Felix NEill

I’d better start all of this off with a disclaimer.

I have no idea if what follows is of interest to anyone who reads this blog. This is some personal stuff I'm writing about because it feels important to me. I don’t really know who is interested in my opinions or the details surrounding my circumstances, or if people just come here for the music.

I’ll be honest and say that I’ve struggled in the past with judging the purpose and scope for Castles In Space. Is it solely about the music or does the writing make it a better blog?

From my perspective, Castles in Space is a more fulfilling experience when I get to sound off and people engage and discuss this stuff with me, otherwise, here I am just tossing off into the great cyber-yawn. I've had an ongoing dichotomy about whether to include personal stuff up on here or just keep it about the sounds. The fact is that the personal stuff occasionally bleeds into the blog whether I want it to or not, and it’s at those times that the writing feels more satisfying to me.

Anyway, this whole area of personal life intruding on the blog was brought into sharp relief earlier this year when I shut down Castles In Space without much explanation. I know this left some of you feeling frustrated and disappointed, but to your enormous credit the response from the vast majority of you was supportive and understanding and for that I am truly grateful. It meant a lot to me then and it still does now.

However, I think I wanted to explain what was going on around that time and to talk a little bit about my year. I think mainly for the reasons that I’m hoping that writing about this might help me put things into some perspective and also I think (at least hope) that a few of you might find this illuminating into the causes of my brief disappearance earlier in the year.

Everyone else go straight to the last paragraph of this piece. See you over at Spinster’s Rock.

Still with me? OK. Well, to place the story of my 2009 into context, you probably need a few pertinent background historical details. In 1982, aged 17, I was involved in a serious car accident. One weekday Autumn lunchtime, out of the blue, in the middle of a country lane, I very nearly lost my life. I needed a lot of extra blood while they put me back together and in 1982, blood in the UK was not screened for several viruses that are routinely tested for these days. Some of the blood I received during the blood transfusion was infected with the Hepatitis C virus.

Hep C is a chronic liver disease which is often very serious in some patients, but the effects and impact can vary massively from person to person. I was lucky enough to be virtually asymptomatic for years and tested positive for the virus completely unexpectedly while I was being routinely tested for something else. From then until now, I have been in regular contact with the hospital, probably the finest in the country in this field, who have monitored progress and impact of the disease over the years. In July 2008, following my fourth liver biopsy, the decision was taken that because the disease was starting to cause some damage to my liver which was showing up in the biopsied tissue, the time was right to undergo the only current treatment which is available for the virus. In my case, this meant a 48 week course of weekly, self administered Interferon injections and 1200mg of Ribavarin, daily. Over the course of 48 weeks, that's a lot of drugs.



In January this year, I commenced treatment.

In common with the different ways in which different people are affected by the virus, it's equally true that patients respond in different ways to the treatment. However, these are serious drugs. One doctor told me that taking this "combination therapy" was similar to the effects that would be felt from a long term, low level course of chemotherapy. That being the case, no one gets through this without feeling the impact of some fairly full-on side effects.

I'm not going to go into too much detail about how the drugs have affected me over the course of this year, but suffice to say, I have felt the full brunt of the typical effects that I was warned about, and it's been hard work. There is much information available on the internet for those who wish to seek out more, but I don't want to dwell on that here. For one thing, I still find it immensely depressing even thinking about what this year has been like. I'm steadfastly and resolutely looking forward.



Around June, almost six months into the treatment, I was feeling the full pressure of a severe dip in my health when I decided that I could literally no longer manage to keep the blog going. It was a bad time. I just couldn't keep the plates spinning any more and felt I had no options other than to reduce commitments and external pressures. In retrospect, I was probably right to do this, but I could have handled it a lot better. Sincere apologies for that, and warm thanks to those who have stuck with me.

Despite the dreadfulness of my 2009, I have learned a few interesting things about myself, and about illness itself, none of which are particularly pleasant, I'm afraid.

