When I checked in with British Airways in Denver for my flight home on Friday I was surprised when the lady at check-in told me they had some lost property for me. I left three boxes of Harrods tea bags in the overhead locker on my outbound flight and hadn't given them a second thought, assuming they would be lost forever. So thanks to BA I enjoyed a cup of Harrod's Blend No. 14 English Breakfast this morning.
In my earlier blog post about getting FastTrack treatment at Heathrow with British Airways, I joked that it would be nice to get moved further forward towards the pointy end of the plane. And that's exactly what happened. At the gate my boarding card went "beep" when scanned, was torn up and the already good seat I was assigned (14A) was upgraded to the supremely comfortable seat 3D.
I have no frequent flyer status with BA, having recently lost my Silver card, so I like to think that today's upgrade was awarded because I was nice to the staff. BA may just have gained a new customer from Virgin Atlantic.
This morning I woke up dreading today's flight from London Heathrow to Denver. It's not that I am afraid of flying, far from it - I am a qualified pilot, it's just that I really didn't relish the prospect of flying with British Airways. At the moment I am in Starbucks in Terminal 4, having already dropped my bags and gone through security, yet I only stepped off the rental car shuttle bus 20 minutes ago. There was just one person in front of me in the line to check-in so my wait was just 30 seconds. The lady at the counter was very nice so I was nice back to her. Clearly that counts for something as she gave me a FastTrack security sticker allowing me to bypass the normal security queues and use a more exclusive line. She told me that too few people are nice to her these days. What a sad state of affairs.
So let me apologise to British Airways. I had set expectations of the service that I was going to receive today, yet your efficient check-in system and wonderful staff mean that I'm enjoying my coffee much earlier than expected and with none of the usual pain and anguish associated with Heathrow. If anyone from BA reads this before my flight departs at 15:45, I'm in seat 14A and wouldn't say no to being moved further forward in the aircraft! (Well if you don't ask, you don't get!)
I just discovered Wordle. It generates a cloud based on the words contained within a body of text or a web page. I think it is one of the coolest web 2.0 applications I have seen so far.
This is the Wordle for my recent blog entry "A belly full of bile", in which I described my gall bladder operation and subsequent complications.
During my time in hospital I missed the launch of the best films that I have seen this year. Big Buck Bunny, already mentioned by a number of my fellow Sun bloggers, is a short computer animated film rendered using Sun's network.com and released in its entirety as open content under the Creative Commons Attribution License. As a technical exercise to test out the Blender software it is interesting. As a movie it is funny, moving and thoroughly watchable. I encourage you to download it or watch it online.
Despite my jibes yesterday about the timing of the software release for download day, I must say that the wait was worth it. Firefox 3.0 is superb on my Mac. Good luck with the record attempt, which runs until 17:00 GMT today, it is well deserved.
Just as the World Series of baseball only involves the USA and Canada, it seems the same is true of the Firefox 3.0 Download Day world record attempt that is to be held today, Tuesday June 17th. My sources tell me the software will be released at 10:00am Pacific summer time - at which point it will be 6:00pm here in the UK and for anyone east of Dhaka it will already be Wednesday. So the 57,871 people from Japan who pledged to download Firefox 3.0 on the 17th will be disappointed, as will the 28,255 in Australia, the 6,600 in the Philippines and many others across the globe.
I really like Firefox, having been a user since it was launched, but I am disapponted that once again the USA forgets there are other people and countries beyond West Quoddy Head.
Until recently I never appreciated the phrase "a belly full of bile", which I had always assumed meant a person was angry. The truth as I now know it is that a belly full of bile will make you sick. Really, really sick.
On the evening of April 16th I was sat on a conference call. Half way through I had to apologise to my colleagues then drop off the call because of pain across the top of my abdomen. The next day I saw my family doctor who wasn't able to identify anything specific but told me to go home, rest and come back if things got worse. By the second day I was really bad, the pain changed from a broad-based pain to a very narrowly focused, sharp pain located on the right side of my abdomen just under my rib cage. I was also hot and had very little strength. I went back to see my family doctor and although it is only 300 metres from home my wife had to take me in the car. When my doctor took my temperature, blood pressure and heart rate she told me to lie down on the bed in her surgery, she then put me on oxygen and dialled for an emergency ambulance. At this point I was quite scared. My wife was called in from the waiting room and seeing the shock on her face didn't help me at all. We live in a small village about 8 miles from the nearest ambulance station so it took a while for the paramedics to arrive. Eventually two smiling paramedics bounced into the doctor's room and I was relieved to see that one of them was a friend of mine, a fellow volunteer with the Freewheelers blood bike service. This put me at ease, in fact the 11 mile drive to hospital in the ambulance was a great laugh. I thank them both for putting me at ease during a stressful episode.
