the best advice ever.

So some of you know I just came out of another stay in hospital a few days ago. This was my 4th trip into hospital since I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's disease. Each time was for a similar offence. Because the chemotherapy kills all the bad cells in your body, it also wipes put all the good cells too. So you guessed it, it makes me much more susceptible to infections that the body can usually fight.

Last weeks events were truly awful. I really don't know how I got through it. I'm glad that you guys didn't have to see the state I was in. My poor parents were so amazing and level headed throughout the whole episode it was untrue. What started with a mouth ulcer turned into a mouth infection. Then a throat infection. And then high temperature. And then aches all over. And then constipation and not going to the toilet for two weeks. All gory stuff. All at the same time. And it was only this time last week. And I'm doing o.k now.

I was very scared as this was the hardest and worst time I have had during treatment and "things going wrong."

When I felt like giving up last week my father, who seems to think he knows what to say and do in every situation, came out with this gem while I had tears in my eyes, rolling around in pain.

"Are you going to give up like a baby or be a man?"

What do you say to that apart from fight even harder?!

last summer

Now I always knew I had amazing friends and I know so do you because if they weren't amazing they wouldn't be your, well friends would they? But since I got diagnosed with this unfair illness, it has made me think a lot of about friendship and what is really is. Something wonderful happened this past weekend which made me realise how lucky I am and made me think about everyone who knows me and how I would be if fucked if I had to fight this battle alone.

I felt inspired to write about how I feel (something I have learned to do only over the last few months unfortunately) after reading my good friend Ruth's blog on friendship and feel honoured that I am one of the people she speaks of. Like Ruth, we are writers who observe the world around us, never take things in our life for granted and not ashamed to say it.

Every time I see someone I care about I always say thank you quite a fair deal if they do something for me because people in the world don't “have to do what they do.” People don't say thank you enough in the world. If somebody says something to you or does something for you they don't have to. Hope I'm not coming across as obtuse right now. But if you get it, you get it.

I've had a lot of time to think over the last few months. Maybe a bit too much time sometimes. About everything. I've doubted myself. Doubted my family and my friends. I never wanted to think like this but I had been overrun and my body violated. Having cancer cripples and stifles you. It takes over your rational thought pattern and makes you feel like you are being punished for something you may or may not have done.

Having these dreadful things happen to me, makes me acknowledge even more the people who care about me and the people I care about. What has happened has not only been a test for me but a test for those around me unfortunately. All my incredible friends and people who know me, just knew how to raise their game in my situation. There's no guide book for surviving pain and suffering even though I wish there was.

This past Saturday something happened to me which is exactly what I believe friendship to be about. It wasn't just about my friends coming to my aide but about teamwork, love and care.

On the 4th of September 2001 I went to watch a band at Birmingham Irish Centre from a recommendation from a friend who saw them play at Reading Festival that year. I had only heard a couple of songs but was urged by this friend to go watch them. And I can safely say that night really changed my life as what happened from then until now and the future, well I can't even begin to imagine what my life would be like as clichéd as it sounds. I know certain people who read this will empathise with me 100percent.

So I signed up to the message board thinking nothing of it and was just hoping to chat to some like minded people about the band and read about other shows. It's now 2009 and those people I used to talk to back then have become some of the best friends I have and I know that sentiment it's shared by everybody in our group.

We have been everywhere in those years. We have grown up together. We have seen the world together by watching this band. We have gone from just the occasional meet up at a couple of gigs a few times a year into wanting to talk all the time. Forging these special relationships and friendships in these years we never thought was possible.

On Saturday I had the best surprise I could never imagine in my wildest dreams. And I was truly speechless and shocked in the nicest possible way. My friend Scott and his missus Lauren who I was meeting for the first time (in these circumstances with me being ill as shit. What does that tell you about her?) arranged to come visit me and make the journey up from the South East. I had been so excited about their arrival for weeks because the only times I have been leaving the house since May was to attend appointments and chemotherapy at the hospital and you don't need me to tell you that's no fun.

