Posts Tagged ‘COPD’

Living With COPD

Posted: April 20, 2016 in COPD, Cycling, Health, Uncategorized
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For a change, this isn’t about cruising 🙂 This is about me wanting to reflect on my health and hopefully push me towards a better, healthier lifestyle.

Ever since I was a child I have suffered from Asthma and over the years I was unfortunate enough to suffer a number of extremely bad asthma attacks requiring hospitalisation. So, why, oh why did this twerp start smoking at the tender age of 14. Inevitably, more attacks ensued but many of these were quickly fixed by not smoking for a while but still I smoked. eventually however, towards the end of the last millennium I stopped.

How did I stop? I saw a news paper article about the Paris to Hayling Cycle Challenge (organised by the Association of Charitable Endeavours) along with a photo of two rather fetching young ladies. That clinched it for me. I’ll stop smoking, buy a bike and train for the challenge and cycle with those two young ladies. I signed up the very next day. Being back on a bike again gave me such freedom, which I find hard to describe. I do know however that whatever sort of day I’d had, I would go out on my bike, think through all the issues of the day, put things right in my mind while all the way setting small instant challenges such as sprint between two markers or climb a particular hill in the highest gear possible. I loved it. I loved my bike, I loved it so much I bought more: See here for the list of bikes I’ve had over the years. I never gain saw those two young ladies, boo.

Eventually, I became a committee member of the Association of Charitable Endeavours (ACE), then secretary and route planner as part of a splinter group (The Reccecrew) and would go out to plan training rides and seek alternate routes in France (see here for an idea of a recce in France). I had such great times. But then, one New Years Eve, I weakened and had a cigar. Then another and so I was back smoking again and did so for another three years and then gave up once more and returned to cycling.

I entered once again the Paris to Hayling Cycle Challenge but this time, I took a group of a dozen riders, we called ourselves Team-SIM and we sailed to Bilbao and cycled from there to Paris to meet up with the main ride. This was to be when everything changed for me.

On my first climb of the first day. my heart rate, according to my Garmin, hit 256. I had to stop. I rested for 10 minutes then started off again. This happened twice more before I gave in and finished that day in the support van. This happened two more time in France. I felt as though there was nothing in any of my joints. Clearly, something was wrong.

Returning home, I inevitably went to see the Doctor who obviously sent me to the Cardio department for a check out. The consultant after running a number of tests and getting me to wear heart monitor for a day told me he could find nothing wrong and that I should go home and ‘Die of Something Else’ (his words, not mine).

My next visit was to the Asthma Clinic for a periodic review (never had one of those before) and after various tests I was told that I had Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD): Personally I prefer my own naming of Codgers Old Puffing Disease (COPD) :-).This was not good news. It was irreversible and degenerative. It would over time get worse. The timescales would depend on my lifestyle. Cycling has to be my lifestyle.

At my last review with the COPD Nurse I was told that my obstructive lung effectiveness was sitting at just 47%.  In my book, that less than one lungs worth of air for each breath. I’m sure the maths isn’t quite that simple: There is for instance the factor of restrictive breathing exacerbated by weight causing pressure on the diaphragm. But whatever, when breathing it feels like one lung so I’m sticking with that.

Now, one of the consequences of COPD is that the heart has to work so much harder to move what little oxygenated blood it can around the body. But because of the limited supply, the heart becomes in itself erratic and causing to to go into Arrhythmia which can and does feel extremely uncomfortable and makes exercise difficult. The consequence of this is that my cycling lifestyle became challenged which meant I put on weight which aggravated the restrictive breathing even more. I’m sure you get the picture.

So, my last review, 47% put me at stage 2 possibly moving to stage 3. My last proper review was three years ago. How do I feel today?  I thought I felt bad, I felt as though I was entering, what I call, the valley of despair. But then I read about somebody with COPD completing the London Marathon.

I’ll tell more in my next COPD update.

