Given that I seem to do a lot of moaning and groaning, I thought I'd post a good news story today. Well, good news for me at any rate! BTW, it does start off moany but gets more positive...
Today was anticipated to be the day from hell work-wise. Not only did I go wine tasting last night on an empty stomach and on top of a late, wine-fuelled night on Monday, but I also had meetings scheduled from 9am-3.30pm. And they were predicted to be nasty meetings.
My alarm went off this morning at some ungodly hour - I wanted to get in early to try and get on top of things and ensure I was prepared for the meetings - and I was in work by about 8.15. Unheard of for me. And nursing a mild hangover. My stress levels were high. I went to my 9am (internal) meeting and walked out of that within about three minutes. Told them I couldn't do it and had to get on with a costing. What a diva! Then by 10am I'm in a taxi en route to client meeting numero uno. I was predicting a tough meeting. It was a breeze and all went swimmingly. Client meeting two went even better. I bonded with my client-side counterpart and I actually think that project might go OK now. Just time to get a sandwich and try and get my head around client meeting number three, which I wasn't looking forward to. That meeting went well too.
All that worrying had been in vain. Back at the studio I debated with a colleague - who had been at all four meetings too, and who had also expected the worst - whether it was silly to have worried unnecessarily about something over which we had no control. But the conclusion was that maybe we wouldn't have perceived the meetings having gone quite so well had we not been so anxious and pessimistic. By assuming the worst, we'd ended up being pleasantly surprised. (That's kind of what happened with me and my skydive too.)
Then, the icing on the 'now suddenly good day' cake was that my big boss said he was going to M&S and did I want anything. I jokingly said a gin and tonic. Lo and behold, within about 10 minutes I was served a quarter bottle of gin, a bottle of slimline tonic, a glass, sliced lemon and ice, on a tray at my desk. At 3.30 in the afternoon. God, I love that man! I tried telling him that it probably wasn't the best idea for me to start on the G&Ts so early in the day when I had a shitload of work still to do, but it would've been rude not to have a couple after he'd gone to all that effort.
What a great day today turned out to be! I feel lucky to have such lovely, supportive colleagues - I received so much practical and emotional support from everyone today. That really made it. And I love the big boss's live for the moment mentality. Sometimes a G&T at 3.30pm at your desk is just what you need. Sod convention and work for a moment; life's too short.
Wednesday 26 January 2011
Friday 21 January 2011
Sorry, this one really is all about me
Several years ago, like maybe five, a colleague did my birth chart for me. On a whim, tonight, I started reading through it again. Those of you who know me well may find this interesting. Or just incredibly self-obsessed and rather dull!
- You love interacting with others, and delight in experiencing life in a social setting. The challenge of working out the intricacies and problems posed in relationships gives you a feeling of enormous satisfaction, especially when things work out in a positive manner.
- You are constantly aware of an inner tension that makes you want to upset your settled existence and throw off the traces by heading off in some sort of wildly tangential direction in your career or relationships [what, like VSO for example?]. For you to feel at ease, you need to find constructive ways to satisfy this rebellious attitude. In order to avoid acting in a sullen, unpredictable and contrary manner with the feeling that life has passed you by, consider consciously seeking out a lifestyle with a large amount of variety and a good deal of risk. In doing so, you will be happy, and others will find you refreshing.
- At your best, you are extremely cautious and conservative. But often you analyze situations to such an extent that you develop a feeling that all of life is difficult, hard to deal with, and oppressive. This leads to your feeling depressed and alienated. Often you are paralyzed by inaction because you are afraid that what you decide to do may be the wrong thing. Try to lighten up on yourself. Don’t be afraid to act. Even though you are faced with a number of choices, your decision-making processes are so thorough that probably all your possibilities are correct and appropriate.
-You have an innate toughness about you that sees you through difficult times. Indeed you are at your best when challenged by seemingly impossible circumstances. You have the discipline and tenacity to face overwhelming odds or to deal constructively with radical and sweeping changes. You are a survivor and, ultimately, a winner. As such, you have the ability to lead others, especially in times of stress.
-Your physical attractiveness is an annoying issue in your life. It is very difficult for you to judge whether you are truly attractive or not, and you usually will not take the word of those who are close to you. Remember that they are attracted to you because of what you are. They accept you, and so should you. Even though you think that you should always be seeking to make improvements and will devote much time and energy to self-improvement, it is probably not really necessary.
- You are a perfectionist by nature...
