Not another poo problem?

All of a sudden the years have crept up on Caroline and me, without noticing we have reached our 50^th year. This therefore goes for an awful lot of our friends and one of the results of this has been many 50^th birthday parties.

Caroline had a message from her Cousin Sharon’s son Chris inviting us to a surprise party for Sharon in Dagenham just after we got back from India. Caroline and Sharon are not only cousins but they were friends at school as well even before they knew they were cousins. Many years had passed since school days when they had lost touch, but with the power of Facebook they had managed to get back in touch with each other.

Given their closeness we of course agreed to come along to the party and be part of the surprise. On the day in question our partners in crime Nessie and Sean didn’t have much on either and so we roped them into the journey up to London for the night.

It is around 140 miles from Poole to Dagenham 2 and a half hours or so by car. We decided to leave early evening as we had to be there by a certain time to be in the surprise. As usual Caroline delayed me getting to pick up Nessie and Sean so in the end we did not leave as early as planned. Off we set on the motorway in good spirits.

Prior to leaving I had looked up the address of the venue and it appeared to be parallel with the main road Caroline always mentions Dagenham Heathway. I asked her if she knew where it was and she said “yeah be OK I will find it” I took the twat Nav anyway as you never know.

The journey up to Dagenham was fairly uneventful apart from the horrendous level of traffic which slowed us down considerably. I was driving and the only way I remember of going into Dagenham was via the A127. This was due to Caroline’s family living in Billericay and so going to Dagenham always came from that direction. I did ask if she wanted me to go another way I believe the A12 and A13 take you there, but Caroline wasn’t keen.

One of the 4 of us (not saying who) needed the loo by the time we got to the A127 so desperately that they made me pull over on the hard shoulder whilst they used the bushes facilities. The funny this is they thought they couldn’t be seen but in fact they were lit up by the road lights as they were right underneath it. There is photographic evidence (which I do not have but I am assured does exist).

As time got on it was clear we were not going to make the 8pm deadline so Caroline had the great idea of going to her favorite chip shop (the Golden fish) and having something to eat so as to not walk in at the same time as Sharon. It was very nice I have to say I had savaloy chips and a wally and thoroughly enjoyed it.

It was at this point where Caroline decided that she did not have a clue where we needed to go and had complete memory loss as to our conversation about it being near the main road she knows. So I reverted to the trusty Sat Nav. Once the address was put in we set straight off, I should have known this was not going to go well as the instruction seemed to always be to “Turn right”. But with full faith in technology we pushed on regardless. It started to feel a lot like a very bad magical mystery tour gone wrong. We drove and drove and drove with a mixture of Sat Nav and Caroline knowledge of where to go.  By the time we could see the Millennium dome (02 arena) we kind of figured we had gone wrong somewhere.

To be fair in the car all you could hear was a Sat Nav saying turn right and hysterical laughter every time it said it. We were at the point where the worse it got the more we accepted it.

I did manage to get us back on to the A13 and by listening solely to the Sat Nav managed to set a route to take us back to Dagenham. The little checkered flag was on the screen clear as day and when the words “you have reached your destination “rang out I was overjoyed. Only problem was it seemed we were in the middle of nowhere!

I drove along this small lane and into a car park, Caroline said “this is where my Nan and grandad are buried, this is a cemetery”. Strange place for a 50^th I thought but Sharon and her husband Andy are a little strange they are West Ham fans after all!!

We headed back up the lane and pulled over to phone Chris (Sharon’s son) to get some directions. He was hard to get hold of as there was loud music going on and so on. By this time Sean and I were in need of a pee and so as there was a little bit of waste land there we decided to make ourselves a little more comfortable shall we say. It was at this point that I had a twinge in my belly, you know that feeling that starts in your gut and ends up as a sharp pain up ya bum!

I looked around fairly desperately for a suitable hideaway but nothing was jumping out at me. As if it was a sign Chris rang Caroline back and to make things even more magical we were 2 mins away. We had basically drove straight past the turning. Didn’t see the bloody great signage!

So Chris said you can’t miss us there is a massive car park and you will hear the music. Famous last words, we entered the building and went straight into the hall with the music. Only trouble was wrong bloody hall! This was an Elvis tribute night, as we walked in everyone turned and looked even the Elvis. You couldn’t make this stuff up, and it could only happen to us. We made a sharp exit as we were directed to another hall just along a corridor.

We finally made it to the correct place, I knew it was the correct place as when we walked in we came face to face with Sharon who greeted us with “FUCK OFF”!!! charming I thought we had only just arrived after all J. We arrived just before the free bar ended which was a positive as Andy and money spending does not normally go hand in hand. Once we were in and settled my stress levels started to drop and my belly and bum started to twitch. Now I thought was a good time to go and do the poo that I had been building with all the stress and agro of the journey.

