28 December 2012

Last Exit to Beacon

On Dec 27th 2011 I went to hospital. Yesterday I went to the beach. The hospital was warmer, but the view wasn't as nice.
Howth, Dublin, 27th December, 2012
While the rest of you were all busy celebrating the mythical birth of a fig-tree hating community organiser to an unwed teenage mother after an unplanned pregnancy forced upon her by an absentee angry sky-father (who no doubt will be getting a knock on the door any day now from the lads in Operation Yewtree to help them with their enquiries, "Right now Mr YHWH, if indeed that is your real name, would you mind accompanying us to the station. We have a few questions we'd like to ask you about allegations of inappropriate contact with Judean minors in the first century BCE.""Hey man, it was a different time, right, none of us ever asked for ID, right, let me just call my publicist Max first. What? He's been what? Oh, bugger"), some of us were counting down the days to an altogether more personal anniversary, one which sadly seems to have gone unrecognised by our local purveyor of fine cards, gifts and stationery for all occasions (now the proud owner of a sarcastically uttered, "citation needed").

Today, my friends, marks the one year anniversary of my last exit from hospital. While I cannot claim to have been illness-free for the last year, I can, however, proudly boast that no incident in the last twelve months has been severe enough to force me to check in to possibly the only accommodation in Dublin to not only retain its value, but to actually increase its rent in 2012.

Over the holiday festivities, I was chatting to an old friend who mention that her own father had recently experienced the same illness as me, only he had been hospitalised for two months more than me and had been in the worst pain levels for a good bit longer than I was. He's now back on his feet and in the gym on a regular basis - and he's in his seventies! This told me two things, firstly one should never underestimate the power of the human body and mind to overcome any and all trauma and secondly, if a person more than thirty years older than me can have more to cope with than me and bounce back from it, then I really have no right to be shuffling around feeling sorry for myself.

Not that I do, mind you, but it's a good thing to remember if ever I do start to slip down that road. It's a nice milestone to hit at the end of a long year that has seen some joy mixed with an awful lot of sorrow and loss.



At 11:49 am, Anonymous steve said...

congrats man! here's to many more years.


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