The Last Hurrah

I had been meaning to write this post for a couple of days already, but things kept getting in the way, life happened, and all that.

So yeah. An era came to an end on that chilly November day when I dragged my sorry self across the city to attend another BURY TOMORROW concert. At that point, I already knew that it was going to be my last show for the time being, and at least until we know what is going on and have come up with a battleplan.

As I had already mentioned in my previous entry, I have been dealing with additional health issues left, right and center for a year now, and none of them in any way or form got any better. On the contrary. It has gotten to the point of absolute frustration right now, as it sucks out so much life quality …

What I have? Well, so far, there is no official diagnosis, the testing will start in January. But a lot of my symptoms – increased heart rate while standing, shortness of breath, tremors (esp. in my hands), wobbly legs, exercise intolerance, dry mouth, cold extremeties, fatigue, light/sound sensitivity, … – point towards a nasty little fucker called POTS. A condition that is at this point unfortunately a) rare and b) not curable, yet, but there will hopefully some kind of remedy to make things a bit easier on me. Keep in mind – while it does affect the heart and blood circulation, it is a dysautonomia in the nervous system.
Again, I am not saying I do have POTS, but a lot of the signs are pointing towards this.

In the days leading up to the concert, I used my social media accounts to raise some awareness about what is going on, and also bow out of the whole gig going shenanigans I have come to love and enjoy. IF I had to go out, I was going to go out with a BANG! …right?

Spending one last evening with my LORDS AND SAVIORS and some of my Concert Buddies was something I was certainly looking forward to, even if it was going to be a bittersweet evening. And I was going to enjoy myself to the absolute maximum, even if I was going to be all over the place emotionally. Especially since the lads had decided to add “my” song to their set list: “Recovery?”

It is a part of you that you’re gonna have to deal with
For the rest of your life
And it kinda calls into question
Is there such thing as recovery?

That song hits home on an entirely different level, fam.

I have no idea how I managed to last through three opening bands before my BT guys laid down the motherfucking law once again, and all things considered, I made the right decision about stepping away from going to gigs. Yes, it does hurt, not gonna lie, but when your body isn’t in it anymore, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Also, my friend and I were allowed in a bit earlier – thanks to the tour manager – so that we could get barrier to the left side of the stage, there was an old acquaintance of mine who remembered me although we hadn’t seen each other in five years (their “old” Merch Guy, Jimmy, was working on that tour, so when he saw me, he beamed and then we hugged for a bit), and a security guy told us we should just signal him if it got too much so we’d be taken side stage or something. Yes, we did last the full gig, but boy, it was …close.

While waiting for the guys, I noticed how I could hardly keep upright anymore. Fortunately, I found a spot to sit down for a bit, but wowza, fam, that wasn’t cool at all. Managed to talk to bassist Dav and drummer Adam for a while, hugging “goodbye” and had them scribble in my journal. Dav and I found another way to playfully insult each other, which caused some others to laugh out loud. Yeah, I am definitely going to miss this shit …

Bit by bit, we were asked to leave the venue, and I thought getting some fresh, cool night air would do me some good. Just to have a chance at talking to the rest of the band and meeting them all one last time as well as hanging out with some concert friends after the gig.

And all I can say is … I have never met band members who are so down to earth, easy to talk to, approachable, kind, and warm-hearted as the lads in BURY TOMORROW. It’s been a bit over ten years that I first saw them in that tiny, weeny club in Berlin, with a basic back drop on stage, just with their band logo on it. And seeing HOW FAR they have come since, playing their biggest shows to date, including a whole ass huge production on stage gives me Proud Mama Feels. These guys deserve the whole fucking world. I cannot WAIT to see what the future holds in store for them, even though I will be only watching “from the sidelines” now.

It felt SO GOOD to see and hug them all one last time. Talk to them. Hang out with them for a moment. Duwas, their guitarist, came out of their tour bus, smiled at me and said, “Oh my angel!” before he pulled me into a tiiiiiiiiiiight hug. He also told me how he’d always been appreciative of my little Yorkshire flag I had brought with me. I gave it to him, “Keep it as a memory of me …” And that was when he found out about this being my final rodeo. He, too, scribbled into my journal.
Frontman Dani took a lot of time to talk to me, and he really gave me the kindest and sweetest pep talk. He also said that he thought I was doing the right thing by listening to my body and not ignoring the signs, and told me that, if I ever felt like coming to a gig during my “break”, I should just message them and they’d be more than happy to make it as comfortable as possible for me. Or if I wanted to talk to them pre-gig here in Berlin … “stay in touch!” Oh yeah, I certainly will! We also chatted about how my nickname “Kiwi” came into being (given that I had presented them with a little tour mascot – a Kiwi bird “supporting” New Zealand’s rugby NT, the All Blacks), and he grinned and said, “That’s how you’ll always be known to us!”
SEE WHY I LOVE THE SHIT OUT OF THESE GUYS???

These are the pages in my journal, with their heartfelt messages. And trust me when I say EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I look at these pages and read especially Dani and Dav’s words, I get all teary-eyed and emotional again.
My heart is so full of gratitude for them, that’s for sure. Never in my life would I have guessed that I’d be kinda “close” to a band and its members when I went to that gig a decade ago. And what a ride it has been! The hugs, the chats, the jokes, …all that. It means the fucking WORLD, really. And that they are now also supporting ME on my Road to Recovery is just the icing on the cake.
Moreover, the guys MEAN what they say, it’s not just hollow phrases. They CARE. Like one of my pals said the other day: being in this fandom is like being part of a huge family. They couldn’t be any closer to the truth because I found a place where I belong. Where I can be my TRUE self without being judged whatsoever. I have made friends through the band. Created memories with the band that I will treasure in my heart until my last damn breath. I cannot thank them enough for everything they have done for me since that first gig. Their kindness has left me speechless as well at times (like, offering to put us on the guest list or now wanting to help me out when I just wanna come to a gig and cannot queue anymore).

It is “not just a band” … it’s BAND!

And as Dani wrote: “this isn’t goodbye, this is see you soon!”

But for now, I am doing exactly that – look out for me. Because my body wasn’t having it during the days after the gig. I had a hard time to walk DOWN the stairs to the subway entrance. I also hailed a cab when I arrived at the station in Spandau as I couldn’t be ARSED anymore to walk home from the bus stop to my flat (a good 450m). No thanks. I had pretty much lost my hearing in my left ear, despite wearing earplugs, and had the worst tinnitus EVER for several DAYS. So yeah … as sad as it is that I have to step away and “quit” a dear hobby of mine, it’s for the better. At least right now. And who knows, maybe in a year or two from now my ass is back front row.

******
pics: mine