It was fortunate that as I entered the men’s toilets the place was empty. It was only small with only a couple of urinals and two stalls. I rushed down into the furthest one whipping down my jeans and boxers. I cannot tell you what a relief it was.  As the noise levels started to drop I started to hear people coming in to use the facilities. It was the normal lubricated men talking about football and girls and how pissed they felt. At this point I was just finishing so my mind started to lean towards the paper dispenser. I looked at it and it appeared that there was nothing in it? Odd I thought, so I put my hand up inside trying to move the roll around to allow the end to fall down.

I kept fiddling about and fiddling about but in the end I realised actually I’m kidding myself there is no paper in the holder. Oh My God there is no paper in the dispenser! Its here and now that the panic starts to set in. What am I going to do? I looked around desperately trying to locate the spare roll they always leave in toilets, nothing! So my quick thinking turns to what clothing can I do without? And where can I hide them?

It’s a sealed toilet unit no hiding place to be found, looks like the boxers or socks are not an option. Quick Lee check your phone call Sean he can get you something. Unlike my previous poo related story it is now common place to take a phone in the loo, so I got mine out but this is not actually my phone it is a phone but it has no sim card. I only use this as a camera and as an internet toy. So no phone signal and worse still no WiFi. What the hell kinda place doesn’t have WiFi? The stress levels started to rise again, at least I was in the right place.

I made a decision, as soon as the toilets became empty I would have to make a run for the next stall, it was the only option open to me. That is of course apart from the obvious of asking one of the guys in the loo to chuck me the roll from the next stall? But who would do that? Men don’t ask for help, we know not to. We are all well aware that to do that is giving up your rights as a man. You will get the piss ripped out of you for the rest of the night at best. At worst the guys out side will gather all their mates and wait inside the loo in total silence giving to illusion that it is empty, waiting for you to come out with your pants down so they can video you and take pictures to spread on the internet, pushing you over so you get your own shit all over you!

I don’t know maybe that just what I would do and other men would be kind and helpful? You decide.

So I continued to sit in silence waiting for my chance. As I sat there with the toilet seat creating a nice red ring on my jacksie I thought to myself what a load of old shit these men are talking. It really is a load of nonsense they were pissed I wasn’t. It was like a testosterone fueled one upmanship competition of talking bollocks. I sat and I sat and I sat until finally the coast sounded clear. It was now or never, I pulled my jeans up as high as I dare keeping my knees bent to avoid them falling down. The tee shirt I had on was new I got it in India, bright yellow Benetton. There was no way I wanted to get a skidder down the back of this, and so I made sure this was hitched up the back by bending forward slightly.

I opened the door very slowly and peered around the corner, it was clear so walking like a crab (to the side) with knees bent and leaning forward I made my run for it. The stall next door was really small and due to my body contortion I decided it was better to back into the loo. All that was of concern now was there any paper? Hooray there was thank the lord. On the downside however there was no lock, WTF! That was the least of my worries, I had made it this far and nothing was going to stop me now.

So foot up against the door I got done what needed to be done. I even managed to get out of the stalls all together ensuring that the culprit for the wiff would remain a mystery.

I do not know what it is about toilets but I always seem to have a tale to tell about my time in them! 

Never mind Happy Birthday Sharon Love ya!!

When illness strikes

When illness strikes

In 2007 my eldest son was coming up to 17 years of age. To celebrate he wanted to go to our place in Cyprus on a lads weekend.

This lad’s weekend consisted of his 14 year old brother his dad and both of his grandads so we were hardly going to rip it up to be fair.

We had a great few days away having a good drink and a bit of better weather but it is not this that sticks in my mind about this time in my family’s life.

Unknown to me at the time we were out and about Caroline (my wife) was at home struggling with some terrible stomach problems and sickness.

For many years Caroline had suffered with what was diagnosed as irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irritable_bowel_syndrome So when I returned from Cyprus and saw how ill she actually was I wasn’t totally surprised when the GP put this current bout of illness down to IBS.

Caroline was prescribed some IBS medication (which she thought made her bowel movements smell like mints, I didn’t). This initially, did seem to give her some improvement.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks however things started to go downhill.

Caroline was constantly on the toilet and vomiting all the time, unable to eat and basically sleeping the days away. We made several visits to our doctors seeing a different doctor each time. Each one had a different opinion on what sort of medication was required.

Eventually we ended up with a female doctor as part of the well woman clinic.

This doctor was thorough and she asked us to come back in the evening for an ultra sound scan.

The surgery has its own equipment which is unusual (from my experience) and she felt that this could give us a better diagnosis.

That afternoon dragged especially for Caroline who was drinking water constantly. But as directed we were back for 7pm desperate for answers.

The ultra sound scan was completed and we then had to wait again (this would not be the last time) for the doctor to review the results. Finally after a 30 minute wait we were called in to the doctor’s office. Caroline had a bowl to be sick into as the problem did not relent for any situation.