I had a whole fun day planned out as I love to show people around my place of birth and shatter any preconceptions anybody has about my city of Birmingham.
On the walk into town Scott said “Do you mind if we just pop into this pub? There's a friend in there I want to say hello to and have a quick drink with if that's o.k?”.
And I'm like “Yeah. That's fine. Is it anybody I know?”
And he's like “I don't think so,” as nonchalantly as you could possibly be.

Before I even set both my feet into the pub I was greeted with a chorus of happiness and love and warmth that deafened the whole room, that I hadn't felt in a long time. This came from friends who travelled the length and breadth of the country to grant me this special surprise.
Tears were shed for me as it was the first time I was able to see everybody in a long time due to all the suffering I have had to endure over the last year. But also as a relief that we were all back together once again. I really did not know what to say or do and I hope I didn't come across as ungrateful because I truly was. I was just so shocked!

They all came to see even when there were times I asked them not to because I have been really concious of the way I appear. And the look of me being really poorly and hairless. And seeing me like this would make them feel upset. But they didn't care. They just wanted to see me and for us to all have a wonderful day together like we always do. This is what friends do. They do extraordinary things and go out their way for the sake of others.

Their timing could not have been better. The last month has been especially tough and physically painful for me. I honestly came inches to giving this whole things up and letting things be. But this was wrong. How could I give up on myself? How could give up on my family? How could I give up on them?

Seeing them made me a tiny bit sad as it made me realised how much I have missed everybody during my illness and what I have missed out on. But it reminded me what awesome times we all have ahead with each other. We all still have youth on our sides even if we are guaranteed to be the oldest people at shows we attend with each other.

I feel so invigorated right now by seeing all their smiling faces, hearing all about what everybody has been up to, exchanging humorous stories and making plans for when I am better and paving the way for even more incredible times ahead. I'm have the energy and strength to finish the final straight.

Hannah described the day in a way only she can. “This is all a testament to how much we love and care about you.”

What can I say to that? No matter how many times I say thank you to everybody who has helped me during this really difficult time in my life, it never seems enough.

I just hope I am able to do something equally amazing for all my friends someday.

Because this is what friendship is about...

Currently listening to Jemina Pearl Break It Up

real life

By now I think most of you know the 27th May 2009 was a bad day for me for two very different reasons. My team Manchester United got humiliated by Barcelona in the Champions League final and I was diagnosed with a form of cancer called hodgekins disease.

Even though this event happened a couple of months ago I still find it extremely difficult talking about about what I'm going through. I have to force myself into writing this and speaking to friends and family about all this for my own sanity when things are hard going. When I hear the words come out of my own mouth I know it's no joke and it gets me really down. But I have to. And have to tell you about all this.

The day the doctors first told me I was in a state of shock for many days and weeks. I couldn't comprehend that this had happened to me. I still can't. I thought maybe if I didn't talk about it, it somehow would not be real and I would wake up any second from a really terrible nightmare. This tactic helps most of the time but them sometimes my anger and frustrations explode in a fatal swoop on the unsuspecting person who is around me at the time. I don't mean to do these things. They kinda just happen. Much like this fucking illness.

I attend chemotherapy every other week and it's now become the day when I have no choice to think about what is going on inside of me. The more you attend hospital, it never gets easier. Don't believe what anybody else says. It's a three hour session which takes place with one of the wonderful nurses who work in the haematology department. They administer four different types of medicine directly into my veins. It's called ABVD treatment, One of them makes you want to hurl immediately and one of the others makes your pee the colour of Tizer. A bit of useless information for you.

Illnesses bring out some of the worst in people. That's why they are so bad. Some of the thoughts and feelings I have experienced this year; I never thought my brain was capable of them. Some of the shit I have said when things have gone wrong has been incredible in the sense that I have never spoken such negative words before. When things go wrong you start to question everything. It's like somebody or something doesn't want you to get better. But I guess this is part of the challenge. It overcome these challenges. I'm quite an upbeat person who can look on the bright side of things most of the time. It just shows how something like this can infect and pollute your normal thought pattern.