- Stubborn and tough, you fight for any position you believe in, and are formidably resourceful when you become angered or upset about something. Because you are easily hurt by others, you may strike back with bitter sarcasm. For you, life must be experienced intensely and totally, and you enjoy living life at the cutting edge. Possessed of great courage, you are willing to take calculated risks. With your sensitive curiosity, you are concerned with the deeper mysteries of human psychology.
- Fear of poverty motivates your desire to work hard and make money, often to the exclusion of meaningful relationships. Beneath your impeccable appearance and sexual magnetism lies an insecure child seeking approval from peers and loved ones. Tolerant, generous and infinitely patient, you have earned the reputation for being the one upon whom others can rely. Once you begin to feel good about yourself, you won’t feel guilty about all the material things your money can buy. You are sensual and affectionate but require a great deal of tenderness and attention in return.
- Relationships (both business and personal) are necessary for you in order to understand the world around you. You need the counterpoint of a partner in order to become exposed to new experiences. When you are left to depend solely on yourself, you tend to withdraw and feel lost and lonely.
- Extremely restless and curious, you are always on the lookout for new and stimulating experiences. You are easily bored when you are forced into doing routine, repetitive tasks. You love to travel and will go out of your way to seek out new and different points of view. For an idea to have a strong impact on you, however, it must first appeal to your emotions. Try not to let attitudes that you learned early in life close your mind to the exciting opinions that you will encounter.
- You have many friends and acquaintances, and it takes some doing just trying to fit them all in to your busy social schedule. [You can say that again!]
- You have a unique and independent outlook on life, but you keep on trying to suppress it. You try to live up to the expectations and guidelines that those who are important to you have set up. But that is not the real you and you know it and find it very frustrating. You are afraid to break out of your rut, however, and live according to your own rules.
There are also some things that are way off. Like, for example:
- You would rather talk than eat. [Doesn't sound much like me!]
- Shy and reserved...
- Prone to inertia and depression, you may identify with those who do not fit in with the rest of society.
- You are attracted to studies that demand an unruffled temperament in order to handle any kind of intricate and complex subject matter. This would include science, communications, electronics, computers and maybe even astrology.
- Be careful of a tendency to become placid and self-satisfied and to overeat (especially sweets).
- You love interacting with others, and delight in experiencing life in a social setting. The challenge of working out the intricacies and problems posed in relationships gives you a feeling of enormous satisfaction, especially when things work out in a positive manner.
- You are constantly aware of an inner tension that makes you want to upset your settled existence and throw off the traces by heading off in some sort of wildly tangential direction in your career or relationships [what, like VSO for example?]. For you to feel at ease, you need to find constructive ways to satisfy this rebellious attitude. In order to avoid acting in a sullen, unpredictable and contrary manner with the feeling that life has passed you by, consider consciously seeking out a lifestyle with a large amount of variety and a good deal of risk. In doing so, you will be happy, and others will find you refreshing.
- At your best, you are extremely cautious and conservative. But often you analyze situations to such an extent that you develop a feeling that all of life is difficult, hard to deal with, and oppressive. This leads to your feeling depressed and alienated. Often you are paralyzed by inaction because you are afraid that what you decide to do may be the wrong thing. Try to lighten up on yourself. Don’t be afraid to act. Even though you are faced with a number of choices, your decision-making processes are so thorough that probably all your possibilities are correct and appropriate.
-You have an innate toughness about you that sees you through difficult times. Indeed you are at your best when challenged by seemingly impossible circumstances. You have the discipline and tenacity to face overwhelming odds or to deal constructively with radical and sweeping changes. You are a survivor and, ultimately, a winner. As such, you have the ability to lead others, especially in times of stress.
-Your physical attractiveness is an annoying issue in your life. It is very difficult for you to judge whether you are truly attractive or not, and you usually will not take the word of those who are close to you. Remember that they are attracted to you because of what you are. They accept you, and so should you. Even though you think that you should always be seeking to make improvements and will devote much time and energy to self-improvement, it is probably not really necessary.
- You are a perfectionist by nature...
- Stubborn and tough, you fight for any position you believe in, and are formidably resourceful when you become angered or upset about something. Because you are easily hurt by others, you may strike back with bitter sarcasm. For you, life must be experienced intensely and totally, and you enjoy living life at the cutting edge. Possessed of great courage, you are willing to take calculated risks. With your sensitive curiosity, you are concerned with the deeper mysteries of human psychology.
- Fear of poverty motivates your desire to work hard and make money, often to the exclusion of meaningful relationships. Beneath your impeccable appearance and sexual magnetism lies an insecure child seeking approval from peers and loved ones. Tolerant, generous and infinitely patient, you have earned the reputation for being the one upon whom others can rely. Once you begin to feel good about yourself, you won’t feel guilty about all the material things your money can buy. You are sensual and affectionate but require a great deal of tenderness and attention in return.