First, through all of this, I have managed to keep working, despite suffering from extreme exhaustion and feeling the full effects of a symptom known charmingly as "brain fog". Yes folks, I have had a taste of the future, a kind of Alzheimer's Lite, and I'm here to tell you that it isn't nice. I simply never knew that I cared so much about working, and wonder if this is solely to do with having kids, or to use the proper term, which I truly understand for the first time in my life, "dependents".

I'm not sure I would have dragged my miserable arse to the office and back every day if it were not for them. Is that love? Or duty? I need more time to understand what has been going on here, because I'm still not able to put this stuff into any sort of perspective. Give me a few months and a bit of emotional distance and I might be able to make more sense of it. Oh, and sorry employers. You will get better value from me next year, I promise.

I also learned, that despite the love and support of friends and family, essentially, you have to do illness entirely on your own. When the only answer to the question "How are you?" is "I'm fucking terrible, thanks", then it's really best not to answer. I have never, ever felt so alone. I think I learned that I hate to show vulnerability as well, so again, just best not to answer. Stoicism bacame my watchword as I internalised virtually everything. I don't want to burden you and you don't want to hear. So, no answer was forthcoming.

So, you just keep going. One foot in front of the other. Three more pills, finish the bottle. Next bottle. Three in the morning, three at night. Take with food. If it's Saturday, it must be injection number 2, 8, 23, 37, 41. Keep going. One month, three months, six months, ten months... Not long now.

The countdown. My entire year has been one long countdown. And I'm almost at the end. I take the last of my tablets this Saturday morning. And I cannot wait. I'm really, really bored with not feeling well. It's rubbish, honestly. I want to be able to have the energy to do stuff. Stuff with the kids. To write and play. To feel better. To simply not to have to take anymore drugs.

I also want to say, that I'm well aware that that there are those who are far worse off than I. Those who will never be able to stop taking their drugs. Those for whom there are no drugs. I think I've learned a little bit about that as well; mortality and the fragile nature of our existence. I have met some wonderful people through this blog, at least one of whom has been through great personal tragedy, and I think that he has done what I had to do - keep going. You just keep going, because the alternative is too horrible to contemplate. Just keep going until it ends. Countdown the days. Until it stops.



Looking forward, some long time readers will know that I regularly used to get out to remote places and visit beloved neolithic/iron age/bronze age sites in the UK and France. I have been unable to do any of that this year and I am hungry to get back out there. My kids might tell you they've enjoyed the year off though.

I have also not touched a drop of alcohol since New Year's Day 2009. I'm not planning on going mad, but I'm really looking forward to having a glass (or two) of something delicious and intoxicating over the next few weeks.

To celebrate reaching the end of this longest of years, I've spent the last few weeks setting up a blog in Wordpress, which I have used to temporarily bring my first blog, Spinster's Rock back to life. To stretch the metaphor beyond the bounds of decency, yes, I have symbolically resurrected something. Back to life.

You can visit this site here for some quality post punk and other assorted selections from among my favorites. Some of you will have seen this stuff before, but there may be a few of you who will enjoy having a root around in here and may even find something rare and unexpected to enjoy. It should be noted that some of these files are slightly unpolished, as I was largely learning the way when some of this stuff was first posted, but for the large part I have left things intentionally unchanged for the purposes of getting more stuff on the site. Everything is still 320 and there is usually full artwork.

I've also been enjoying finding my way around Wordpress and might move everything over there permanently at some point in a few months when the brain fog has properly lifted and a few visits to the Marlborough Downs have blown away the cobwebs. I'm also planning on utilising some of that much missed booze to fire my writing glands. Let me know what you think. I'll continue to add some stuff to Spinster's Rock for a few weeks, but the current plan is that come 2010, all of the current posts over there will once again be removed. Meanwhile, I'll be posting a few selections over here from my chosen favourites of the year.

So the countdown is almost at an end. The clouds are lifting.

Thanks to everyone who has played along by trying to guess what the fuck I have been alluding to these last five weeks. I look forward to joining you all back in the real world, people.

Thanks for listening.

Your pal,

Nolan Micron.

Visit Spinster's Rock Here.