Sunday Sermon XXII - The unwelcome return of Rooney and Phoenix...x

Evening dear congregation;

So, this has been somewhat of an emotional week. There have been tears, many self-pitying tears. There have been melancholy days and the HOLE IS BACK! 

On Monday, I noticed a little mouthwash freshened up my nose. By Tuesday my voice had changed back to the nasally whine that I’ve been so desperate to leave behind. By Wednesday I was blowing chunks of lunch down my nose. The hole isn't only back, but I think it's bigger and badder than ever. Massive fail Royal Marsden, massive fail Mr K. 

I am the minority, this much I know. Every day I feel like my life is a series of extremes that continually surprise me, despite every day having more random happenings than most people experience in a month. I just never seem to learn that however slim the chance, it's coming my way. Mr K told me that the chance of this operation failing was less than 1% when i asked him during the early consultative days. Welcome to the minority Jez, you beat the odds again, nice one. 

I was so mental on Wednesday that after an emotional appeal to a team working in Reading (and I mean really inappropriately emotional), I drove down the M4 to Wales before realising I’d missed the junction home to Bristol by 15 or so miles. My head was broken.

However, after 48 hours of self-pitying and 'why me?' syndrome, I woke up on Thursday morning to a much clearer understanding of my situation. I am unable to articulate my kids’ names, Rudy & Felix are once again being called Rooney and Phoenix, and people think I’m deaf or a tad mentally challenged, but I do live a blessed life.

I may have to flush out my nose after eating because anything smaller than a baked bean will find it’s way through the hole, up my sinus cavity and down my nose to the point that the term ‘bat in the cave’ takes on a whole new meaning. I limp a little due to the nerve and muscle damage created by the operation 22 months ago. I’m in pain, long term tramadol won’t touch the sides, cramp and nerve damage pain that I suspect will never go away (no they didn’t tell me about that before they cut me up either).

But, without being a member of the extreme minority I wouldn’t be here to tell this tale, I’d be dead. I wouldn’t have the most incredible beautiful twin boys, I’d be normal and have any number of non-multiple kids and not have the privilege to be a part of something so special. I wouldn’t wake up everyday and raise funds for causes I actually believe in, I’d sell insurance, handle complaints, work for ‘The Man’ and hate it. I have the fortunate emotional disposition of being enlightened through the process of free thinking and having the ability to live life in the moment rather than in fear of the future or as a compromise of the past. Existential being is a gift.  

I don’t subscribe to being part of the majority, so I have no right to strive to be ‘normal’ with respect to this latest set back.

Happy? No, but I’m dealing with it and I’m not going to let this be the last attempt to fix this problem. We don’t give in, we go again. We try something different. Angry? No, because anger has no place in recovery. I have to offer forgiveness in order to collaborate and move forwards without looking backwards. Yesterday was merely learning for today, which in turn gives me strength tomorrow.

Forgiveness is key. I’m not quite at the healing point of being in a position to offer forgiveness to universe for this latest setback to my inner peace, but I’m working hard on it and I know that it's a healthy objective that can only create greater good for everyone involved. 

One love

Jez

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