- Relationships (both business and personal) are necessary for you in order to understand the world around you. You need the counterpoint of a partner in order to become exposed to new experiences. When you are left to depend solely on yourself, you tend to withdraw and feel lost and lonely.
- Extremely restless and curious, you are always on the lookout for new and stimulating experiences. You are easily bored when you are forced into doing routine, repetitive tasks. You love to travel and will go out of your way to seek out new and different points of view. For an idea to have a strong impact on you, however, it must first appeal to your emotions. Try not to let attitudes that you learned early in life close your mind to the exciting opinions that you will encounter.
- You have many friends and acquaintances, and it takes some doing just trying to fit them all in to your busy social schedule. [You can say that again!]
- You have a unique and independent outlook on life, but you keep on trying to suppress it. You try to live up to the expectations and guidelines that those who are important to you have set up. But that is not the real you and you know it and find it very frustrating. You are afraid to break out of your rut, however, and live according to your own rules.
There are also some things that are way off. Like, for example:
- You would rather talk than eat. [Doesn't sound much like me!]
- Shy and reserved...
- Prone to inertia and depression, you may identify with those who do not fit in with the rest of society.
- You are attracted to studies that demand an unruffled temperament in order to handle any kind of intricate and complex subject matter. This would include science, communications, electronics, computers and maybe even astrology.
- Be careful of a tendency to become placid and self-satisfied and to overeat (especially sweets).
Thursday 20 January 2011
Two (maybe unsurprising) observations
Two things have struck me in recent days; both related to T's accident but both slightly random:
1. How much variation there is between what I remember and what I don't
This intrigues me. I can vividly remember being on the train (pre-call). I'd been working late and ended up on a stopping service. A woman got on at Wimbledon and sat next to me. She'd been out for a drink; I could smell the alcohol on her. For some reason she annoyed me (or maybe the fact she'd been out enjoying herself while I'd been at work annoyed me.) Then the call came. She supported me off the train when I almost passed out and she got me up the stairs, checking I'd be OK from there. I can remember that so well. I remember too the call I made to Andy asking for a lift to the hospital. And being at the hospital: how I caught my shoe on the door in A&E and scratched the leather; going through to see T for the first time, and spending my last night with him - the smell of his deodrant as I nestled against him on the bed, scrutinising every inch of his body - committing it to memory; the feel of his broken bones beneath me; being encouraged to eat something and only managing some dry crackers. That's all so vivid. Even now. But I can't for the life of me remember other things about that night. I can't really remember some of the people who were there being there, or them leaving again. I can't remember how and when I told people about what had happened. I can't remember coming home - what time it even was - what I did, waking up (how the hell did I wake up to that reality?). That's all gone. The shock I guess, the protection mechanism. But how did my brain filter out what it's going to remember and what it's not? As I said, I find it intriguing.
2) How I feel like a new person
I can't really remember the old me that well. I can't picture what that McRudders was like pre-T's accident; how she thought, what she was like; what motivated and drove her. In my new mind, she was weaker in some respects and more wishy-washy. I dunno. I only know the new me now. I feel older somehow. And much wiser (about the important things in life, or maybe that should be death). I also feel that I've got a colder edge, maybe an aloofness, because I feel I'm alone on many levels (not necessarily physically alone as I'm so well supported by my loving family and friends - more a situational aloneness. It's hard to articulate). I think I'm more particular about my appearance (my sister commented that it's as if I've got a new eye for things - what's that about?) I wonder if one is the more genuine me? Am I still in protective mode and have my guard up? Or have I been changed by what's happened? Or a bit of both? Probably the latter I guess.
Either way, it feels like a brave new world. No better, no worse. Just the world I've found myself in and the only world I know for now. But I think I'm more content in that world than I've been to date. I can accept it and deal with it and enjoy it. It's taken time but I think I'm getting there. Hurrah!
1. How much variation there is between what I remember and what I don't
This intrigues me. I can vividly remember being on the train (pre-call). I'd been working late and ended up on a stopping service. A woman got on at Wimbledon and sat next to me. She'd been out for a drink; I could smell the alcohol on her. For some reason she annoyed me (or maybe the fact she'd been out enjoying herself while I'd been at work annoyed me.) Then the call came. She supported me off the train when I almost passed out and she got me up the stairs, checking I'd be OK from there. I can remember that so well. I remember too the call I made to Andy asking for a lift to the hospital. And being at the hospital: how I caught my shoe on the door in A&E and scratched the leather; going through to see T for the first time, and spending my last night with him - the smell of his deodrant as I nestled against him on the bed, scrutinising every inch of his body - committing it to memory; the feel of his broken bones beneath me; being encouraged to eat something and only managing some dry crackers. That's all so vivid. Even now. But I can't for the life of me remember other things about that night. I can't really remember some of the people who were there being there, or them leaving again. I can't remember how and when I told people about what had happened. I can't remember coming home - what time it even was - what I did, waking up (how the hell did I wake up to that reality?). That's all gone. The shock I guess, the protection mechanism. But how did my brain filter out what it's going to remember and what it's not? As I said, I find it intriguing.
