The Bells, the bells, wrecking my head.


Bells and Cracks, both work for Murf.


 It's been a longer duration than usual since my last blog. I must have been busy, I hear you say. Let me put my hand up and admit to doing little. Since my newly acquired blood clots in my lungs, I have secumbed to Doctors orders and have taken my foot off the accelerator. When I say 'foot' I am speaking in reality but also metaphorically too. My mind has also slowed down (just a little too). Side issues re pain and discomfort that my stomach has recently being experiencing have thankfully sub sided all because of this prescribed regime. I have a new medic on my Oncology Team, 'Dr Darko' so kudos to you Doc for (quiet literally) putting your hand on the pulse with regard to resolving these issues I have been having. This gentleman is the newest member of 'Murf's Medics' and he nailed it with his quick and very accurate diagnosis to my then tummy discomfort. I am of course busy taking my daily injections in the tummy, disolving those nasty clots. As if I had not enough distractions, but hey!!, what's one more huh ? 


"The Bells, the Bells" reminds me of Quasimodo being driven to desperation as the loud bells of Notre Dame resonate way too deep in his mind. I can empathise with this. While my inner ear may not have been hearing 'The Bells' but what it does pick up is 'My cancer, my bastard cancer'. If I listen to it outright, I can indeed sense those real bells in the background...the bells of cancer. Yes, it is a self inflicted situation. That horrible but telling reminder that I am harbouring this awful infliction. NO ! I don't do the feeling sorry for myself, ask anyone that knows me, but it so frustrating when my mind penetrates my anti-cancer barrier that I try to embrace my body with, but you know what? Sometimes it does it's own thing, welcome aboard the human body !!


I have often wondered, as I walk thru a busy shopping centre perhaps, if I then walked over to a person (any person really), sitting quietly on a bench minding their own business and very politely excuse myself and ask them this question: "What do think it would be like to be told right here and right now that you have inoperable cancer". You see, I would like to know if what my very first thought was, has any meaningful connection to what this (random) person might think. My very first thought - comment, within a nano second of seeing Alison that dark morning, when she raced to my hospital bed after I called her was "I will never get to walk Aoife down the isle" followed of course with tears, not rolling but racing down both my cheeks. Even my bad (blind) eye gave up the ghost and released some salty fluid that dreadful morning. That thought re Aoife was in words before my own mind or indeed ears heard it for the first time, if that makes sense? Bear in mind, said surgeon did tell me I had "Pancreatic Cancer and it's nasty".


The point or message that I'm circling here is that, YES, the bells can wreck and might even try to destroy my self inflicted shots of anti-cancer self-defence. It can be so hard to neutralise these toxic thoughts but it's important they are. You see, thoughts are NOT facts and this is something that tends to get overlooked. If and when the dark bells toll for you, remember it's your thoughts that are making it ring, just thoughts, NOT FACT !. Big deep breaths, in the nose, out the mouth and really expel all that breath. This exercise is so simple and you might even be very surprised on how affective it actually is with repositioning your mind to a better place. I do it with my eyes lightly closed. Even stopped at traffic lights, if that moment indeed calls for it,I do it. Worst case is I get a 'beep' and the car behind receives a friendly wave of acknowledgment from me in return. Internal note to my cousin: The latter does NOT mean giving the finger <eeek !!>


As the Leonard Cohen quote at the beginning of this blog takes account of re the cracks, these are not all that bad, they do of course let the light in. It's important that this is never ever forgotten. Today is Friday and as I write this blog from my bed, I can see cracks too, but they are letting lighting IN and I'm very much accepting that light on this, the beginning of a pleasant Bank Holiday weekend here in Ireland.

Thanks so much for reading my blog.

... Xx Murf. 

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