Poor Podge

 

Podge & Tubbs Go Ashore; Podge & Tubbs Come Back

Posted: April 9, 2016 in Another Cruise, COPD - Codgers Old Puffing Disease, Cruising, Health, P&O, Uncategorized
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The next day Podge was so very, very poorly. His breathing was really, really difficult: Podge’s cold had been upgraded to man flu and this combined with COPD (upgraded from Asthma) did not make for a good mix: No part of Podge’s body had any energy, his lungs even less.

Podge felt sorry for himself.

At around 06:00 Podge dragged himself from his bed desperate not to disturb The Duchess from her slumber (disturbing her slumber was a bad thing) and made himself a coffee and went out onto the balcony to watch the ship arrive into Marseilles. Podge sat for an hour watching the world go by, watched the ship park, watched the men tie up the strings and set the gangplank, or should that be gangway, to allow the eager passengers to escape ashore or join their excursions.

Podge and Tubbs had no plans for the day.

As there was nothing planned, it was ‘planned’ they they would have a late breakfast / brunch then maybe they’ll take the shuttle bus into the town of Marseilles, it was after all a place they hadn’t yet visited. They had plenty of time as the boat wasn’t leaving until late anyway as it was to be just a short overnight hop to the next port of call, Cannes. This now leisurely morning ,including an extended ‘rest’ before breakfast pleased Podge greatly but even so, Podge never neglected his duties and so, at the allotted time of 09:00, he presented Tubbs with her Earl Grey Tea, awakening her slowly so as not to start her into one of her ‘moods’ – the sort of irrational, comes out of nowhere for no reason type mood that only women can have :-). Luckily as she slowly awakened, a pleasing smile grew from her sleepy face and Podge knew that he had one a good job and succeeded, and so this day would be a good day. With that, Podge returned to the Balcony to enjoy his peace and solitude.

Eventually, The Duchess arose from her [beauty] sleep and joined His Podgeness on the Balcony (it does sound grand doesn’t it). It was all Podge could do to look up and say good morning such was his physical struggle this day. She gazed upon him and inwardly doubted that she was going to see Marseilles today; there was no way Podge could make the journey. For Podge’s part however, he knew that his Tubbs really wanted to go ashore, if only to get the obligatory fridge magnet and of course, Podge wanted to see if he could buy some more inhalers. And so, although the body was weak, the spirit was strong and he declared ‘ok, let have some breakfast, then make our way, slowly into town’. This pleased Tubbs for not only was she going into town after all, but she was absolutely starving and breakfast, by now it was actually an 11:00 brunch, was just what she needed.

The shuttle bus into town took 30 minutes as the bus took its eager passengers into the centre of town, everybody just looked out through the glass like goldfish in a bowl wondering, wondering when the town would be become a nice town for so far, a nice town it really didn’t look. It’s very difficult to work out how to describe Marseilles, no doubt on sunnier days it may look a lot different, and it being a Sunday may not have helped but the town came across as unkempt, rubbish was everywhere, maybe even unloved but that’s only the perception of an outsider, but the one thing that was for sure, Podge & Tubbs did not want to spend any longer in town than they could help. On arriving and disembarking the bus, they looked around, almost in trepidation. Everything seemed so dishevelled, walking had to be with care for fear of stepping on the wrong stuff, most places were shut and everybody seemed to be just standing around bemused. Is this really the drop off point? everybody wondered. Apparently, it was. Looking around once more Podge & Tubbs espied a department store which was very nice, just as many department stores are in the UK are but once outside again it was back in a cityscape of seemingly neglect and lacking in care. They did wonder down to the Old Port but nothing endeared them there, so they found a pharmacy, bought two more inhalers, €10 this time which is probably £4 each so they seemed to be getting dearer and then they went in search of fridge magnets.

Podge was struggling.

Although all they’d done was sit on a bus for half an hour and wondered around for another half an hour, it was enough to tire poor Podge. Poor Podge was struggling by now. He just wanted to get back on the bus and go back to the ship. But he knew this wouldn’t be possible, nor advisable until the fridge magnet had been sourced. As luck would have it however, the journey back the bus involved travelling through a small market (why do markets alway chirp up women, especially Tubbs?) selling exactly the same sort of stuff that every other market sells although obviously, some of the images differ, such as those on fridge magnets.