In the hospital's accident and emergency department I didn't have long to wait before I was given a thorough examination by a junior doctor who quickly identified that my gall bladder was inflamed, something that was confirmed by ultrasound scan and a consultation with one of the gastro-intestinal surgeons. Interestingly the scan didn't show any gallstones, exactly the same result as a scan I had back in January when similar pains pointed towards possible gall bladder problems. From the start this made me an unusual case as most people's gall bladder problems are caused by gall stones. I should have taken this as bad omen number 1.
As I was admitted on a Friday and NHS hospitals in the UK only do emergency surgery at the weekend, I was told I would have my gall bladder removed on Monday. The trouble with this situation is it builds up a queue of patients for surgery on Monday and as it happened I got "bounced" off Monday's surgery list by a patient with a ruptured appendix - something that apparently trumps a gall bladder! On Tuesday I got my operation, a laparoscopic cholecystectomy - keyhole gall bladder removal to you and me. When the surgeon came to see me she told me it had been a very complicated and messy operation as my gall bladder was stuck onto my liver and other organs as well as the internal walls of my abdomen. I should have taken this as bad omen number 2. After the operation the medical staff continued to monitor me and grumbled frequently about my odd liver functions revealed by the daily blood tests. Bad omen number 3 maybe...
After a week in hospital I was sent home, complete with antibiotics and dire warnings that I should come straight back if I began to feel unwell. I was also told that I should have a blood test after two weeks to check my liver function was improving. As it turned out, I didn't need the blood test because exactly one week later I started to get really ill. Bizarrely I had the same strong pain in the same place accompanied by the high temperature, fast pulse and low blood pressure that cause my family doctor to send me into hospital the first time. Being a man an idiot I tried to be macho about the pain and so didn't do anything about it for 24 hours. However, the next day I couldn't stand it any longer so back I went into the hospital
For the next 17 days in that hospital I went through hell. I had a terrible infection which gave me fevers of almost 40°c and as a consequence I had IV antibiotics pumped into me 3 times a day for 16 days. It turns out that a set of freak circumstances meant that the 500 ml (1 pint) of bile produced each day by my liver wasn't travelling through my bile duct into my intestines, but instead was venting straight into my abdominal cavity. The symptoms that put me back in hospital were due to that bile, which is corrosive and thus very painful, getting infected. The complicated and lengthy nature of my first operation meant that the surgeons were unable to check my bile duct for blockages. Although I didn't have any gall stones big enough to be seen on an ultrasound scan I did have some very tiny ones. Some of these had gone into my bile duct and blocked it. My surgeon told me it is not uncommon for people to have congenital deformities in their bile ducts - extra branches known as accessory bile ducts. In my case, such a deformity had produced an easy escape route - a path of least resistance - for the bile to vent into my abdomen rather than push past the gall stones and out into my intestine. As a result I had to undergo two more surgical procedures. The first was a hugely painful procedure, without anesthetic, using an ultrasound scanner to help guide the surgeon to insert a drain into my abdominal cavity to drain off all the bile. The second, called an ERCP (Endoscopic Retrograde Cholangiopancreatography), involved sending a scope down my throat, through my stomach and duodenum to reach my bile duct. The surgeons injected die under pressure into my bile duct which was then x-rayed to reveal the full extent of my problems. They were then able to clear out the blockage and weaken the muscle which keeps the bile duct closed to create an easy path for the bile to drain - meaning it shouldn't go out of the abnormal extra exit which my bile duct had. This was also done without anesthetic, although I was given some morphine as a pain killer and pethidine (meperidine) as a sedative so that I wouldn't remember much about the procedure. In the end all I remember was them saying "good work, let's get the scope out" and then feeling the scope snaking through my stomach, up my throat and then out of my mouth. Yeuch.
After 24 nights in hospital (with no Internet connection!), following an operation that detains most people for just 3 nights, I finally got to go home. I still felt ill, had huge amounts of pain due to nerve damage caused by the drain tube, and was weak as a kitten, but I was home! After 10 days I am improving but still weak and still in pain. The good news is that I lost 34 lbs (15 kg) weight, something that was frankly overdue. My new, no gall bladder, low fat diet-for-life now means I stand a good chance of not putting that weight back on and maybe even lose a bit more. So now I have the joy of seeing my motorcycle leathers fit exactly as they were meant to, but the disappointment of not being able to get on my bike because I just don't have the strength or even the will to do it. I don't blame the medical staff at the hospital for anything. They didn't do anything wrong. My freaky sticky gall bladder meant they weren't able to check my bile duct during the first operation. My freaky mini gall stones meant that I was the one-in-a-thousand that gets a blocked bile duct after it isn't checked. And my freaky bile duct deformity meant it was easy for 500 ml of corrosive bile to vent into my abdomen every day. And all of this from a stomach pain that came on in a matter of seconds during a conference call over a month earlier!
