Post by 2Loftus on Aug 9, 2024 0:40:33 GMT
My son is a QPR fan and former season ticker holder with me. His first ever match was the League One Playoff Final against Cardiff at the Millennium Stadium.
Bill Shankly said, “Some people treat football is a matter of life and death. But it's more important than that.”
Actually, it isn't...
It's just gone 01:20 in the morning and I've just got in.
Yesterday I rode up to London from Sussex at 05.30am on my motorcycle.
I went to see my son Jamie at Kings College Hospital in Denmark Hill.
I spoke to his consultant and his team and watched him go into theatre at 9.30am after two hours' prep.
He's had a brain tumour for nine years and undergone four operations in that time, each addressing the cysts which surround his tumour, which had given him cognitive, visual and coordination difficulties over that time.
Each op bought him another few years of reduced symptoms and greater functionality.
Yesterday was the big one.
His brain already had two titanium tubes drain fluid of cysts and his skull had two silicon plus under his scalp to syphon off fluid in the event of pressure build-up.
There was nowhere else to go.
Yesterday's operation was on the tumour itself, on his mid-brain/brain stem - where the whole body's central nervous system passes from the brain into the spine.
An operation they'd been putting off for nine years because of the risks involved. An operation that could leave Jamie unable to see, eat, walk, speak - even breathe unaided.
The operation lasted 11 hours.
At 10.00pm we got the call, we could come and see him in ICU.
The operation went well and he was responding to speech, wiggled his fingers and toes following prompts and replied verbally (if monosyllabically) to questions.
The best bit of the day?
Jamie's girlfriend said one of their friends had popped round to their to offer moral support and eaten all their biscuits.
Through his morphine-induced fug he raised a middle finger in the customary style.
So why the fuck am I telling everyone about this? Possibly because I have drunk at least a third of a bottle of whisky.
But...
1
I have suffered from depression for some years. Ups and downs, good spells and shit spells. It's likely many on the forum have in the past, or still do, suffer similarly. Get it out there - talk to friends, family, or your GP. Your mental health is important.
Don't be afraid to ask for help. When you're feeling that shit, things really can only get better.
2
The neurosurgeon has been with Jamie for all of those nine years, offering incredible support, expertise, encouragement - and friendship and continuity.
He is Iranian.
His team, most of which have also known our son (and my wife and I) over those years, are Chinese, Malaysian, West Indian and Egyptian.
So to the racist fuckwits who have been rioting over the past few days, many of whom have required hospital treatment themselves from multi-ethnic doctors and nurses, fuck you and take note of who bandaged you up.
Bill Shankly said, “Some people treat football is a matter of life and death. But it's more important than that.”
Actually, it isn't...
It's just gone 01:20 in the morning and I've just got in.
Yesterday I rode up to London from Sussex at 05.30am on my motorcycle.
I went to see my son Jamie at Kings College Hospital in Denmark Hill.
I spoke to his consultant and his team and watched him go into theatre at 9.30am after two hours' prep.
He's had a brain tumour for nine years and undergone four operations in that time, each addressing the cysts which surround his tumour, which had given him cognitive, visual and coordination difficulties over that time.
Each op bought him another few years of reduced symptoms and greater functionality.
Yesterday was the big one.
His brain already had two titanium tubes drain fluid of cysts and his skull had two silicon plus under his scalp to syphon off fluid in the event of pressure build-up.
There was nowhere else to go.
Yesterday's operation was on the tumour itself, on his mid-brain/brain stem - where the whole body's central nervous system passes from the brain into the spine.
An operation they'd been putting off for nine years because of the risks involved. An operation that could leave Jamie unable to see, eat, walk, speak - even breathe unaided.
The operation lasted 11 hours.
At 10.00pm we got the call, we could come and see him in ICU.
The operation went well and he was responding to speech, wiggled his fingers and toes following prompts and replied verbally (if monosyllabically) to questions.
The best bit of the day?
Jamie's girlfriend said one of their friends had popped round to their to offer moral support and eaten all their biscuits.
Through his morphine-induced fug he raised a middle finger in the customary style.
So why the fuck am I telling everyone about this? Possibly because I have drunk at least a third of a bottle of whisky.
But...
1
I have suffered from depression for some years. Ups and downs, good spells and shit spells. It's likely many on the forum have in the past, or still do, suffer similarly. Get it out there - talk to friends, family, or your GP. Your mental health is important.
Don't be afraid to ask for help. When you're feeling that shit, things really can only get better.
2
The neurosurgeon has been with Jamie for all of those nine years, offering incredible support, expertise, encouragement - and friendship and continuity.
He is Iranian.
His team, most of which have also known our son (and my wife and I) over those years, are Chinese, Malaysian, West Indian and Egyptian.
So to the racist fuckwits who have been rioting over the past few days, many of whom have required hospital treatment themselves from multi-ethnic doctors and nurses, fuck you and take note of who bandaged you up.
