When your heart runs out of time: A cancer story

I’m very slowly packing up for my move to Glasgow today. My spine is only letting me pack slooooooowwwwwwwllllyyyyyyy, but most of my books and comics are loaded up, a chunk of DVD’s are done, The kitchen needs packing up but a friend is coming round to do that for me as the slipped disc is making it so that any work I do is in short 15 minute bursts followed by an hour of sitting or lying down.

The plan is to go to Glasgow and just recuperate from the stroke and when I have my hopefully final treatment in the New Year, beat the cancer. This means leaving Bristol and as I write this sat among boxes containing my life I feel forced to ask the question ”why couldn’t I collect things that aren’t bloody heavy?’.

But change is coming, and not a moment too soon.

Friends are round tomorrow to help load the van for me, then to the pub to thank them with beer, and tomorrow night will be the last night I’ll spend as a resident of Bristol. For all it’s faults, I love Bristol and although I’ll come back for visits I’ll miss it, but I need to take time out to recuperate, not to mention have a fresh start which moving back to Glasgow provides me. There’s always going to be a place in me that’ll be Bristol, but time to move on.

Things are changing. Donald Trump is American president, Brexit is coming, the far right are empowered, and Leonard Cohen is dead.

2016 is (to use the now dreary analogy) feeling like the end of a season of an American TV programme. I prefer to compare my own situation with Doctor Who’s regeneration trick , so I”m simply just going to regenerate into whomever I’ll be next, and whatever I’ll do next.

So that’s me for blogging in Bristol. Next blog up will be written in Glasgow. Wish me luck…

2 thoughts on “When your heart runs out of time: A cancer story

  1. Pingback: That Was Then but This Is Now: A cancer story | My Little Underground

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