Before long both Podge and Tubbs were back on board the bus, Podge clutching his two more inhalers but struggling to draw breath, Tubbs clutching her new fridge magnet and both Podge & Tubbs eager to get out of town and back onto the ship.

Back on board

Once back to the safety and comfort of the Oceana, Podge & Tubbs dropped off their vast array of purchases, Podge took some [legal] drugs, for his breathing, then went along to Magnums for what is now known as fivesies or 5 o’clock drinks. The bar steward greeted them with his normal cheery self and announced that he had heard from a previous bar steward who they had met on their last cruise that Mr Podge liked Laphroaig Whiskey and so they had got some in especially for him. This cheered Podge greatly, he even started to feel a little better but nevertheless, with his body still weak and even though his spirit was now stronger, he still couldn’t run a marathon nor half a marathon, he couldn’t run for a bus, in fact he couldn’t run but at all, he was definitely better than the morning – must be the news about the Laphroaig.

At the end of the day, Podge mused and thought to himself, ‘what a weird day, thank god she didn’t wakeup in one of her moods’.

Poor Podge.

Podge & Tubbs Inhales Their First Mediterranean Air

Posted: April 4, 2016 in Another Cruise, COPD - Codgers Old Puffing Disease, Cruising, Health, P&O, Travel, Uncategorized
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Click here for the same but with photos

Having enjoyed the little trip down the English Channel and across the Bay of Biscay plus taking a day out in Lisbon, Podge & Tubbs were now looking forward to the start of their Mediterranean part of cruise with the first stop being Gibraltar.

Podge was looking forward to Gibraltar as he knew he would be able to source a lens for his camera at a good price: Podge was not looking forward to Gibraltar is he knew that Tubbs would having similar thoughts about the jewellery shops. Podge really didn’t know how he felt about Gibraltar! Anyway, it was to be a 10-minute walk from the ship to the square so they opted for a shuttle bus which took 5-minutes but less effort :-).

Once there the exploration started – ‘where are the camera shops’ thought Podge – ‘where are the jewellery shops’ thought Tubbs but then, Podge had a far right thought. He seemed to remember somebody telling him it was possible to buy Ventolin inhalers over the counter and so, at the first pharmacy he saw he went in and asked for 2 and got 2 for £5. This excited Podge unnaturally as he clutched his purchases with pride: ‘Who needs doctors?’ thought Podge and on their they way went. Camera shops came, jewellery shops came, camera shops went, jewellery shops went until at last Podge sees a shop he remembered (well, that’s what he told Tubbs anyway) and in he went. “Can I help you sir” asked the shop keeper. “Yes please” said Podge, “I would like a 70 – 200 telephoto for for my canon camera please”. The shop keeper looked at Podge’s camera and said “No you don’t, what you really want is a 100 – 600 telephoto: that will give the full range in one go”. “No I don’t’ said Podge, ‘I want a 70 – 200 lens”. ‘Hmm’, thinks the shopkeeper, ‘I think a 75 – 300 will be better”. ‘Look behind you on the top shelf” said Podge, ‘see that 70 – 200 lens, that’s what I want. The shop keeper gave in and handed over the lens. Now all that was required was for His Podgeness to pay. So it was out with his best credit card imaginable and popped it into the machine, checked his pin and entered it. [PIN INVALID]. He tried again [PIN INVALID]. ‘I know it’s the right pin” said Podge “look here, 7593” he said to Tubbs (it’s not really 7593 but I wonder if anybody reading this recognised their own pin and immediately thought of changing it 🙂 ). The shop keeper politely warned His Podgeness that a third [PIN INVALID] would block his card. Podge was now in a quandary. Fortunately, Tubbs The Duchess recognised the signs and took out her own card and paid for it herself. Podge does so love Tubbs.

