First off, I must apologize to my wife. It’s not an intentional pop at her but its something that makes me laugh when all around me is doom and gloom.

There is an old joke about this old guy laying on his deathbed. His wife of 50+ years is sitting beside his bed, holding his hand.

He begins to stare lovingly in to her eyes and as the tears begin to flow he begins to say his last words to his wife.

“You were with me when I got my first stomach ulcer and helped me through those bad times my dear”, he said.

“You were with me when I dislocated my hip on the ship and nursed me back to health”,

“You were with me when I had my first bike crash and help me forget the pain of the accident”

“You were watching the rugby match when I broke my ankle and helped get me fit to play once more”

“You were with me to support me when I got laid off from the Navy”

“You dropped me off and then picked me up at the soccer match when I broke all the toes in my right foot”

He carried on reminiscing…

“You were at the bottom of the ladder to tend to me when we were cleaning the leaves from the gutter and I fell from the top”.

“You were laying beside me in bed when the lightening struck our new house and burnt out various electrics”

“you were there packing my bags for the boys weekend trip when I smashed my spine to pieces and then helped me through the bad times”

“You were with me after committing all of our efforts to living in the US, they terminated me from my job and forced me to return to the UK after 3 years”

“You were with me back in the UK when my back operation failed and I had to have it redone.”

“Do you know my wife, you’ve been nothing but BAD BLOODY luck, now go away and leave me in peace!!!!”

Now the joke is an old one I know, but the incidents are all mine. And that is a fraction of the things that has happened to me.
I’ve left out bike accidents, car accidents, DIY accidents, work accidents, accidents with kids, and accidents with pets… jeesh.
My life has been one long episode of accidents or calamities.
No wonder I married a bloody nurse, I’d never have survived otherwise.

The main reason for my most recent bout of silence is a rather nasty bout of food poisoning (again). Having met my surgeon on the 31st May to tell him how good my back was, I decided to join the gym to bring up my level of fitness again. On the 2nd of June I decided to have one last monster of a mixed kebab. The survey said “Uh Uh…”.

I have now decided there should be a law against eating kebabs when perfectly sober. I am sure that you need a percentage of alcohol present in the body to get rid of some of the things that exist within the damn things. I wouldn’t mind, but the last time I got the same type of food poisoning I suspected the same place and swore I would never go back. Once a fool, always a fool.

By 2am on 3rd of June I had a fever of 105 and flu symptons to end all flu’s. And when I get flu, I swear it reacts with the metalwork in my body and boy do I ache.

So for the last 12 days I’ve been feeling as rough as a badgers bum. And it couldn’t be just some simple food poisoning could it. Oh no, because that wouldn’t be me would it. Now the local health authority want to inteview me this time because its the second time I’ve had this extremely viralent strain of food poisoning.

The last 2 or 3 days I’ve been living on a diet of lucozade. But tonight I decided to have some real food. Again, bad move. My damn legs are still blue from being sat on the throne for so long. As the old saying in the RN went, “I feel like I’ve just given birth to a killick wren reg”.

I was there that long that I read a complete Cliver Cussler novel and I now have “Twyfords-Made in Stafordshire” tattoed on my butt cheeks.

No luck my arse… Where’s me lotto ticket…