Take Care

When you’re unwell, do you allow others to take care of you, or do you prefer to soldier on alone? What does it take for you to ask for help?

I am the son of a doctor and a nurse so I’ve grown up not really being allowed to be ill! That’s the on running joke anyway, but my parents do help.

I’m fortunate enough that I don’t get sick often. I get a cold every year just like everyone else I guess, and sometimes I can feel run down, but I rarely get “properly” sick.

One New Year, sometime around the Millennium, I’d been sick for a few days, failing to keep anything down. I went to the bathroom sometime late evening with the ball fairly imminently dropping. As I crouched over the toilet again, what felt like every muscle in my body cramped up. I was lying in the foetal position and could open my hands or even shout for help. On that occasion I was very pleased to be able to allow my parents to help and was very grateful they knew what to do. I wouldn’t have done if roles were reversed.

My parents were also there to take me to see some lovely ladies who would fill my hole everyday. It was so uncomfortable to start with that I wouldn’t have been able to take myself. Fortunately the place where the infected cyst used to be healed on time.

In those instances, I’m not sure soldiering was an option. Maybe with my cyst, I could have got the bus to town and walked to the hospital but, as some of my friends know, one of my great skills is sweating and it was particularly hot when I was trying to keep that wound clean!

A Dustland Fairytale beginning
With just another white trash county kiss in ’61.
Long brown hair and foolish eyes.
He’d look just like you’d want him to
Some kind of slick chrome American prince.

A Blue Jean serenade.
Moon River, what’d you do to me?
I don’t believe you.

Saw Cinderella in a party dress,
But she was looking for a nightgown.
I saw the devil wrapping up his hands,
He’s getting ready for the showdown.
I saw the minute that I turned away,
I got my money on a pawn tonight.

A change came in disguise of revelation, set his soul on fire.
She said she always knew he’d come around.
And the decades disappear
Like sinking ships but we persevere.
God gives us hope, but we still fear what we don’t know.

Your mind is poisoned.
Castles in the sky sit stranded, vandalized.
The drawbridge is closing.

Saw Cinderella in a party dress,
But she was looking for a nightgown.
I saw the devil wrapping up his hands,
He’s getting ready for the showdown.
I saw the ending when they turned the page,
I threw my money and I ran away.
Straight to the valley of the great divide
Out where the dreams all hide.
Out where the wind don’t blow,
Out here the good girls die.
And the sky won’t snow
Out here the bird don’t sing
Out here the field don’t grow
Out here the bell don’t ring
Out here the bell don’t ring
Out here the good girls die

Now Cinderella, don’t you go to sleep.
It’s such a bitter form of refuge.
Why don’t you know the kingdom’s under siege
And everybody needs you?
Is there still magic in the midnight sun,
Or did you leave it back in ’61?
In the cadence of a young man’s eyes,
Out where the dreams all hide.

Dustland Fairytale by The Killers

I probably need to explain why I put this song at the end. First reason – it’s one of my favourites and, well, any excuse… Secondly, it was written to tell the story of Brandon Flowers’ parents, with the last verse about his mother’s battle with cancer

It’s such a great song, everyone should hear it:

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