Leaving the camera shop, Podge sees another pharmacy and again became unnaturally excited at the prospect of buying Ventolin Inhalers over the counter and so without further ado in he went and bought 2 more but this time they cost him £7. ‘Hmm’ he thinks, ‘that makes them a whole pound dearer than the last shop’ but still, he clutched his purchases and continued his walk along the high street only now, he was looking for bars: Tubbs however still had one eye open for all the jewellery shops. But Tubbs is a gracious / caring woman and saw that Podge was starting to slow and thought that it would be a good idea to stop before Podge starting using up all his new inhalers and without further ado found a suitable bar and found a table. Podge, who had indeed started to tire suddenly realised where he was, perked up and order 1 large beer for himself and one large Pinot for The Duchess.

They sat, they drank, they talked, they drunk some more, they ordered the same again and they sat and they drank and they talked and they drunk some more. Eventually, truth be known, they became drunk.

This probably explains how Podge suddenly admitted to Tubbs that he now remembered his PIN, allegedly he was looking at the wrong card [honestly]. And with that Tubbs marched Podge to M&S, leading him by his cauliflower ear all the way to the new tops section: Tubbs is always at her happiest when purchasing new tops. She then lead him to the dress section: Tubbs is pretty happy when buying new dresses. She then leads Podge to the underwear section: Podge is now getting naturally excited, but wrongly so it turns out.The underwear was for him and he was made to choose which to buy. Tubbs then led Podge to the [PAY HERE] section and instructed him to settle up. Podge did as he was told. Podge always does as he’s told. Podge isn’t stupid.

Now, with Podge clutching his purchases, and Tubbs clutching her purchases they started to make their way back down the high street but Podge had to stop off at the bar again: Apparently, when one gets to a certain age, fluid retention become challenging.

On the way back to meet the shuttle, The Duchess, for this is how she becomes when nearing a jewellery shop, espied a shop which had a certain attraction to her and she just knew that she would do well in this shop. Podge couldn’t fight back, one because of his own ill gotten gains and two because he had no strength to do so. And so with the same inevitability of death and tax they crossed the threshold into said store. Once in there, Podge saw two rather fetching oriental ladies who were also from the Oceana but who also had a certain level of class and wealth. ‘Sugar’ thought Podge, or something like that, this shop aint going to be cheap. Podge had to sit down: it was all he could do as The Duchess, now in her element and she now browsed the whole shop. Podge’s heart raced, not because of the sight of the rather fetching oriental ladies but because of what The Duchess may do next. Eventually he heard her ask “which do you prefer, these or these?” It was at this point he knew he’d lost. Any answer would cost money but which answer would please The Duchess the most and which answer would cost the least. Faced with a similar challenge in the past, Podge did try to play her at her own game by saying I don’t mind, I like them both, so she bought them both. Podge doesn’t do that any more. So Podge was honest and chose the ones he honestly liked the best and with that The Duchess bought them, with her own card. Podge was ecstatic: this has never happened before.

And so now, Both His Podgeness and The Duchess made their way to the Shuttle for the short 10-minute ride back. They were joined by a party of inmates [seemingly] from ‘Waiting For God’ with half not knowing where they were, the other half worrying about where they they’d been and all worrying about where all were going to sit on the eight seater bus and there was only five of them. Eventually they sorted them selves out, everybody was aboard and off they went to rejoin the Ocean.

Another successful trip aboard.

PS – Podge is now living on edge. How did he get away with not paying up in the jewellers. What lies in store for hime ahead. Podge was indeed a worried man.

The underwear by the way, were twice his size.

Check back for further recants of Podge & Tubbs Go Cruising.

Podge & Tubbs Go Cruising (Again!)

Posted: April 2, 2016 in Cruising, P&O, Travel, Uncategorized
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Click here for the same but with photos

Everybody has a bucket list and Podge & Tubbs are no different. Their bucket list mainly centres around places to visit and nearly all by cruise ships. One such item on the list was to visit Florence and Pisa and they surely would have done so had Tubbs not gone and gotten herself poorly the day before they arrived at the port of Livorno: The suspicion is that this was down to excess lager, wine and Italian ice-cream while in Rome so, much to the dismay of Podge, who had to write off £100+ in lost excursion fees but, because His Podgeness loved Tubbs The Duchess he took it on the chin and stayed in the cabin to look after her. And so, Florence and Pisa had to remain on the list, un-ticked.