I'm finding writing this blog really difficult. I don't know how to express what I want to say. I have days why I am alright about things and you'll think nothing is bothering me. And I look to the future. And I am optimistic. And sometimes I have days when I am in so much pain I can't take it any more. And I mean really can't take it.

I have learned a lot about myself during this time and when things take turns for the worse in life, that is what we have to do. When all this is over I'll be able to fully reflect on this period of my life. Some have you have said how my ordeal as inspired and educated you, which is awesome.

I just want next year to start now and being fit a healthy for the first time in my life. I have so much I want to do and things to catch up on.

I have my halfway point CT scan this Thursday which will show what sort of progress I am making and how much more treatment I need to have so it's a pretty big deal. Fingers crossed it's all good news.

I'll be alright. I always am in the end.

"It's more bad than good.."

(I have added links to some of the terms you may not be familiar with in blue)

What I have been going though over the last few days has been very weird/strange/odd/uncomfortable. It's really been a test of strength of character for myself, my family and those close to me. When I do get a chance to think about things, of what I'm about to tell you, all seems very unreal in it's very literal sense.

On Wednesday 13th I went to the City Hospital for a routine blood test. Well when I say routine, it was a follow up test to the one I had at the start of the year which showed my hb level to be a below average and I was suffering from "mild anaemia" So I was prescribed some iron tablets and to have a blood test done after a couple of months to see how it was progressing.

Now after this I didn't think nothing of it. Sure I felt tired all the time and I thought I was going to collapse a few times at work, but I had gotten so used to feeling like this I thought it was "normal" although I knew in the back of my mind it wasn't "normal." It was almost like I was in denial about these issues and that I had something wrong with me but then again who wants to scream at the top of their voice "I'm sick!"?

Anyway I was in the midst of watching United play Wigan and ironically I had fallen asleep when I got a knock on the door. It was from an on call doctor from Selly Oak hospital. She basically said she had seen my blood test results from earlier in the day and my hb level had dropped to 5.2. This probably means nothing to you but when you take into consideration a male at my age should be at least 13 you can see why she was worried. She said that she had arranged for me to be seen at Selly Oak hospital immediately to have a blood transfusion and that I need to go there right now. The time was about 21:15 and I was thinking "What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of joke?" So before you could say "Luis Antonio Valencia" I was in a hospital bed.

I was carted into the admission ward surrounded by people who seemed to have been in hospital for a while. The people in the ward were at least 50 years of age and then there was me. Luckily both my parents had accompanied me who were there to make sure I wouldn't go completely insane. Once I arrived I was examined by a doctor for a good 2 hours checking out every inch of my body. I had a caliper inserted into my left hand which was rather unpleasant. It allows fluids to go and and our my blood stream. It was left in till the time came to leave hospital. And I had about a million samples of blood taken from me in these few hours.

I didn't sleep at all that night which is what can be expected. Everything seemed very odd. Being at home one minute and then being in this place the next.

I was moved to a much quieter ward the next day for further tests and investigations. This was a much smaller ward with males only with people in it that were bed ridden and hooked up to machines. It was made clear to me that a blood transfusion would only be given after all preliminary tests were done as going into it would "mask" the underlying issues I am having. I proceeded to have a chest x-ray and a ultrasound on my stomach that day. The same sort of ultrasound pregnant women have.

The results were given to me on Friday and the verdict wasn't good. They found that my spleen was not of a normal size and was enlarged with mysterious "dark spots". Also that my lungs had an unusual amount of enlarged lymph nodes all over them.

When I was told I shit myself. When you get bad news like this you want to know what it is and how it can be solved. And I pestered the doctors for that information but they didn't tell me much and I can see why as they didn't want to give me a wrong diagnosis or get me worried about something without all the tests and scans being completed.