Caroline is a very strong person, very knowing and very intuitive. In the past she had worked in Poole hospital as a stand in (bank) nurse and so she had a fair bit of knowledge around what doctors say and what it actually means. Doctors tend to talk to you in code and are always guarded with their diagnosis until they are absolutely sure.

I basically just sat there as Caroline talked to the doctor.

“The ultra sound has shown up a problem on your right side. This can only be described as a mass. I am going to refer you to both the Gynaecologist department and also the bowel department as we are not sure where the problem starts” Was the doctors opening comments.

Caroline without flinching asked “is it cancer”?

“Well we will need to perform some blood tests as well as some other tests to see where we go from here but it can be other things not just cancer. We are not sure if the problem is your ovary or your bowel” She replied

“So if it is my Ovary and it is cancer what is the prognosis?” Caroline was straight back at her

“If it is ovary then there is lots that can be done surgery intervention is a good option”

“And if it is the Bowel what then” Caroline asked

“Well let’s just wait and see” was the response.

To Caroline this was code for if you have ovarian cancer then you have a chance if it is bowel cancer it’s all but over. As I say Caroline had been around doctors from her time at the hospital and she knew how they spoke in code and what it meant.

The blood test was straight forward enough we did this straight away. However the next step was for Caroline to have a CT scan and for this we would have to wait a week.

For the whole of that week we sat in a daze drifting between tears talking and planning all the “what ifs”. In Caroline’s mind she was going through all the options, as far as she was concerned this could be her last Christmas, she had even bought and had given out the kids advent calanders. Caroline remained very brave though putting on her tough outer image. Our son Callum asked her one day “You are not going to die are you mum” “I will do my very best not to” she replied but deep down I knew this was eating her up inside.

We have no family locally and so we really just had each other to rely on. If I am honest I was not a lot of help I tried to say the right things but you can’t really.

Finally the day of the             CT scan arrived and we were there nice and early we wanted this to hurry up there was no time to waste.

I obviously had to sit outside and wait so I did not have a clue what was happening, how long it should take and if we would get any idea what the prognosis was. I just sat there like the spare part waiting and waiting. This would not be the only time I felt like this.

Eventually after what seemed like a lifetime Caroline came out.

As I recall we were made aware at this time that thankfully Cancer was not the prognosis. It appeared that there was a mass on the right side of Caroline’s stomach which was likely to be a cyst on the ovary. However there also appeared to be problems with the bowel around the cyst.

I cannot explain the relief we felt having even the word cancer taken out of the equation.

Although the seriousness of cancer was no longer there Caroline still had the symptoms of her illness to contend with. The stomach pains the sickness the inability to eat properly all continued.

The first step was to have surgery to remove the cyst from the ovary. We were made aware that depending on the scale of the problem Caroline may have to have the actual ovary removed as well. The aim was to perform keyhole surgery but again this could become full surgery depending on what was found.

 The day of the surgery arrived and we attended Poole hospital as a day case patient as the aim was to perform keyhole and therefore Caroline would be able to come out the same evening.

We were very lucky in that Caroline was one of the first on the list and so went down to theatre in the morning. I was allowed to wait with her until she had to go and also went down to the door of the theatre with her.

She was understandably worried this was the first operation she had undergone since losing Liam about 15 years earlier after having her appendix removed.

I kissed her at the door and skulked off home to sit and wait for news.

The surgery went well and she came out of theatre that afternoon. However her reaction to the anaesthetic was not as easy as they had hoped and she drifted in and out for the rest of the day. I went to see her at visiting time but she was not coherent at all. I was told everything went as expected and so all I could do was wait until morning.

When the morning finally came I was there first thing. But as I walked in what do I see? Caroline up washed and making the bed!

At this point a nurse came over to find out what she thought she was up to. The nurse explained that they had tried keyhole surgery but that had not been possible. Caroline had a full operation and as such should be in bed.

Once we saw the consultant he explained that in actual fact they had removed a cyst the size of a melon, it was so badly attached that they had also removed the ovary and fallopian tube as well. The operation had been further complicated due to the fact that the bowel had become twisted and stuck all to the cyst and ovary area.

Caroline would now need to be referred to the bowel team.

The next 12 months consisted of tests tests and more tests. Caroline’s health fluctuated bad days to not so bad days. Caroline’s symptoms persisted and were never far away. Due to the eating problems Caroline’s weight plummeted. She went from a size 12 down to a size 6. There were instances of passing out, low blood pressure and constant fatigue.

By April we were due to go on holiday to Cyprus, we have an apartment there and our plan was to decorate it and make it more of a second home. We had rented it out but had now decided that we didn’t really want that. So we were going to start again.