Another entry on the list was to do two cruises back to back: they harboured this ‘evil’ desire to stay on the ship and watch all their fellow passengers, with sad faces 😦 , disembark. 🙂

Can you imagine then their faces when thumbing through the P&O cruise brochure, a favoured pastime of theirs, when they saw a cruise sailing from Southampton (on Easter Sunday) to Genoa calling at Livorno immediately followed by another cruise again calling at Livorno (two chances go seeing the sights) and finishing in Venice. “Cripes” exclaimed Podge and Tubbs in unison, “this was made especially for us”. And so, as they were already on a cruise ship, they went to the future cruise sales desk and booked themselves a place and, as they were already on board a P&O boat, they got extra spending money included; Yay.

After many months of waiting, Easter finally arrived when they would board the Oceana and set sail for better weather, lovely ports and of course the opportunity (twice) to visit both Florence and Pisa. Unfortunately, their departure coincided with the arrival of Storm Kate, or is it Katie? Who knows, who cares? The fact was, Kate was on her way and she was in one seriously bad mood.  The forecast was for Kate to arrive on Easter Monday and cut across the south of the UK and away to the east. Well, if that was the case, and if Sunday night was anything to go by, Kate wasn’t so bad after all but, when wasn’t realised was that Kate had a nasty sting in her tale that would follow through the following night. As Monday came and went, yes, the sea was less than smooth, in fact it was downright rough and when the Captain said that the trip along the English Channel would be ‘interesting’ everybody knew they were in for a rough ride and , rough it was. In fact, the restaurants on board were less busy than normal and, the obligatory ‘bag’ holders (for those less able to deal with rough seas) were strategically placed around the ship. This pleased His Podgeness greatly as [to date] he had never felt untoward effects of sea-sickness. and so, Podge & Tubbs, having enjoyed a relaxing 1st day and a feast in The Plaza followed by much wine and Prosecco, etc. retired for the night. And then, the tale of Kate lashed out. The ship went up, the ship went down, the ship went up and leant left, the ship went down and leant right, the ship went up and leant right, the ship went down and leant left. Basically, this ship went every which way but loose.

Loose was the right word, sun chairs and tables were moving about, all banging about on the balconies, the screen between balconies were banging and clattering and generally everything was either moving or banging about. Every now and then, every 7th wave according to His Podgeness, the ship would crash down on an almighty wave make an almighty cracking sound. Tubbs, often referred to as The Duchess awoke on numerous occasions complaining how it was disturbing her sleep (this worried Podge greatly). She even declared the whole thing as ridiculous as if it was somebodies fault (this worried Podge even more as it was surely his fault by default).

And so came the dawn followed by The Captain making his 9 0’clock address to all who would, or could, listen. The was when he announced that the naughty Kate had been through wreaking havoc upon the ship to the point than many cabins had become waterlogged as the seas had come over onto the balconies and seeped through the doors, such was the ferocity of the storm. His Podgeness mused for a moment and thought well, if you’re standing on the balcony on deck 10, as he was at this time, and spray is higher than that then yes, I suppose it was, and still remained, a bit choppity but he was more worried about the fall out from The Duchess’s broken sleep and her inevitable grumpiness. The Captain then gleefully announced that we were about to enter, wait for it, THE BAY OF BISCAY. Notorious for its rough seas. He did however reassure all who were listening (many weren’t as they were still suffering the effects of Kate) that the weather would ease off and the sea would calm down.  And, it surely did.

