no one. The friends who would turn to Steve for advice and who would share secrets with him, he never told me who or what but I know he was always there for his mates.  I would like to think they can count me as a reasonable stand in for Steve but I know I cannot replace him or their history together and nor would I want to.  I guess I just realised they miss him too.

This evening I have been distracted again, not a bad thing I suppose but with the TV on in the background I am conscious that I no longer laugh at things I used to, I don't remember the last time I properly laughed, laughing without inhibition or worrying whether it is appropriate.

I do remember a time when I did laugh though.  It was the day after Stephens brain surgery last year.  Steve and I had booked tickets for a show in Bury, it's an LGBT event and we bought tickets for a friend and his hubby as a birthday present.  There was a local comedian, another comedian and some singers.  It was a good night despite everything else.  I wasn't going to go as it was the day after Steves surgery. He wanted me to go so I made a deal, I went to see him in the afternoon and depending on how well he was would depend on whether I went or not.  When I saw him in the afternoon he had made huge improvements from the previous night so I agreed to go.  

My parents went to see Steve that night and were amazed how well he was. He was discharged the following afternoon so that shows how quickly he made progress.  Major brain surgery on Wednesday and sent home with 36 surgical staples in his head on Friday.  That puts me in mind of another story though but I won't go in to it just now.

Anyway the show is on again this year, the same local comedian /compere and a few others, not sure if I can bring myself to go.  I want to as I had a really great laugh last year, the type of laughing which hurts your sides.  I am sure this year will be as funny but, (and there always seems to be a but), it is on the anniversary of Steve being given 12to 18 months to live.  I don't  know how I will feel.  I know Steve would want me to go again but I really don't know.  Here's the link: (not sure why the hyperlink won't work)

http://themet.biz/event/not_the_only_gays_in_the_village/1108/

It's a tough decision.  I don't want a Harry Potter repeat though where I sob all the way through but, I know there are a whole heap on anniversaries to come.  I really don't know.  I want to..... but I don't.......

No point in stressing about a decision now anyway, I'd need to see who else is up for going so I can think about it another time.  It's bed time now.

Goodnight,
Mark xXx

Lost

Thats how I have felt this weekend.  yesterday was a lovely day weather wise but not really for me.

After writing my blog in the morning I showered and then took the car for a wash, I cam home and polished it, more for something to pass the time than anything, it certainly didn;t really need it but it killed a few hours.

After that I sat here at the computer, not really doing much.  I sort of snapped myself into action around 6ish and decided to go out, I called to see friends but they were out, I sort of guessed they were and I was perhaps glad they were, I would have been crap company I guess but I wanted to be out of the house.  I went for a walk instead around the waterside near The Lowry centre and Media City UK.  I took the camera, my "justify walking on your own" tool.

When I got home I had  something to eat and then returned to the computer.  Again, another way to opt out of watching TV or talking to people.  I just felt low I suppose.  The events of last week with work has really got to me and in a way I suppose unsettled me, I am feeling like i'm being rushed into putting Stephen aside and moving on.  I know I need to find a new normal ASAP but pushy attitudes havent helped, I guess it will sort itself out in the end.

I ended up going to bed early, midnight is early for me lately.  As a result I was awake before 7 this morning, I lay in bed reading on the internet via the phone.

Today has been another low day though.  I didn't want it to be.  I wanted it to be productive sorting things for the move (whenever it is) and, this morning I finished customising a shirt for a friend that I promised to do long before Steve died. 

After that is was shower and dressed then I decided to get a load of stuff we're clearing on to eBay, (I still say We even though it's really just Me now - old habits etc...).  I procrastinated for ages, finally I did it though and got almost 60 listings on today. 

I have had no less than 4 invites out to lunch today, sadly I declined them all. I wasn't being mean but I didn't feel sociable, I knew I would be rubbish company and my friends asked because they care, they don't need to have their day blackened by the big cloud I have been dragging around all day.  I did have a genuine excuse though, the stuff that went on eBay today was photographed before Steve died so again, it's about time I caught up.

I sort of guess if I get "My" stuff sorted, the eBay etc then I can apply the same methodology to work and getting back to it.  I don't know if it will work but I guess one of my concerns about work is that when I am back I won't have time to settle back in, it'll mean hitting the ground running, I think up to now I have managed a walk and thats it..... I'd feel lost there too, long story but I guess no small part of it is that it is incredibly difficult for a gay guy to "fit in" within a hetro environment.... (and not even metro-hetro at that), it's never bothered me before but right now I feel vulnerable so it's daunting, the pressure just serves to confirm my concerns.

This evening I have spoken the T via email, she's a gem and has sent me the lyrics to a song I was told about before Steve's funeral, the song is lovely but here is an excerpt of the words....

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you:

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend

It has struck a chord with me, it did the first time I heard it and again, hearing this has set me off again.  I guess it's time for bed.  One soggy pillow coming right up...