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  • Michael Noctor

it's going to be a good summer

It’s just after midnight and my neighbour is doing her best to entertain the building with her singing, including whoops and hollers.


Some of the events of October 15th, 2019 popped into my head the other day. I had refused to go in an ambulance that had come to pick me up in my sister’s – I was living in my Honda at the time, but thankfully and life-savingly I had stayed in my sister’s since arriving back from my beloved Málaga a few days earlier.



I told the ambulance crew I just needed a rest and they went away. I was afraid. I didn’t want to go to Tallaght Hospital to be told I had lung cancer.


I needed to sleep, but I couldn’t. My mind was racing and there was too much going on. Five minutes after my head hit the pillow, I could hear the police searching my car for drugs. Five minutes after that I could hear other police officers talking to my daughter who I had inadvertently e-mailed a stack of pornographic images. That’s when I noticed the camera on top of the bedroom wardrobe. They were observing me from the hospital. My sister came to check on me and I relayed all of this to her. I even pointed out the camera. She told me there was no camera, no police outside, and I hadn’t sent porn to my daughter. I told her I needed help.


I was in such a bad way that the ambulance crew (same one as earlier) had to meet with another ambulance with one of the top dawgs on it to help me. If I’d gone to the hospital any later, it would have been too late.


My neighbour has stopped singing. She can sing until 5am for all I care. She can stand naked outside my apartment door singing her head off for all I care. She’s an unfriendly sort, I’ve discovered, but that’s not something I care about, either.



I haven’t been writing and I was concerned about that until I realized that I’ll start again when it feels right. That realization relaxed me, although it’s not that I’m stressing about it. I’m 451 days off the smokes and my blood pressure is now normal. Under the guidance of my doctor I have weaned myself off the medication. I know getting my blood pressure back to normal doesn’t mean I’ve reduced my chances of being run over by a bus. Still, it can’t be a bad thing.


I wanted to blog about Leo Varadkar’s comment about how it’s going to be a good summer.

I got distracted. That used to happen to me all the time when I’d write. I’d forgotten what it feels like.


I am in the last phase. I don’t know if it’s going to last thirty years or thirty days.


Michael