Dancing with Axl

Guns and Roses.

I was never really a big fan during their heyday in the late 80’s—I was more into New Wave music and electronica. However, as I grew older and made my way into college I developed a deeper understanding and liking to all forms of music, rock in particular, and enjoyed a song or two from this great rock band.

I was able to secure tickets to their concert in Abu Dhabi. I was dying to go; actually, if you put it in a literal sense of the phrase; the recent loss of voice had began to lead into other complications and I was already feeling a deep doubt that what I had was cancer and that I was dying. So saying I was dying to go was kind of like saying it was something I wanted to do before I did go—enjoy a rock concert.

It was mid-December, the last weekend before Christmas and it had already been more than eight months since I lost my voice. I had, by then, lost a considerable amount of weight and it was beginning to show. Despite observations made at that time by some friends and close relatives, I kept to my reason that I was running in the morning and in the early evening. I guess I was only folloing myself.

The truth is, I was already feeling tell tale signs that I was getting weak. I just didn’t want to scare off the missus and the rest of then family—money, which wasn’t really tight, was still needed in settling obligations and other things and I felt that if I was going to be hospitalized it would mean a lrge dip in the savings.

But I really felt like I was dying. My legs were wobbly; my appetite was shot and I guess the only thing that kept me going was the general rah-rah feeling that I couldn’t just die yet.

My wife couldn’t tell how I was feeling, nor could other people around me. I couldn’t just open this up to anyone and I was forced to bottle up this emotion to myself.

I think I’ve strayed a little too far from the Guns and Roses angle—well let’s get back to that.

On the day of their concert, I had three signs come to me that I was due for a rude awakening. Although I didn’t see it coming at first, when it did set in, I got really alarmed.

The first sign was—my wife didn’t want to go. I should have seen that coming. Bel will come with me and try to understand the music, movies, books and other forms of entertainment that I like—but she was begging off this one. Although convinced to go, this was the first time that she actually begged off coming with me to an event.

The second sign came in earlier during the day, while I was still at the office, I had gone out and rang the doorbell planning to run and hide after wards—what happened was when I turned to run, my feet didn’t get the message and I stumbled off to the ground. This showed me that hey, my feet were really getting weak and wobbly.


The third sign came in the form of a last minute assignment from my boss. I was supposed to leave early from work so I could make the two-hour bus ride to Abu Dhabi but my boss but my boss gave me a last minute job that made me leave later than scheduled.

All of these signs came to me but I virtually ignored them. Although joining me at the last minute, the missus noticed that I was almost running on empty that night—I was feverish, cold and weak but I was determined to see the show.

What happened?

The minute we got off at the Abu Dhabi Bus Terminal, I was nauseated and shivering like I was in the North Pole. Despite my continued rationale that I was ok, my wife put her foot down and said we needed to head back home or rush off to a nearby hospital. We decided on going home and seeing the doctor the next day. I had really wanted to go on and see the concert, I had told Bel that this was my last chance to see the group, that I felt like I was already dying and I was slowly ebbing away. I was in tears that evening and so was she—it had dawned on us both what was going on, I was sick and I needed help immediately.

What happened next was a key turning point in my life.

(To be continued)