Within the first couple of days Caroline was taken poorly. She was being sick and by this I mean every couple of minutes literally. She could not stop. I lay next to her in bed and she was sick every few minutes for a full 8 hours. I got so bad that in the end she was so dehydrated that she started to see things. Giant cockroaches!

There was no other option she had to go to hospital.

At this time in Cyprus they were not in the EU and so the health care there was all private. To be fair the care is very good, but being in hospital in a foreign country is never great.

Caroline was given an anti-sickness injection but this did not stop the sickness. In the end Caroline spent 5 days in that hospital. They put her to sleep and put a camera down her throat to see the problem (for which they gave us a DVD of the procedure) they also took x-rays (which again they gave to us to keep). Ultimately however they could not diagnose the problem or correct it.

Whilst Caroline was in hospital, I split my time between decorating the apartment and hospital visits, whilst trying to entertain 3 teenagers and stop them worrying. Caroline managed to make a friend with a Dutch woman who was admitted with a suspected heart attack. She had been caught up in the Boxing Day Tsunami and I made Caroline laugh by nicknaming her lucky!

The kick in the teeth came after the hospital stay when the holiday insurance informed us that we were not covered!

We were told that as she was under investigation we should have declared it. I did argue that as we don’t know what the problem is how am I able to declare it. But there was no moving them. I also asked if we had declared it would we have then been covered. The answer was no! So either way we would not win.

Luckily I had an emergency credit card and so this was hit with a £2000 hospital stay. Ouch!

We were also back in Cyprus in August to try to give Caroline a break from all of the tests and stress that she had to deal with. Ironically we ended up going through the same problem again with another 5 day stay in the same hospital possibly in the same bed! The benefit this time though was that I got a discount for being a repeat customer! Another £1900 on the emergency card. It was just lucky we went for two weeks and not just the one!

I think the final test that Caroline had to undergo involved putting a tube up her nose that went down her throat which she had to swallow to force through her system. They then flushed liquid through it that showed up and a scan of some sort. This was to show the route her food was taking.

It was eventually discovered that Caroline had a hole in her bowel and so the food was falling through and sitting in her body and going rotten. It was this that was causing the sickness. This had been caused by Crohn’s disease.

 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crohn's_disease

To deal with the Crohns disease Caroline required major Bowel surgery. So once again we were at Poole Hospital bright and early. The operation itself was a bit of an unknown, this was because they were unsure how much damage the Crohns had done and how far it spread. Basically they would have to find where the damage was unravelling it and cut it out as far away from the damage as possible. This would give a safe distance from good bowel so that it was not spread.

So until they find a safe part to cut it would be impossible to know what the situation would be for Caroline when she came around.

There was a possibility that Caroline could have lost all of her bowel and therefore have to live the rest of her life with a colostomy bag!

The consultant was really nice, he actually remembered Caroline form her years working at the hospital, he was very caring and explained everything to her to ensure she was not freaking out.

This problem had been going on for over a year and by this point all Caroline wanted was an end to it.

So once again I walked her down to theatre and kissed her good luck, waving her off.

I felt totally alone as I walked back to the car park, scared for her and what she was going through, but I was also scared for myself in case I lost her.

I got home and sat on the sofa not know what to do with myself. I sat there for a couple of hours just gazing at the telly. I don’t know what I was watching it was just a blur.

I was told I could phone up in a couple of hours for news and so as it got to that time I was straight on the phone to the ward. There was no news though, they would ring me they said as soon as anything came through to them.

I sat there and sat there waiting and waiting but no call came. In the end I just felt I needed to be at the hospital for when she came out. I couldn’t sit there any longer.

The hospital is only 10 minutes from my house so I was there in no time. I just sat in the corridor. People passed by time after time but I just sat there just worrying.

At the opposite end to the ward at the end of the corridor was a small room. I didn’t know what it was before, but as the door opened I could just make out the figure of the consultant looking after Caroline.

I am not very good with protocol I have always been a bit shy of people with authority and so it took me a while to pluck up the courage to knock on the door. But in the end my worry got the better of me and that’s just what I did.

I need not have worried. The consultant came out and I explained who I was. He kindly sat next to me in the corridor. Thankfully the surgery was a success. They had managed to remove the damaged part of the bowel with no problem. They had to remove 6 feet worth. We later discovered that it was in fact the whole right side of the bowel that had to be taken.

I asked not really wanting to hear the answer, would Caroline have to have a bag. Thankfully not. I was so relieved as I knew this was one of Caroline’s worst fears.

I got to see her but only briefly although the surgery had gone well the recover from the anaesthetic had not been as good. Caroline was still totally out of it. This had been the delay they could not bring her out of recovery because she reacted badly to the anaesthetic. Caroline was unable to open her eyes for more than a second at a time. So once again I would have to wait until the next day.