2) How I feel like a new person
I can't really remember the old me that well. I can't picture what that McRudders was like pre-T's accident; how she thought, what she was like; what motivated and drove her. In my new mind, she was weaker in some respects and more wishy-washy. I dunno. I only know the new me now. I feel older somehow. And much wiser (about the important things in life, or maybe that should be death). I also feel that I've got a colder edge, maybe an aloofness, because I feel I'm alone on many levels (not necessarily physically alone as I'm so well supported by my loving family and friends - more a situational aloneness. It's hard to articulate). I think I'm more particular about my appearance (my sister commented that it's as if I've got a new eye for things - what's that about?) I wonder if one is the more genuine me? Am I still in protective mode and have my guard up? Or have I been changed by what's happened? Or a bit of both? Probably the latter I guess.
Either way, it feels like a brave new world. No better, no worse. Just the world I've found myself in and the only world I know for now. But I think I'm more content in that world than I've been to date. I can accept it and deal with it and enjoy it. It's taken time but I think I'm getting there. Hurrah!
Thursday 6 January 2011
Tim's inquest
After 18 long months, today we finally had the inquest into T's death. It was a tough day on lots of levels, as you might expect. (Be warned, this one might be a tear-jerker. It's certainly set me off, so don't read if you don't want to know the facts.)
1) The weather was shocking. That doesn't really bother me, other than the fact it made driving on the M25 round to Kent (where the inquest was held) like an extreme sport. I don't think I've driven in worse conditions. Visibility was zero at times - you just had to point the steering wheel in the right direction and hope that you came out of the carwash-like spray from the lorry you were overtaking in the same lane you started in. One good thing about that was it meant there was no space in my brain to think about what was to come. It required 100% concentration. That was definitely a good thing in retrospect.
2) The inquest was held in Kent. The county where T was born. The county where T also died. To get there I had to drive past signs for Brands Hatch. And signs for the hospital where T was taken after the accident. It was the same journey I had to make on that night in July 2009 when I received the news. Hard hard hard.
3) We had to sit through a summary of T's accident. We heard statements from two of the paramedics that attended to T in the minutes after his accident. The same two people who also accompanied him to hospital in the ambulance while performing CPR on him (which eventually restarted his heart and enabled him to be an organ donor). One of the guys can only have been in his early twenties. I felt for him. A track marshall also provided evidence. He was visibly moved and approached me afterwards to offer his condolences. He was a retired police motorcyclist so he understood. Everything. A policewoman summarised the police evidence and finally the pathologist reported his findings. I got to ask the questions that had been bugging me since July 2009. Were T's injuries survivable? Had the fact that Kings were too busy to look at the brain scans the hospital in Kent sent them, contributed to T's death? The answer was no. On both counts. T suffered little visible injury - I can testify to that. However, the internal injuries were fatal. His poor skull was fractured, his brain was swollen and his neck was broken, which meant that the brainstem was severed. My poor T. But the good news is that the pathologist said he wouldn't have known anything about it. Even when his heart restarted in the ambulance. Hard to hear, but good too. Good that he didn't suffer. That would have been hard to bear.
On the positive side, it was good to meet some more of the amazing people who tended to T. People who were at the scene in less than a minute of the accident happening. Who did their utmost to help him. Who were there looking after my boy while I was still oblivious to the horror that was unfolding. The day my world was shattered.
A verdict of accidental death was recorded. As I'd expected. T's toxicology tests were negative, his bike was roadworthy, no-one else was involved, etc etc - we knew all that. Having seen the CCTV footage of the accident, it was clear that that's exactly what it was, a freak accident. MotoGP riders walk away from high-sides like this every day, at much faster speeds than the 40mph T was doing.