This morning I went out for a 25 mile ride with a police motorcyclist. It is one of the most interesting rides I have done in the six years since I passed my bike test.
As a private pilot I would regularly fly with an instructor, even though I had a licence, so that I could be shown ways to improve or be taught new things. Three years ago I did a similar thing on a bike, which resulted in me passing my Institute of Advanced Motorists (IAM) motorcycle test. But that was three years ago and since then, despite reading books, watching videos and striving to improve my riding, I haven't had an objective and honest assessment of my riding.
Bikesafe is a scheme, run across the UK, funded by speeding fines, which aims to improve motorcycling standards. Our local police forces have been running a huge Bikesafe event this weekend at a local motor museum, and I attended with colleagues from the Freewheelers EVS blood bike charity. Our aim was to show a face and try to encourage some of the bikers attending the event to take their advanced test and join us as blood bike riders. However, I also had a selfish reason because I wanted to get my riding assessed.
Enter Phil, a police motorcyclist from the Devon & Cornwall force. His first question when he saw the blood bike that I was going to be riding was "Why did I need him?". He seemed pleased when I explained about wanting an objective assessment of my riding and some suggestions on how I could improve. As we set out I was nervous and fluffed the first couple of junctions - silly little mistakes which I was quick to point out when we stopped half way round for his initial assessment. He complimented me on my riding, but then proceeded to tear me apart (in the nicest possible way) by telling me about several minor mistakes that I had made, but hadn't spotted. He also made some suggestions on ways I could improve my riding - traits in my riding style that I had never known I was doing wrong, or to be honest had never even thought about before. The second half of the ride was certainly not perfect but it felt fantastic because I was able to put into practice the new things that he had pointed out. A final debrief and a written assessment at the end confirmed that I am a good safe rider, but one who can do a couple of things to raise my standard of riding.
I started out today thinking I was a really good rider. I finished the day knowing that I'm not as good as I thought but with a plan to help me get even better. Today showed me that while striving for self improvement is a good thing, it never hurts to get an assessment of how your are doing and some coaching from someone who is at the top of their game.
In November 2003 I became an advanced motorcyclist. I passed my Institute of Advanced Motorists (IAM) riding test and in the process learned some skills that may one day save my life. On Monday at the annual general meeting of our local IAM group in Bristol, I was lucky enough to meet Dave Shenton, the IAM's national motorcycle manager. I gave Dave a hard time because recent IAM news releases had focused on topics other than road safety. I asked him why they didn't put out news releases on how not to get killed on corners. Today I was delighted to see that Dave had listened. Here is their latest release, it is great advice for any biker (or car driver for that matter):
A TURN FOR THE WORST
Have you ever found yourself braking in a bend simply because it was sharper than you originally thought?
If you have, then have a think about how you actually go about assessing the severity of bends. If you get it wrong, the consequences are potentially very serious, particularly on rural roads, which still dominate crash statistics.
And it is not just young, inexperienced drivers who get "caught out" by bends. It is here that, in the jargon, most "single vehicle accidents" take place.
There are a number of clues we can take from the environment to help us. The most obvious are the road signs and markings. There are other less obvious ones: the line of the trees, hedges, buildings, street lights or telegraph poles (although remember that sometimes telegraph poles run through fields, so don't follow them!).
The actual width of the road can be a factor: the narrower it is, the less space you have to manoeuvre. Skid marks on the road are an indication of past mistakes. The position and speed of other traffic can also provide you with valuable information.
Another particularly useful way of assessing a bend is to use the "limit point analysis". The limit point is the furthest point which you can see, i.e. where the left and right hand sides of the road meet. To use this technique first make sure that you can stop before you get to it, then simply ask yourself: is it getting further away? If it is and you can see further ahead, then your speed should be fine. On the other hand if it is getting closer, then you could continue to reduce speed until the limit point begins to move with you and your view opens up again.
This technique takes a bit of practice but it will help you to link your speed with your range of vision and allow you to stop in the distance seen to be clear. And in roads where you can't see through the bends it gives you a reliable and practical solution to a difficult judgement problem.
ENDS
From Monday to Sunday I made 12 deliveries and rode for 655 miles (1054 km), which involved spending 17 hours and 50 minutes in the saddle. I don't regret a minute of it, despite getting cold and wet, being frightened silly by a set of dodgy brakes and getting a flat tyre. Twelve deliveries is a light week and given the bad weather I'm quite glad. Sitting at home last night listening to the worst storm to hit the South West of England in the past year I was happy not to be out on the road any more.