As I arrived at the ward the next day the difference between this surgery and the last could not have been starker. Caroline was laid up in bed with tubes and needles sticking out of her everywhere. Caroline had a morphine drip for the pain and an epidural in her back. She had a drip up and also a drain for fluid as well as a catheter. She looked terrible, she felt terrible as well.

I sat in the hospital with Caroline for the whole day; I have to say the nurses had no time at all. We did not see anyone except for when they came around to do the temperature and so on every couple of hours.

The next day Caroline was till in a bad way but was desperate to clean herself up. She was covered in blood she hadn’t been able to brush her teeth of have a wash.

She asked the nurse but all she did was bring a bowl of water and then left her to it.

There was no way she was able to do any of this and so it was left to me to try and help her.

Caroline stayed in hospital for a week or so but there were a couple of lighter moments. To have the drain removed from her stomach (which was really uncomfortable) Caroline needed to break wind. Conscious of her pain and her desire to have this drain removed when the inevitable did finally happen I ran excited to the nurses’ station to declare her fart had arrived! Caroline found this totally amusing.

Another lighter moment for me although not for Caroline was her trying to eat a Banana! (to raise her potassium level) Caroline loathes them she says they taste furry. Every time she put it to her mouth she gagged. In the end she opted for an injection instead it was that bad!

Although Caroline was allowed out of hospital she still could not do anything for herself and she had to have the nurse around to change her dressing. The cut on her stomach reached from her belly button all the way down to her pelvic bone. It was a huge scar. Inevitably Caroline got an infection and we spent a few more evenings in the hospital having antibiotics.

Following on from this operation Caroline had to have a hernia repair (caused through the excessive vomiting). Within that year Caroline ended up being admitted to hospital seven times with three major surgeries. She now has to take medication for the rest of her life to keep the Crohns at bay. The other side effect of the bowel surgery is that she no longer absorbs B12 which helps with memory and tiredness. So every 10 weeks she has to have a quite horrible injection for this.

On top of the obvious physical issues Caroline had to deal with there are other less obvious emotional issues as well and also financial.

Caroline was not paid for the time off she had to have and I also had to take unpaid leave to care for her. All this adds more strain on top of an already stressful situation in your life.

So when a major illness strikes even if it is not deemed as life threatening its impact on the individual or indeed the whole family cannot be underestimated.

Please sign this petition to have this disease recognised as a disability.

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/122024

My Highway to Hell Florida style

My Highway to Hell Florida style

 

My in laws had never been well travelled people, in fact I think their first holiday abroad may have been to Malta with my family in 2000. However they always had a dream of going to Florida to Disney world. So for their 60^th birthday the family chipped in and sent them (I suggested one way but that idea never took off).They absolutely loved it, and on their return they were determined that all of us went out with them the next time.

Personally I had never seen the attraction of the states. The only yanks I had seen were some navy twats in Magaluf being abusive to a waitress in a back street restaurant.

Caroline was not that bothered either but in the end we relented and agreed to go and see what all the fuss was about. The in laws arranged a house to stay in that had 4 bedrooms 2 bathrooms and its own pool didn’t sound that bad. It was not right next to the Disney parks just a short drive away. Clearly this meant that someone would be driving!

After the long flight and post 911 rigmarole getting through passport control we were finally able to go to the rent a car desk. This was down stairs in the airport, we had booked a car so should just be a case of picking it up.

So when I get there tiered and fed up I am greeted by the smarmy “have a nice day brigade”, I was not impressed! Then they hit me with the fact that the car we had booked was not big enough to take the whole family plus out luggage! Fuck sake!!!

Another couple of hundred dollars later and a shed load of additional paperwork the guy behind the desk points to a car park across the road and sends me to see the attendant with a slip of paper. So off I went across a road that felt like a duel carriageway to the little hut to see the Hispanic fella with all the keys.

In a complete contrast to the guy on the counter selling me a bigger vehicle, this guy was not interested in the slightest. I handed over my paperwork and he gestured towards the parked up vehicles in what appeared to me to be a multi story car park. “just take any of the vans over there”. So off I went tiered, fed up and now confused.

Mistake number 1 was obvious, went to the wrong side of the car. Yep said it was obvious. Anyway this thing was massive it was a 10 seat minibus but not like ours in the UK this thing was huge. I felt as if I was climbing into an articulated lorry. Up I climbs and turns on the engine. This has steering column gears albeit automatic. But try as I may I could not get the gear stick to move. I pulled it I pushed it, I tried to push the stick inwards, then pulled it outwards. All to no avail. I started looking for buttons but nothing, then just by chance I must have pushed the brake and low and behold the gear stick was released. What an absolute mong I felt.

So off I head to the exit still rather flustered and embarrassed but at least I was finally on the move. I pulled up at the exit barrier and handed over some papers to the young lady sitting in the kiosk. She asked for the mileage which as I recall was about 100 miles or so, then she lifted the barrier and with a cheery “have a nice day I was off”.