The day went by and the sea got calmer as we approached ‘La Coruna’ corner and Cape Finistaire (the end of the world as the Romans would call it) and down the west coast of Portugal (thinking about it, Portugal only has a west coast) before entering the River Tagus and onwards to Lisbon, their first port of call: Landfall at last. It was here that Podge and Tubbs had booked their first excursion: They had already seen Sintra; they had already seen Obidos; they had already seen the town centre but, they had not visited The Monument to the Discoveries or the Belàm Tower. and so with an advertised excision to these places, the tour was booked and embarked upon also visiting the Jeronimos Monastery Church.

The coach driver / tour guide took everybody on the coach, including Podge & Tubbs around town eventually dropping them off outside of The Monument to the Discoveries with the guidance that it will be possible to walk to the Belàm Tower in about 10-15 minutes but they had to be back for the coach in 45 minutes after which they would be taken to the Jeronimos Monastery Church. So, as quickly as poor old Podge’s lungs would allow, the rushed around both sites to take the obligatory photos getting back just in time for the coach to depart. For those that live in or know Lisbon, they are probably in a state of wondering ‘Why?’. Well, after a 10-minute drive, the coach arrived outside the Monastery which as many will know, is across the road from the Monument: Everybody agreed, they could have walked there quicker. Still never mind, His Podgeness and Tubbs ‘The Duchess’ made their way into the Monastery, were [genuinely] filled with wonderment, came out and made their way along the road to the nearest custard tart shop after which they sat upon a park bench and gorged themselves. Hunger sated, the next, and final stop was the Black Horse Square, the largest square in Lisbon although the guide insisted it was the largest in Europe.  Lots of pickies later, it was back to the coach for the ride back to the ship which was actually only 500 meters away from the square. But Podge and Tubbs were happy and they retired to the bar for some well earned grape juice, of the Pinot variety.

Coming soon, beers in Gibraltar and Monks in Barcelona.

Wrongful Arrest – Part 3

Posted: August 24, 2014 in general, Rant, Uncategorized, work
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You will no doubt have heard the phrase [annus horribilis]: well I’m afraid my last two weeks could be considered [dies quinquaginta horribilis]. In the first week, I lost my Mother – at 84, an inevitability of life but no less painful – while in the second week I went in to hospital for a Cardioversion (stop and start my heart) to bring it back into normal rhythm. Unfortunately, that failed: obviously the restart worked, but it didn’t go into a normal rhythm. This is my excuse for the lateness of Part 3 of Wrongful Arrest: but it’s here now!

The Identity Parade – Farce

Returning home, I found a note from my wife. Go round to next door as she was round there having drinks and waiting for me. Drinks? That is just the ticket, God knows, I could do with one after the day’s ordeal.

Having stopped off at Newbury Police Station to establish their motive for conducting a dawn raid on my house (see Wrongful Arrest – Part 1), I subsequently spent the rest of that late afternoon / evening in an interview under arrest and helping the police with their enquiries (see Wronful Arrest – Part 2) with respect to an assault on an Asian Family. I was eventually released on bail to return at a later date. Having smoked the best part of 40 Benson & Hedges and my mind spinning with all sorts of thoughts, mainly about ‘what was life like behind bars’, and having been driving for over an hour and half I now needed a drink, possibly a number of drinks.

I knocked on the neighbours door, quick as a flash the door opened and my wife pulled me in and closed the door and took me through to the lounge where a large drink was thrust into my hand. And then it started: the interrogation. What had happened? Why was I so long? What did they ask? Why do you smell so much like an ash tray? Why are your eyes so read? Did they hurt you? and then, Did You Do It? This latter question was to become a recurring question always being returned with the same answer (an emphatic NO) to which I was told that they didn’t think I had but needed to ask anyway. The rest of that evening / night was spent smoking and drinking until eventually, we had all exhausted every possible aspect of the preceding events and, gave into our bodies desire and need for sleep.

Over the weekend, my friends and family rallied round, first of all to establish whether I was guilty or not and then to offer their views on what was going to happen next, and more to the point, what I should do next. The most obvious course of action was seek a solicitor, which I did. So, I made an appointment with our family Solicitor and, having explained the reason for seeing them, they arranged for me to see one of their criminal briefs.