My last day, but no hope of a quiet one. Around 10:00am I got a call to pick up some blood samples from Minehead, which is a lovely town on the West Somerset coast. As I left home the sun was shining and the forecast was for heavy showers. Like a fool I though I wouldn't wear my waterproof over trousers but would instead put them on as and when they were needed. Within 400 yards of home the heavens opened and I got drenched. Two miles later and I'm back into blue skies and sunshine. It carried on like this for the next ten miles until, in the middle of the heaviest hail storm I've seen for a long time, I finally relented and put a pristine pair of dry over trousers on top of very soggy leathers trousers. I also began to regret my decision to wear leather gloves instead of Goretex. By the time I reached the coast the weather front had passed through and I was treated to the most glorious view all the way across the Bristol Channel to South Wales. It made up for being wet and very cold.
Close to Minehead an idiot out on a Sunday afternoon drive in her car pulled straight out in front of me forcing me to make a very hard emergency stop. I did it, but not before scaring myself rigid at the lack of brakes on the bike. They were fine for slowing down at junctions but when used hard they seemed ineffective. On arrival at Minehead I told the co-ordinator that I was taking the bike off the road once I got home to Cheddar. A careful but thankfully uneventful journey followed, from Minehead to Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton and then home. I waited at home until 5:00pm, when I was able to ride over to Weston-super-Mare and pick up our spare bike - one that had much better brakes and as a bonus heated grips that actually work. One last job - picking up blood samples from the NHS treatment centre at Shepton Mallet bound for Musgrove Park then that's me finished. From Taunton I rode to the next rota rider's house, dropped off the bike and got a lift home to a warm house, dinner and a cold glass (or three) of Viognier/Chardonnay.
Total time on the road 5h10m. Distance covered 187 miles.
Saturday is generally a busy day on the Freewheelers blood bike. This one wasn't as busy as some, but it kept me on my toes. My first job, picking up samples from a mental health unit in Taunton for delivery to Musgrove Park Hospital, didn't come in until mid morning and the bad weather—strong winds and heavy rain—meant I didn't leave home straight away. I picked up from the mental health unit at 12:35pm and saw an SMS on my mobile requesting I contact the co-ordinator urgently. I was asked to skip the Taunton delivery and go straight to the medical assessment unit at Bridgwater hospital where there was an urgent blood sample to go to the labs at Musgrove.
Taunton to Bridgwater is only 12 miles, but battling through Saturday afternoon shopping traffic can be a nightmare. It took me 25 minutes to do the journey and I got held up several times in long queues at traffic lights. On arrival at Bridgwater I was told that the job was now an emergency so I called the co-ordinator to tell him I was going to do the journey on blue lights and sirens. It's at this point the adrenalin and faint feeling of dread kicks in. The former helps you to react to the hazards that you will encounter during the forthcoming journey, the latter acts as a balance to keep you safe and stop you doing anything stupid. Immediately outside the hospital I hit a red traffic light so sirens on, wait for vehicles to react and then through. 200 yards another red light and then a 2 mile straight road through the residential areas of Bridgwater to the motorway. From there it is a 7 mile blast down the busy M5 motorway, and then 12 sets of traffic lights to get to the hospital. I can't remember exactly, but about half of these were red so I had to proceed with extreme caution. UK law is exactly the same as the USA – if an emergency services vehicle has an accident going through a set of red lights, then the driver is 100% liable. The end result was I made Musgrove Park safely and in just 15 minutes. "Coming down" after an emergency run is difficult. The adrenaline stays in your system for a while so getting back on the bike immediately after isn't a good idea. I took a 30 minute break, had a drink from the hospital restaurant and then spent a few minutes outside in the brief spell of sunshine that had appeared between the rain showers.
Later in the evening I got a call to take some blood samples from West Mendip Hospital in Glastonbury to Musgrove Park. By this point the weather was terrible so I decided to go by car instead of bike. This was quite an eye-opener as it reminded me just why I ride a bike - the traffic was awful and the whole journey took me far longer than it would have if I had been on the bike.
Total time on the road 3h50m. Distance covered 149 miles.
Yet another night with runs to Glastonbury, Taunton and Wellington. I'm getting to know those roads very well. The first job was to take drugs from Burnham-on-Sea hospital to a nursing home in Wellington. The second was to take patient notes from Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton to the West Mendip hospital in Glastonbury.
Total time on the road 2h10m. Distance covered 82 miles.
Tonight I had just one call to pickup some CD-ROMs from Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton to go to the Bristol Royal Infirmary (BRI). One of my Freewheelers colleagues was due to pick up from Weston-super-Mare and deliver other items to the BRI, so I stopped off at Weston General Hospital and handed the CDs to him. The result, a very easy night and a chance to scrub in the new rear tyre that I had fitted earlier in the day.
Five calls in four days, including one day off due to a flat tyre, makes a very light week so far. I'm sure that means I am in for a busy weekend!
Total time on the road 2 hours. Distance covered 68 miles.
I am a Sun employee, husband, father, but most of all I am a biker. Motorcycles allow me to escape and get some "me time" - an essential part of a good work life balance.