If you have ever been to Heathrow you will know that when you come out of the airport car park you simply go around in a loop and you are back at arrivals. Orlando however is slightly different, which I found out very quickly.

As I left the car park I found myself pulling onto a huge motorway (by English standards anyway). Never having driven on the wrong side of the road before I was rather nervous. This was not helped by the fact that I had no idea where I needed to go, I was driving some huge vehicle and to top it all there was cars overtaking me on both sides and sounding their horns for the sake of it!

I felt totally bemused as I travelled around this motorway with no idea of how to get back to the airport, finally out of desperation I pulled into a car park. I stopped for a few minutes to compose myself and then headed for the exit. Trouble was this was a pay as you exit car park and I had no money on me at all this was back at the airport with the family.

This was also the days where nobody carried a mobile phone away with them on holiday and so I was totally on my own in this situation. Fortunately as I approached the exit there was a woman in a box collecting the money. I explained to her my situation and she kindly directed me and let me leave for free. All I needed to do was look out for a specific sign but you have to be careful because unlike the UK they do not count down to the exit and they creep up on you very quickly. I found this out the hard way during the holiday.

Finally I seemed to find my way back to the airport but not the arrivals! I managed to find my way only to departures. By this time I could not care less. I pulled the van up in a no stopping area, jumped out locked it and ran into the airport. I didn’t bother with the lift I just bombed it down the stairs.

The family were all sitting there with terrified looks on their faces. I had been gone a long time and they had no idea what had happed to me. Caroline was having visions of me being shot by a bunch of gang banger drug dealers (we had watched a lot of American TV shows). So there was a significant amount of relief on their faces as I approached. Personally I didn’t notice I just shouted at them that I was upstairs with a van and they needed to get their arses up there as I was bothered about getting towed. With that I was like Billy Wizz gone!

The family soon followed and we had this huge van loaded up and off we set. My father in law was chief navigator, he had instructions from the person renting the house out to us. We were staying in Clermont which according to Google is 33 miles away from the airport 34 minute’s drive away. Unfortunately my navigator was not very good at his job, one of the skills for the role is the ability to keep your eyes open. Charlie clearly didn’t do that part of the training as he spent most of the journey switching between sleeping and saying that I had missed the turn off.

We got so lost at one point that we decided to break the man code and actually ask for directions! The first time was in a petrol station where a local man wanted £1 for directions which translated into Dollars much to my wife and mother in laws confusion. The issue with this was that we had a big roll of cash on me that I didn’t want to get out of my pocket as I was worried about getting mugged! Yanks have guns you know!

He was also sitting in the van so he would be able to see what we had and we didn’t know how to get him out.

Actually he was a quite nice fella and just wanted a few quid to get by, but I wasn’t taking any chances. The mother in law bunged him a few bucks and he was off.

This was not the only time we had to ask though as the Florida accent is not the easiest to understand especially with the slang that they use. The next time was at another petrol station, this time we spoke to the people working inside the shop.

We approached the woman behind the counter and explained our situation, unfortunately she was new to the area. She had just moved there from Ilford!  What are the chances of that an Ilford girl in Florida. Her husband couldn’t help either as he was from India they had just moved there after they had just got married. Typical.

As we were all hungry we decided to go to the Pizza shop next door to the petrol station, when we went in we noticed that there was a huge map on the wall, so we decided to see if we could work out where we were. As a stroke of genius I thought I would ask the pizza people if they could deliver to the address we were staying in as we discovered through the map that we were in the Clermont area, thinking we could follow. No such luck but we were told we were only 10 minutes away up a straight road opposite.

This was a huge relief as we had been traveling for around 3 hours!!! A 34 minute journey taking over 3 hours! So with Pizza in a box and a road pointed out to us we hit the road with improved vigor. Sure enough within 10 minutes or so on the opposite side of the road we saw the entrance to the estate where we were due to stay. How are we supposed to get there? This was my next question. They have no roundabouts and there was no left turn. What they have is a U turn. A U turn in the middle of what we would consider a motorway! Unbelievable!

When I learnt to drive U turns were not the done thing on English roads not in those sort of circumstances. But in Orlando that’s the process. So here I was on the wrong side of the road on the wrong side of the car in a van big enough to carry the Jackson 5 and the Osmonds preparing to do a U turn on the motorway. My bum was trumping big time! I did however pluck up the courage to go for it, especially as I was so stressed and tiered from this epic journey I just wanted to get there.

We did give my father in law the chance of driving during that holiday but only the once. We had decided we wanted to go to the Everglades for the day to see the alligators. Charlie pulled off the drive in the van and headed up the road but on the wrong side of the road, easy mistake to make but when we reached the exit of the estate we had to cross the motorway but Charlie was waiting to pull out looking the wrong way! I got an even worse feeling when we got to our side of the road but went straight into the fast lane. It was at this point that I started to shit myself, Chloe my daughter was 11 at the time and her words of “granddads going to kills us” made me decide that taking over may be the better option!