T was unlucky. Why, I'll never know. I guess it was just his time. I like to believe that it happened for a reason. I don't like to think of his death as pointless. There must have been a point to it, either for him, or for the people his death has touched. As I've said before, T's death has benefitted so many people. It does my head in to think about it sometimes. Not just the organ recipients. But the MSF recipients who have benefitted, and continue to benefit, from the £30k+ that has been raised in T's memory. And T's friends and family who now have a different understanding of life. Whose lives are richer as a result of this understanding and who have passed on some of this understanding to their friends and family. His death has generated an incomprehensible number of positives. And maybe that is the purpose of T's death. Maybe we had to lose one bright star to enrich the lives of countless others. Who knows.
What I do know is that while T was incredibly unlucky, I am incredibly lucky and blessed to have the support of such loving and considerate people in my new life. You all know who you are. And I love you all more than you will ever know. Your gestures, big and small, mean so much to me and this would be far worse without you there to help me through the shit days. But with your collective support, that's what I've just done - got through another shit day. And survived. I've got to keep moving. Life doesn't stop. It's good. Right now I feel sadder than I've felt in a long long time, but I also feel positive. I feel like my life is beginning again. Not the life I would have chosen, but the life that I've got to live. So live it I bloody well will.
1) The weather was shocking. That doesn't really bother me, other than the fact it made driving on the M25 round to Kent (where the inquest was held) like an extreme sport. I don't think I've driven in worse conditions. Visibility was zero at times - you just had to point the steering wheel in the right direction and hope that you came out of the carwash-like spray from the lorry you were overtaking in the same lane you started in. One good thing about that was it meant there was no space in my brain to think about what was to come. It required 100% concentration. That was definitely a good thing in retrospect.
2) The inquest was held in Kent. The county where T was born. The county where T also died. To get there I had to drive past signs for Brands Hatch. And signs for the hospital where T was taken after the accident. It was the same journey I had to make on that night in July 2009 when I received the news. Hard hard hard.
3) We had to sit through a summary of T's accident. We heard statements from two of the paramedics that attended to T in the minutes after his accident. The same two people who also accompanied him to hospital in the ambulance while performing CPR on him (which eventually restarted his heart and enabled him to be an organ donor). One of the guys can only have been in his early twenties. I felt for him. A track marshall also provided evidence. He was visibly moved and approached me afterwards to offer his condolences. He was a retired police motorcyclist so he understood. Everything. A policewoman summarised the police evidence and finally the pathologist reported his findings. I got to ask the questions that had been bugging me since July 2009. Were T's injuries survivable? Had the fact that Kings were too busy to look at the brain scans the hospital in Kent sent them, contributed to T's death? The answer was no. On both counts. T suffered little visible injury - I can testify to that. However, the internal injuries were fatal. His poor skull was fractured, his brain was swollen and his neck was broken, which meant that the brainstem was severed. My poor T. But the good news is that the pathologist said he wouldn't have known anything about it. Even when his heart restarted in the ambulance. Hard to hear, but good too. Good that he didn't suffer. That would have been hard to bear.
On the positive side, it was good to meet some more of the amazing people who tended to T. People who were at the scene in less than a minute of the accident happening. Who did their utmost to help him. Who were there looking after my boy while I was still oblivious to the horror that was unfolding. The day my world was shattered.
A verdict of accidental death was recorded. As I'd expected. T's toxicology tests were negative, his bike was roadworthy, no-one else was involved, etc etc - we knew all that. Having seen the CCTV footage of the accident, it was clear that that's exactly what it was, a freak accident. MotoGP riders walk away from high-sides like this every day, at much faster speeds than the 40mph T was doing.
T was unlucky. Why, I'll never know. I guess it was just his time. I like to believe that it happened for a reason. I don't like to think of his death as pointless. There must have been a point to it, either for him, or for the people his death has touched. As I've said before, T's death has benefitted so many people. It does my head in to think about it sometimes. Not just the organ recipients. But the MSF recipients who have benefitted, and continue to benefit, from the £30k+ that has been raised in T's memory. And T's friends and family who now have a different understanding of life. Whose lives are richer as a result of this understanding and who have passed on some of this understanding to their friends and family. His death has generated an incomprehensible number of positives. And maybe that is the purpose of T's death. Maybe we had to lose one bright star to enrich the lives of countless others. Who knows.
What I do know is that while T was incredibly unlucky, I am incredibly lucky and blessed to have the support of such loving and considerate people in my new life. You all know who you are. And I love you all more than you will ever know. Your gestures, big and small, mean so much to me and this would be far worse without you there to help me through the shit days. But with your collective support, that's what I've just done - got through another shit day. And survived. I've got to keep moving. Life doesn't stop. It's good. Right now I feel sadder than I've felt in a long long time, but I also feel positive. I feel like my life is beginning again. Not the life I would have chosen, but the life that I've got to live. So live it I bloody well will.
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