Three unwritten poems which explain my year
Readers of the blog will know that this is my first post since April. You may not know why though. In this post, I will try to explain my life in 2014, via the medium of yet-to-be-created poems. Hopefully, that’ll make sense by the end of the post.
My mother, Mary, became sick, quite suddenly in late January. She was returning from Galway, where she had just spent the night accompanying an old friend who was herself very sick. Sick enough that she needed constant company. Mum’s friend was keen on her husband getting at least one night a week off, so she sent the word around her circle of friends seeking volunteers to spend the night with her in Galway. A rota was compiled, with my mother putting herself down for one night each month.
On the street in Ballyhaunis, just as she was about to get into my aunt’s car, she got sick. 10 days of varying degrees of pain, sickness and uncertainty followed before she was finally sent to hospital. It turned out she was admitted just in time, as the cause was found to be a tumour in her bowel. It had grown to such a size that it basically blocked and caused her intestine to become ‘perforated’. I’ll let you figure out the implications of that.
She was rushed in to emergency surgery and the tumour was removed. Telling us about it the next day, the surgeon who operated on her expressed the opinion that she wouldn’t have lived another 24 hours if she hadn’t been admitted to hospital. Things were touch-and-go for the next 48 hours while she was kept in an induced coma. All I wanted to do at that point was simply talk to her again. Read the rest of this entry →