My dad summed it up the best with another one of his famous analogies, "A mechanic doesn't just look at a broken car and know what is wrong with it does he?" I love my dad.

It would be decided that later on in the day I was to have the first of four units of blood transfused into me. I'm guessing not many of you have had one of these things done before so allow me to describe what it is like. A tube is inserted into the top of your left hand and it has to be kept still in order for the blood to flow into your vein at an appropriate rate. Then this is connected to a drip which allows a bag of blood containing around 350ml of blood. My drip looked like this...


This is the point is started to dawn on me on what was happening. Sitting there, staring at four walls, not being able to move and watching each drip/drop of blood. It was like watching paint dry. But while you are sat there, in amongst feeling sorry for yourself, you start to think about stupid things. Like I was thinking "what have I done to deserve this" or "have I done something wrong?" Very silly I know. But it's very hard to stay positive 24/7 which is the type of person I try to be.

When Saturday arrived I was awoken at the crack of dawn by a doctor and informed very apologetically that I was to have another three units of blood back to back. So again the process started. But I was very lucky that my parents, Lee and Ian spent the whole day with me and allowed me to distract my mind by just talking about Football was great to pass the time.

On the following Monday I had a CT scan in the Morning which I was nil by mouth. It sucked a lot but not being able to eat was the least of my worries at this time. I arrived in the room and was placed on a conveyor belt type of thing which was in the middle of a massive circle which is able to take photos of the inside of human body in 360degrees. The nurse informed that she was going to insert some dye into my blood stream and that "you are going to think that you are going to wet yourself." Trust me. She wasn't lying.

The next day I was discharged from hospital but I didn't feel a great sense of relief like I should. Sure it was nice to be home, and have the comforts but as you can see I wasn't given any treatment apart from the blood transfusions. I left and felt like I didn't know what the hell was going on in my own body which is a very scary thought. Not being in control of my own bodily functions.

My mood fluctuated during my time in hospital one from pure negativity and feeling like it was the beginning of the end. To one of optimism where I would think this whole episode is a minor setback and when the doctors sort me out I will be a new and improved Manoj whose body won't let him down anymore. Hopefully.

Two days later I had to visit QE Hospital for an Endoscopic Ultrasound which I was extremely nervous about as I had never been under general anaesthetic before. Once I arrived my fears were put to rest somewhat as the doctors and nurses were very professional and like they had done these procedures a million times. I was taken into a room and met by a very friendly and knowledgeable doctor who was undertaking the endoscopy today. I really thought I'd be able to remember part of what happened but the last thing I remember was being lay out on a bed then a while later being in another room with my mother shaking me and shouting "MANOJ!"

Afterwards I managed to speak to the doctor in my still somewhat dazed state and asked him if there was anything he could tell me about my scan. When he spoke to me I got a sense that he had a lot of information that he was withholding in case he made an incorrect diagnosis. What he said was they "took a lot of pictures and found a lot of things. The main thing being that your windpipe has enlarged to 4.5cm when it should only be 1.5cm."

It seemed to me that the more tests they did, they found more things wrong with me. It was difficult to be upbeat in situations like this but I HAD to keep telling myself that the more information they find, the better chance they have for making the correct verdict and to give me the right course of action.

Being at home and being off work since last Thursday has given me time to reflect upon what is going on and I just feel like "why me?" I just want to be able to go back to a normal healthy life, like right now. I actually want to go to work and you won't often hear me say that.

When you find yourself in an unexpected hour of need, you kinda realise who are the people that actually love you and really care about you. And it's almost like a test in some ways to see if the love and the "doanythingforyou" mentality that you display to others on a daily basis is replicated when you need it most. I've learnt some things.

I have been having a lot of chest pain and difficulty breathing which scares me l and whenever you try to not think about my ordeal, I get a sharp pain to remind me.

On Wednesday I go to see the haematologists who will try and make sense of this mess I am in and provide me with a course of treatment which will help get me back on track. Wish me luck eh?

