I am pretty sure that at the end of 2020 I, like most of the world, had great hopes for 2021. To say it was an unwanted rollercoaster ride is at best being very kind. I think the only other time I had experienced such a rainbow of emotions was the year of my operation.
Covid, which had begun to engulf the world didn’t just come visiting. It was the bailiff that stuck its foot in the door and said “Oi Ellis we are going to have a chat, you might as well get the tea on”. Others I know had been hit a lot harder and needed hospital treatment, tragically many had died. I just had 5 days of the worse batch of symptoms that I had ever experienced. It was only later on, I was to realise not only exactly where I caught it but the exact time also.
I had never even heard about ‘micro penises’ and the parallels with prostate cancer recovery, until I had spoken to some guys for my radio show. I shared their despair, albeit temporarily, and the one story of hope I was told about. I spoke about the tragedy of decision regret which led to a wider reflection on decisions I had made wisely and wrongly in my life.
Then that fateful day I got the message from pops wife that he had decided that he didn’t want to continue with his dialysis. That was just the precursor to the s**t storm of emotions, travelling first class on the on its way. I had commented at length, in my last blog, how my dad had prepared or not prepared for the promises he had continually made to me and my sister. I posed the blog and then got a message from his wife to say she had found the Will and thought perhaps I had misjudged him. I re-edited the blog, removing what I had said about him. I may have judged him too harshly. Then on the 23rd of December we got the following message from his wife,
“As to what is happening with the Will. I was told by a lawyer, he pulled the deed to this house and the deed only has Richie and my name on it. He said there is no need to probate the Will. The Will involved the other house which did not have my name on it. Feel free to get a second opinion on the matter. Stay safe”
Basically, he got married and didn’t update his Will. It all goes to her and her 6 kids. It still leaves a whole list of questions that we may never get the answers to. As bitter as it is, I have to walk away from this for my own metal well-being.
Thankfully, It wasn’t all doom and gloom.
I did manage to get in a couple of talks, which was really good and I am itching to get out and do some more once uncle covid stops ruining things. A bigger group of us completed our annual 10K run for Prostate Cancer UK. I managed to achieve my best time ever. I had a friend call me and ask for advice on his prostate cancer diagnosis because he ‘knew I would say it honestly and not sugar coat it’. I changed jobs and the new role promises so much and is a great move for me. Another friend asked me to talk to her partners dad who has a high PSA (300+), but with all that he had read about it, refused to consider a biopsy. An hour later not only had he done a 360 he was happy to do so. Well as happy as you could be having a number of needles ripping bits out of your prostate.
With all of that I am determined to look at 2022 with a child’s eye looking at the tree full of presents on Christmas eve.
I only hope the belt on the roller coaster is firm and gentle and I’m not being led into a rollercoaster cab with someone’s partially digested hamburger still in the corners and frayed seatbelts.
Let’s go 2022.
I Am The One In Three 