As much as I hated driving in the states the idea of being killed on the road in the states was more of a worry. So I did head off down the motorway towards the Everglades. Nearly 4 hours journey time over 200 miles. I must have been mad, but to be honest I didn’t know it was that far at the time.

The journey there was actually fairly good. I just stayed on the one road and kept following the signs. Finally we had to pull off of the motorway and I decided to fill up with petrol and ask for final directions. I got out of the van and started to fill up at the pump. Out of the corner of my eye something green caught my attention. Moving very slowly out of some undergrowth a close to the floor was this huge alligator! Nobody batted an eyelid. Me I jumped back in the van as quick as a flash, sod that.

Charlie came back from paying for the petrol and said the bloke in the shop said turn right out of the garage and it is just down the road. Cool I thought but as I pulled to the exit I saw a sign painted on the wall about 30 foot wide pointing directions to the park. 50 Miles away! 50 miles I said to Charlie thought it was just down the road? That’s what the man in the shop said he replied. He’s having a bubble I said that or he’s just taking the piss.

Anyway we pressed on and eventually we arrived having travelled through a Native American area seeing alligators casually wandering around the streets with one kid actually having a small one on a lead. The park place we went to was called Billie swamp safari Big Cypress Seminole reservation. It was really cool. Charlie did give me a little fright as he asked one of the red Indians if he wanted to do us a rain dance! WTF rain dance the blokes got a knife the size of your arm, a swamp full of alligators and nobody knows we are here. Do you have a death wish?

These guys were proper redneck cowboy types, but fun and friendly. The kids had them going with the   “if you say orange slowly it sounds like gullible” in the end they were doing it to the customers as well as each other. We did our ride around and saw plenty of snakes and alligators with the driver throwing gator food on the front of the boat and winding my mother in law up that there was a snake above her in the trees.

It was a good day out and I would recommend it to anyone. My drive home was OK as well which did help.

During our time in Orlando I think we must have found 100 different ways home to our holiday home from the Disney parks I was totally lost for two weeks and I could not get used to the driving. I came home with a totally different view of America and Americans. They are great people really friendly and helpful. Orlando and Disney was amazing and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. As a family we have been back several times. But I have never and will never ever drive on their roads again!

It was really my highway to hell!!

 

 

Once a blond always a blond.............Moment

Caroline’s Blond moment………….

 

In 1985 my wife and I had just moved in to our first home together. We were both 19 years old in low paid manual jobs so our first home was a mobile home on a caravan park. To us though it was freedom, a chance to be together and do what we wanted without interference.

We eve joke today about the first nights of sleeping together in a bed and still thinking a parent was going to come in and catch us! Back then our parents were still very strict, even though we had been together for 2 years we still weren’t allowed to sleep in the same bed at each other’s parents’ house. Hard to imagine nowadays.

As with all new home owners we wanted to put our own stamp on the place and so we set about decorating. Our bedroom we decided to make a very pale green colour but we also wanted to get new carpet. In those days there was a DIY shop called Texas homecare so off we went measurements in hand.

Sure enough we managed to pick out the carpet we wanted and called the assistant over to sort it out. Although there was credit cards these were generally for people who had money, shop credit was also not around at the time nor was there debit cards. The only way we could pay was cash. So as the shop assistant cut the carpet length out we needed and began to roll it up Caroline looked at me and gestured for me to pay.

This came as rather a shock to me as I had specifically given the cash to her to put into her purse for safe keeping. I therefore did what any man would do in my position, I opened my eyes wide and nodded to her (body language for you sort it out). To which she tilted her head to one side gave a frown (body language for NO you were supposed to sort it out), It was at this point the shop assistant noticed the look of horror on my face and realized he had just cut a large section of carpet off of a roll for a pair of divs with no money!

As cool as I could I told the shop assistant that we had left our money at home, Caroline then decided this was a good time to start pissing herself laughing. I was like Queen Victoria not amused. The more I was not amused the more she laughed and the more she laughed the less amused I became. Fair play to the shop assistant though, he never panicked or worried he could see this was not intentional. He obviously felt sorry for me as well having this crazy bird laughing her arse off to my red faced embarrassment.

The very next day I was back to pick up the carpet, needless to say I went alone and I took the money from her purse (which was sat on the mantle the whole time) with me checking my pockets every few minutes just to make sure I still had it.

Up until 2004 I used to tell people this story as the time when Caroline embarrassed me the most. However in 2004 this would all change.

2004 was not a good year for us as a family Caroline became very ill with Crohns disease but we had managed to get ourselves away on holiday to Cyprus. It was Easter time in Cyprus which was a week earlier than it was in England. The holiday was eventful due to Caroline being hospitalized but that is part of another story.