So as it stands I have problems with my spleen, problems with my lungs, problems with my windpipe and problems with my blood. Twenty five years old and falling to pieces. It's no fun being me right now...












Currently listening to Do You Know Who You Are? by Texas Is The Reason

Manoj VS The Monster

So this is what the Polices' business card look like if you ever have the pleasure/displeasure of encountering them on your travels. Or as they called it "a receipt" for you to keep and treasure forever to show that the police decided to humiliate you, an innocent person on a certain time, on a certain day and at a certain location. The official term is a "stop and search" but you know what I mean. The reason why I am sharing this with all of you is so you can learn from my experience and be better prepared, which is what I wish I was.

The incident occurred this past Wednesday at 815am and if you know New Street station, I was coming down the escalators like I do everyday. I was wearing my work uniform and carrying a large Adidas holdall as I was going to Leeds straight after work to see This is Hell (slightly ironic don't you think after what happened?) As I got to the bottom two Police officers pounced on me, one with a sniffer dog and the other with a PDA. Then the following conversation took place.

Copper: We need to have a look in your bag under section 44 of the 2000 terrorism act.

Me: Ermmm. Well I need to be at work in like five minutes. I don't really have time.

C: It will only take a minute. We are conducting random stop and searches today and you are exactly the kind of person we are looking for as you are carrying a rather large holdall.

M: O.k then.

Then the copper made the sniffer dog have a good whiff of my bag. Afterwards, the other copper asked me to open up my bag and to go through it and show them exactly what was inside. And remember, this was at 815am in the morning, during a busy period of the day. As I was doing this I looked up a few times to see hordes of the general public staring at me.

At this time I was thinking about how embarrassed and humiliated I felt, as I knew some of these people were my customers too. I felt like a fucking terror suspect for goodness sake. Was this right that I was going through these emotions?

The whole process lasted about 15 minutes then at the end of my ordeal one copper asked me if I "wanted a receipt of being stopped" As this time I was still shocked at what was happening to me. so I duely obliged.

When i first got stopped my instinct was to not cooperate, as you can see from my initial answer. But then another thought entered my mind very sharply. The Police shooting an Innocent man on the tube in front of members of the public in London.

I was thinking "If I walked away or ran away from them now, would they chase me, throw me to the floor and take me some where to interrogate me?" This is what I was thinking. I was thinking if the Police can get away things in the past, then what else can they get away with? Should I just co operate? With only having a split second to react I took this stance.

After reading what people have said on my page, maybe I should have stuck to my fucking guns and not sold out my values and principles. I might have been a martyr for the innocent people in the world. But I really did know what was for the best. I am not scared of the Police but I am scared of what they do to people like you and me.

Did I look like was going to blow myself up? Did I look suspicious? Because the Police didn't find anything on me, could I be done for wasting Police time?

I really don't know...

Section 44 Stop and Search





Currently listening to Get Jealous by Tegan and Sara

Hello people...

Hello. I'm Manoj Koeri aged 25 and a half.

Welcome to my blog.

I kinda decided that I had to start writing again while I was in India recently. I really had to snap out of this writers blog type thing I have been going though since I left university. A lot of things happened there and I started to doubt my skills as a writer.

A lot like my hero Hank Moody from Californication. He started to a blog to snap out of this phase he was going through.


If you don't know too much about him, read up. He's awesome. Maybe I'll get a contract with Hell-A magazine one day...

So this thing is new for me. I'm going to see how this goes. I have a lot of this going on in this brain of mine but sometimes I feel like people aren't around to hear it. I'll also reminisce about old times.

Life is about sharing experiences with each other and we should all talk to each other more. We all have to coexist with each other and everyone has a story to tell. We can never stop learning from each other. And that is partly what this is about.

I hope you all get to understand me a lot better. And you understand yourselves better. And the people around you better.

I'm going to write about all sorts of things. You'll see. I'm also going to write reviews of Cd's/bands/shows that are worthy of your attention. Music is important to me. If you didn't know that then look away now.