The Hungerford One

You may have heard of The Maguire Seven, The Birmingham Six or the The Guildford Four? Well, by the time I returned to work on the Monday Morning, I had become the Hungerford One. There were signs all over the office declaring support for the Hungerford One, with calls to ‘Free Him’. There was also, of course, the occasional depiction of the hanging of the Hungerford One.

That first day, the Head of Computer Operations and the IT Director took me out to lunch at Rowlands Castle Golf Club (Ve_ry Nice) and offered any help they could, having first established of course that I hadn’t done it. If I needed time off to see a solicitor I was to take it: if I need time off to go to the Police Station again, I was to take it. Other that the offer of understanding and moral support, there was, in all honesty, little else they could offer but they had offered more than enough and for that I was, and remain, grateful.

The Brief

My meeting with the solicitor, from hereon in called ‘The Brief’ went well. Having satisfied himself that I hadn’t done it! we then went on to discuss the next steps. From his understanding, the Police would now be arranging to hold an identity parade which would entail the five witness, one at a time, to checkout a line of similar looking people. The similar looking people would generally be people the Police use on a regular basis and / or people ‘in the street’ that had been asked to take part. If they [the witnesses] failed to ID me then the case would be closed and I could return home, if however one or more did ID me then I would be charged and court proceedings would be the next step. I was also advised that the date would be very soon as they needed to conduct the ID Parade while memories were still fresh. Sure enough, the date was 10 days after my first visit to the station. And so on that allotted day, I drove(!) The Brief and my wife to Newbury.

This is where it gets farcical:

Arriving at the station, The Brief suggested that I stayed in the car while he went in and spoke with the police. No worries I said and promptly lit another Benson & Hedges and sat there and waited. After two smokes, he came back out with news that I, nor he, was expecting. It would appear that they [the police] had been unable to source enough people that looked similar to me to hold an ID Parade and we were therefore faced with two options:

  • Option 1 – A one-on-one ID with each of the witnesses
  • Option 2 – We could go and sit in the Chieveley Services and have a coffee or even a meal and they would send the witnesses round one at a time (this would of course, I was assured, be carried out discreetly).

After much thought and discussion with my wife, we agreed that Option 2 was the preferred. With the decision taken we went into the Station.  We were then taken into a room to be met by the arresting officer, the duty sergeant, the police solicitor and a couple of others who I suspect were there just for the show. They explained the process in that we would be invited to sit anywhere (free choice) in Chieveley Services ‘Restaurant’ and have a coffee, a meal, or whatever we chose to do: we could even sit and just read a paper if we wanted. It was also explained that before the ‘ID Parade’ took place, they would read the details of the event and explain, formally, why I was here and that this was an ID Parade to allow the witness to try to identify the assailant. With that, we all drove in convoy (Police cars and Vans) to Chieveley Services. There was to a subsequent convoy for the witnesses.

Once there, we were escorted in to the Restaurant whereby my Wife and I selected a place to sit: I want to say we elected to have a full fried breakfast at this point (that’s would I would do today) but I suspect we stuck to coffee; a lot of coffee as it turned out. It was at this point that I started to question (inwardly) their [the police] translation of the word discreetly. I was surrounded by at least three police officers plus their brief and of course The Brief, all with overcoats on so that nobody could see their police uniforms, although their keys and paraphernalia hanging down and jangling about gave a clue as to who they were, while they formally read out a prepared script detailing the event, the suspicion that I was one of two assailants and that there were five witnesses, one of which would now be allowed to come into the restaurant to see if they couple pick out the assailant they saw at the scene of the attack. They then [discreetly] vacated the room and left us in peace. We sat: we drank coffee: we smoked (it was allowed in those days); we talked. I have no idea what we talked about though I believe we picked on a subject from the newspaper and discussed it in detail. We never saw anybody who looked like a witness, mostly because for most of the time our heads were down and looking at the paper or talking, but eventually The Brief came in and sat with me, while Witness 1 was taken away and put into a separate mini-bus than the remaining witnesses. We were advised that I had not been identified and that they would now conduct the same process with the second witness.

