Yesterday was one of the worst concerts I have ever performed. To top it off, it was the concert with my idol as well – absolutely fabulous.

Let’s start from the beginning… I was having to travel back from Kings Lynn that morning after a family visit and my first train was cancelled, meaning I was going to miss every one of my connections to York. Stress Tim. Massively. I am not a wealthy student, but thankfully the man on the ticket office was extremely nice and helpful and no major issues arose on the journey back. The stress, however, lingered on the entire journey back; I was too aware of this concert, and I couldn’t afford any more delays (in the real world I could have a three hour delay, but in my head this was by no means good enough). 

I got home only a couple of hours late and then my second issue of the day came to light: I felt awful. Not messed-up-heart awful, not mentally awful, flu awful. Fir anyone who doesn’t know, playing a brass instrument with a sore throat, headache, and every facial orifice bunged up is fairly ridiculous; you can’t support the sound properly, the pitch sounds off, and the pressure from playing makes you feel like your head is going to explode. Cue 5 lemsip in the space of 1.5 hours (I got told off for this later…).

The walk to the venue was interesting,  I was coughing and sneezing like the world was about to end and the only way to stop it was to sneeze and cough for every single person on the planet. The sneezing and coughing was starting to make my heart jump a little by the time we got there, and I was on the verge of calling someone else to come and stand in for me. The only reason I didn’t was because this was a concert with someone I’ve admired for years. I couldn’t give this opportunity up.

At the end of the first half I couldn’t take a full breath; I was on the verge of hyperventilating, my sternum felt like it was broken with every breathe I took, and the muscles between my ribs felt like concrete – not made to stretch. It was becoming a little more noticeable, and I had Mr Cardiac Nurse asking if I was alright. I just brushed it off, it was only one more half… I could manage one more half… I’d make myself manage one more half.

Yeah. That went well.

I managed it all, but by the end my head was spinning from what seemed to be a lack of ability to breathe properly. I couldn’t help put anything away. I just sat in the corridor and tried to stop my head spinning, tried to take a full breath without searing pain. Anyway, my 5 month 17 day record was broken. After a coughing fit my heart went into a very strange rhythm and I hit the deck. Mr Cardiac Nurse was, of course, there making me feel a bit better about myself pretty much straight off (I don’t know if he means to, or of he’s guessed how crap the whole thing is, but he always does that) with a close friend of mine, but I hate myself because… I failed.

I’d gone 5 months and 17 days without actually losing conciousness because of my heart. 

I’d gone 5 months and 17 days without losing conciousness because of my crap,  broken heart. 

Yes the whole evening/day could have gone better, but I have a new record to beat now. 1 day in, not exactly going strong, but I can do it.

This has somehow become a positive post. 

Huh. Would you look at that. I’m smiling.


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