Of Friends and God

Circumstances I have found myself in lately have caused me to think ‘what is a friend?’ and ‘why have I got friends?’ and other thoughts of that nature.

When I was a kid a ‘friend’ was someone who would ‘back me up’ in a fight whether over a girl or with my football firm when, for some bizarre reason, I felt it my duty to thump someone eminently bigger than me because he had the audacity to support the opposition team Oldham Athletic were playing.

On so many many occasions I would get thumped by said bigger bloke, end up flat on my back with a busted nose and have to be rescued by my ‘friends’.

In my defence the ‘opposition’ during my ‘football firm’ days was invariably bigger and stronger as I felt I had to ‘prove my worth’ to other members of the firm. I know. I was a pretty stupid kid. Nothing changes eh? 😉 Yep, you’re quite right. When I was a kid I was, not to put too fine a point on it, nuts.

I quite happily continued in this vain until I met my wife. Well, she wasn’t my wife when I met her obviously.

I had and have absolutely no idea why a clearly intelligent lady would choose to spend her life with me. I have always assumed she saw me as a ‘challenge’ but I’m also pretty certain that is unfair on her.

She saw ‘something’. I’ve no real idea what. She’s told me that she saw a nice guy who was lost and wanted to be a nice guy but didn’t know how. Actually, that sort of sounds like it was a challenge really but no matter. This highly intelligent micro-biologist took on the daunting task of turning a lunatic into a decent human being and, to a large extent, she succeeded.

In the process, she saved my life in so so many ways.

Of course my lunatic tendencies have always remained. Sometimes dormant sometimes not so dormant but, without my soul mate I cannot comprehend that I would have made it to 30 let alone nearly 60.

She had a complete mental breakdown due to the ‘pressure of work’ – her employers at Occupational Health Consultant stated as much in black and white. My best pal suggested that being married to me for over 28 years probably didn’t help. I didn’t thump him as he is my best pal 😉

Her health has been poor, particularly psychologically, over the last three years since the breakdown and, finally, her body and mind could no longer cope. She ended up in intensive care on full life support and, just over a week ago, the doctors told me to ‘prepare myself’.

I have never ever felt so lost and frightened in my life. Then, after realising you are lost and frightened, you feel guilty. How can you feel lost and frightened when your soul mate is about to die? You think you’ve got problems? Then you realise you have to be strong for them and for your daughter so you stay strong. Then when your daughter, who has come home with her partner to support you, goes to bed, you go into the garden and cry like you’ve never cried before.

Then you look upwards to the heavens and you say “Don’t you fucking dare you bastard! This isn’t fair! If you want someone that fucking bad then let me die!” and then you think ‘what the hell am I doing? I’m talking to a God that doesn’t exist and telling him to take me instead? Really? I would willingly die for her? Bloody hell. I knew I loved her but only now do I know how much’.

I mean, if there was a God and he agreed this deal I would, I freely admit, be well pissed off as almost certainly, there won’t be a bar but I really meant it. I really meant it and I can hardly believe it. I’m terrified of actually dying, I really really am but I would. I really would if that meant she could live.

I knew I loved her. Only now do I actually realise that I really love her. You always think ‘I’d die for her’ but would you? Really?

Yes. I would. I didn’t know I would I just presumed I would. Now I know I really really would. For the first time in my life I now know what ‘love’ really is. For the first time in over 30 years of being with her I now know I wasn’t ‘pretending’ to love someone. I really did and I really do.

A week last Saturday the doctors said “Prepare yourself”. I admit I thought ‘you don’t know my Carol’. I was right. Five feet nothing, half Scottish and a quarter Irish. Feisty isn’t the word.

She’s not ‘out of the woods’ yet by any means and I know things could still go horribly wrong but the docs thought she’d be dead by now and she isn’t. Life support is being reduced and she’s remaining stable as it is. She’s occasionally awake and knows me and my daughter are there.

She’s held our hands and smiled at us. There are tubes all over the place but she’s coming back to me. I just know it.

Oh, and by the way God? You’ll so regret the deal when I get there and there isn’t a bar. Just so you know mate eh?

As for my friends.

WOW!

My best pal lives and works in Dubai. When he knew what was happening he ‘put the word out’ and my mobile almost exploded with text messages from friends in the north.

My neighbours have been amazing! My Asian neighbours keep bringing me food. “I’ve got a freezer full!” I cry. They don’t care, they just keep bringing it.

Old pals from my airport days are phoning and texting – one of them said his wife is getting some nuns to pray. Nuns? Jesus H! Nuns getting involved in stuff that includes me? That is slightly worrying 😉
 
The old interweb thingy. Being slightly technologically inept I didn’t really think too hard about people I kind of knew over the internet. It’s not real really is it? Well, that’s what people say anyway.
 
Yes it is.
 
People I’ve never met have mailed me and that in itself has been incredible. The love and support from people I’ve never met – and that includes a few who don’t even really like me much – has been overwhelming.
 
Humanity eh? There’s hope for us yet. Even, possibly, me.
 
The National Health Service nurses and doctors in the Intensive Care Unit have been quite incredible – actually, as my wife has spent time previously on ‘regular’ wards the staff in ICU are actually highlighting to me quite how ‘random’ the care can be on an ‘ordinary’ ward. It ranges from excellent to hopeless actually. Still, the NHS is free at least.
 
A good pal said the other day “So, it’s in the lap of the Gods still then?” and he is quite right, it is.
 
I know that I may not get her back still but, considering last Saturday and ‘prepare yourself’, she’s got more fight in her than I would ever know how to have and, I reckon, she’s coming home.
 
I’m not contemplating anything else.
 
The doctors have expressed amazement and are trying hard not to smile too much – just in case.
 
She saved my life.
 
I would give mine.
 
Does it sound strange that I can’t really believe that I really believe I would? It sort of does to me but I would. Well, that dark rainy night in my garden when I looked up, bottle of Bud in hand, soggy cigarette in hand and screamed what I screamed at the night sky I made a deal with a deity I don’t believe in. My next door neighbour heard me I’m told by another neighbour – perhaps that’s why she’s looking at me a bit oddly lately?
 
A deal I will gladly keep to.
 
My friends have been there for me in a very dark time. If it’s dark for me God (or the deity of your choice) knows quite how dark it must have been for my wife.
 
What ever happens I will never forget that. Ever.

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