At this point, I was again surrounded by at least three police officers all still in their overcoats on [so that nobody could see their police uniforms] plus their brief and of course The Brief, and again they formally read out a prepared script detailing the event, the suspicion that I was one of two assailants and that there were five witnesses, the second of which would now be allowed to come into the restaurant to see if they could pick out the assailant they saw at the scene of the attack. Wow I thought, this is so discreet. I was then told that if we wished, we could move to different table. We decided to stay where we were. They then [discreetly] vacated the room and left us in peace. We sat: we drank more coffee: we smoked (the ashtray was filling); we talked. Again, I have no idea what we talked about, we were most likely taking gibberish now. Again, we never saw anybody who looked like a witness, and eventually The Brief came back in and sat with me, while Witness 2 was taken away and put into a separate mini-bus than the remaining witnesses. We were advised that I had not been identified and that they would now conduct the same process with the third witness.

Repeat Paragraph above two more times

The time came for the fifth and final witness. Again, the same process as per previous four witness, the first mini-bus now empty, the second mini-bus now holding four witnesses, with details of the event being read out, us being asked if we wanted to switch tables, us electing to stay where we were but, we did switch our now overflowing ashtray, for a nearby empty one. We were left once more in peace. We sat down to yet more coffee and even more cigarettes. We sat, we smoked, we drank, we smoked, we talked, we smoked (we smoked a lot in those days, which is probably why I now have COPD). After a while we became aware of a commotion at the food counter. Somebody was pointing an causing finger at a guy at the counter: a number of gentlemen in overcoats then surrounded the man being pointed to and was asked to accompany them to a nearby table. I think you’ve guessed by now: the one pointing the finger was witness 5. The one being pointed to was supposed to have been the assailant: the gentlemen in overcoats were the police. I don’t know what discussions took place between the police and the man at the counter but do know that was he allowed to continue purchasing his meal and was left in peace, assuming he still had an appetite. The gentlemen in overcoats then turned their attention to me. They formally advised me that I had not been fingered (my expression) by any of the witnesses and that I would now need to return to the Police Station so that I could be de-arrested (not sure if that was the phrase but sounds cool) and formally released.

Relief

As we sat in my nice shiny Ford Granada Scorpio and lit up yet another cigarette, we looked back on what had just happened and breathed a sigh of relief. Life behind bars was not for me. It was at this point that The Brief told me: Had I gone for Option 1 and I’d been selected as one of the assailants, my defence would have been strong on the basis that I was the only option given to the witnesses. Having gone for option 2 however, my defence would have been weak and the prosecution, very strong. “Now he tells me” I think to myself. Anyway, it’s all over now, lets go to the pub. OK says The Brief. “I’ll switch the ‘meter’ off in that case”. This obviously meant that not only had I driven The Brief the sixty miles to Newbury, and subsequently back, but I had paid for the time he was sitting there. On top of that , given what he told me about the two options possible ramifications, after the event had taken place, I wasn’t too sure of what value be brought to the event. But, I was free, all had been resolved and I no longer had the fear of ‘life behind bars’ hanging over me so I wasn’t about to question it.

As we sat in the bar enjoying a pint of the local brew and smoking more cigarettes,  we obviously discussed the recent events. The Brief told me that one of the witnesses had to be pulled out as he was going round and round, determined to find somebody, even going into the ladies and gentlemen’s conveniences: it was going into the ladies convenience that caused them to ‘pull him out’. The man at the counter? well he could easily account for his whereabouts at the time of the incident so he was let go. The Brief then told me that the arresting office confided in him by telling him that his thoughts were either I didn’t do it, or I was the best teller of lies in the land.

So, brew’s consumed we once more settled into my nice shiny Ford Granada Scorpio and set course for home, a Free Man.

2-months later, my blue and white jumper returned.

Later on in this same year, I was gassed (see Gas Attack post) in an accident at work: that year was truly [my annus horribilis]!!!

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