On our last day we did what we always do by going around saying goodbye to all our friends that we have known in the area. To save money a friend who owns a car rental business offered me a jeep to go back to the airport in. He had to drop a car of the next day so it would help him at the same time. All I had to do was park it up in the car park and lock the key under the mat on the driver’s side. Great!

The airport is about 45 minutes away and as there was 6 of us the cost of a cab was around 50 Euros, so quite a saving. Bearing in mind this was the end of the holiday cash was running low and so any saving was a saving worth making.

Our flight was early hours of the morning and so blurry eyed we set off to the airport. We arrived in good time and I did as asked and locked the car up putting the key under the drivers mat. I loaded up the trollies with the cases and two Cypriot BBQs (excellent bits of kit well recommended).

 

 

I joined the queue for the booking in desk as the dad I always collected up the tickets and passports and took them to the desk to answer the questions. Caroline did her normal “I’m off to the loo” routine followed by our daughter and my future daughter in-law. I was in the queue for quite a while but finally I made it to the desk and placed my papers on top for the checker to go through.

There was a bit of a pause, she looked at the papers then looked at me, then looked back at the papers again. “I am very sorry but you are late for your flight” she said “No I can’t be we left well in time” I replied “not early enough for yesterday!” she quipped “yesterday? Yesterday what do you mean yesterday?” panic had started to set in at this point. “It’s a very common mistake sir “she said trying to make me feel less of an idiot “as it is the early hours to book in you have read the date incorrectly you should have been here yesterday morning”.

I turned to face the queue looking for some kind of answer, Caroline was stood there all lovely and tanned happy smile on her face. I gestured to her to come and join me (you know the concerned nod of the head) she looked confused and mouthed “what?” I gestured again and added a pout and widened my eyes, she knew I was serious now.

Over she came big smile but confused “what??” “What time is our flight?” I enquired “4 o’clock” she replied with clear certainty. “Yeah 4 o’clock YESTERDAY!!!!” I exclaimed.  She looked at the lady on the desk and then looked back at me. She then proceeded to laugh, and laugh and laugh. The more I said its not funny the more she laughed. She then proceeded to walk away leaving me stood the like a complete plank.

As it was Easter the flights were fully booked up we were not going anywhere that day. Trying to get any sense out of Caroline in terms of what we need to do next was impossible. She was laughing and joking with an armed solider (who to be honest looked rather bemused).

On this holiday at this time two of our children were still at school our eldest son was in his first job as was his girlfriend (our future daughter in law). Of course both Caroline and I also had jobs to return to. So top of the list this all had to be sorted as well as how and when we would be able to get back home. But more pressing was what were we going to do now.

We finally (amongst her hysterics and that of the kids) decided the best thing to do was go back to the apartment to get some sleep and deal with the issues the next day.  So off we went to the car only to realize that as instructed I had locked the keys inside! Cabs it is then so off we went to the airport taxi rank. As it was Easter all the Cypriots were on a day off so there they were a group of stand in Russians. Now as there was six of us with luggage we had to take 2 taxis. Not only that but the fee for each cab was now going to be 70 Euros each and guess who had to pay? Yep muggings here.

As these guys were stand ins they had no idea where Kapparis was so I had to direct the driver all the way. His English was shocking better than my Russian to be fair but still shocking. His driving on the other hand was worse than shocking. Evil Kenival would have been so proud. I have never been so glad to get to a destination alive than that day.

Going out the next day was rather odd as everyone we said goodbye to the day before had to do a double take, and of course that then made Caroline laugh all the more. We had to sort out work issues and schools and so on as well as booking new flights.

I managed to get some booked the next day but the demand was high as Cypriots living in the UK were now returning after the Easter holiday. In the end it cost me 600 Euros for the flights as well as the 140 Euros for the taxis. We were very fortunate that the friend with the car rentals took pity on us and offered to take us back to the airport for free.

So we could have a chilled out day we decided to go to a beach area we knew which was out of the way from everything. It had been a long couple of days and we had to be up early again the next day so chilled out was the plan.

You can always relay on kids to bring you back to reality and whilst we were sat snoozing on the beech this is what the kids decided to do!!

 

 

 

Needless to say we did have a good laugh about it and we have lived off of this story on more than one occasion. When Caroline went back to work they actually put banners up and filled her work area with paper airplanes, work places can be unforgiving.

The thing that makes the whole situation worse is that for days leading up to the holiday Caroline kept on correcting everyone with the return date, but we had the right one and her persistence convinced us that she knew what she was doing.

Since that holiday I have always ensured that I check the tickets and organize everything, that trust has long since gone. Had I got another weeks holiday out of it I might not have been such a misog about it.

 

Caroline did not learn her lesson though as she went on to nearly miss her flight out of Heathrow with her mum because she was too busy in duty free!!!! But that’s another story, I guess it’s just part of her overall charm and why we love her.