Evicting me or my tumour ?


I've had a delicate last 24 hours, all contained within my busy emotional world. Last night as I went to bed there were buttons pushed in my head. I got quiet upset. I can assure you I'm not feeling sorry for myself, but I cried out to my dear late Mam "Help me, I'm in a spot of trouble here". It immediately brought me back to when I was a kid and after falling outside and running in to my house with a bloody knee, crying and looking for the Mammy. 
I'm 48 years old and I just did the same last night and I meant it. In most kids lives, the Mother has a special place. I am the eldest of 3 (brothers) so I was the first born. I'm not sure if that has a bearing on it, but my own relationship with my own Mum never faltered or wavered in the 30 years we shared together. Last nights 'reach out' if you like was the current day 'bloody knee' cry for help. I just have to look to the heavens though. Between herself and St. Pio I'm not afraid to cry for help and indeed support. It's a strength seeking thing for me. 

This morning I was catching up on the weeks news and came across an item that was broadcast on RTE Radio-1 during the week. It was an interview with a very distraught Mother on the steps of the courthouse where a bank was seeking to evict her and her young child from their family home. Her world was about to close in. I could totally empathise with her situation. It might not be on the same plain but my mind totally related her bank to my tumour. Will my tumour knock me off my perch too ? I don't have a learned Judge to even listen to my side of the story. I can't even engage the services of one of the good guys, David Hall either. 
I ended up crying with this woman, yes with her, not for her. As my friend Jack Kavanagh says, we all have our shit, it's just boxed in different ways. As the broadcast progressed, it shuttled forward and we are told a member of the public just quietly contributed a substantial amount of money towards this ladies arrrears, €10,000 from the banks sought after €28,000. Once this was made known, other members of the public followed this secret Santa and we are now up to €15,000 in the kitty. Another member of the public pledged the monthly difference of what can be afforded by the woman and what is demanded by her bank, for a period of one year. The lady is then reinterviewed. What a difference, with her upbeat lucid tones. My own heart lifted for her. Will my bank (tumour) get a similar opportunity? I need to see a blast of light. 
Am I going to get evicted too? Yes, I'm ticking the boxes, getting on with my chemotherapy and handling the side affects. Yes, I'm having my ups and downs but I have to keep pushing forward and it's bloody tiring, but show me the carrot, I'm only seeing the stick right now. 


Padre Pio

Please god, early in the new year, I'll be having a CT Scan, the first since my diagnosis. This will be where I'll need to taste the carrot. The camera never lies so it's going to be one hell of a ride leading up to this scan. I'll need the Mammy to hold my hand that day. If St. Pio is around, he's welcome to join the party too. My late Mum, having a great devotion to Padre Pio and with some of it having rubbed off on me, I'll be having a tribute to my late Mother and St. Pio on Christmas Eve night. It'll be in the guise of a new AidanMurphy.com lapel pin. Early in the new year, I will have a 3rd lapel pin, but this one will be themed more towards my ballooning background.

Thanks as always for reading my blog. 



  1. Aidan. The words just jump off the page. It's amazing how "real" writing is so compulsive. Thank you. Paul

  2. Thanks Capt. Vertigo. Really appreciate the nice words.


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