Maggie Thatcher - Where were you when she was elected?

I remember the night Maggie was elected. I was in Wembley Cottage Hospital waiting for an operation the next day to get my nose rebuilt. Awful operation!

Can’t say I had good memories of Maggie either.

I lay in my hospital bed listening through headphones to the election results being broadcast on the radio until late into the night.  In those days I used to work on the election counts (did it for Kingston, Fulham and Hounslow) to earn extra cash.  I lost out on the money that night as I was in hospital.

On the other hand I had 6 weeks sick off work.

In the next bed was a young lad of about 12 years old (don’t know why he was in a men’s ward).  His Mum used to come in each day bringing him in food parcels.  He didn’t always like his mother’s food and I helped him out eating it for him.

As such it wasn’t a nose job.  It was rebuilding the interior of the nose after a motorcycle accident in 1977.  I was on my way home from work doing 50 mph on an unrestricted moped (Suzuki AP50 in Candy Red) and crashed into the back of a parked car (Triumph Vitesse Hard Top) on double yellow lines in the Earls Court Road, flew off the bike head first, head hit the rear windscreen, somersaulted, landed on the roof and rolled off into the Earls Court Road.

I landed face down (fortunately full face helmet) and my nose got bashed and was bleeding all over the road. I was paralysed as they scraped me out of the road and into the ambulance but all I was worried about was my nose which was gushing blood.  Fortunately the paralysis was shock and it wore off between being transported in the ambulance and being admitted to St Stephens hospital (but it seemed like hours)

At the hospital they cut off my motorcycle gear and business suit and my leg exploded with blood everywhere. I spent a week on crutches.

 

The police interviewed me in my bed, then my parents turned up.  I distinctly remember them saying "Oh, its you, we thought it was your brother".  Also, I worked I a bank directly opposite the hospital.  I had been the last one out that night and had not only the front door keys but one half of the alarm and security keys.  They had to be collected from me the next morning when I was in the trauma clinic.  The X-Ray staff were on a work to rule and I was discharged to my parents, then had to go back the next morning to the trauma clinic.

When I went to collect what was left of the motorcycle (not a lot left, write off) on crutches with my father (also on crutches) the garage was surprised I was still alive. Fortunately at the time of the accident I was wearing a full face helmet, full Belstaff nylon padded and quilted motorcycle suit with a business suit underneath, and long leather Gold Top motorcycle boots

The car was also written off.

I was prosecuted for due care and attention and fined and given points on my licence for 11 years(?).

The work on my nose the day after Maggie was elected was internal straightening of the air passages by carving away the bone and soft tissue. Very bloody work, two weeks in a hospital bed.  I remember them pulling the anti-coagulant gauze out of my nose.  It was the thing of horror movies and nightmares. 

It took two years to heal and even now 34 years later it still bleeds especially in cold weather or at altitude and occasionally the scar tissue seems to get inflamed (like at the moment). It didn’t cure the problem, blocked passages, and they have offered to do it again. I declined the offer.

The same accident damaged my spine near the neck (this was 13 years before I broke my neck (fracture C6/C7) playing rugby and ended up in a body brace for three months followed by another three months in a soft collar, another story for another time)

One of the consequences for months after the nose operation was that if I exerted myself and my heart rate went up my nose throbbed.  I remember cutting the grass at home after I was discharged and having to stop because of the throbbing.  Also, for some reason my nose became a target and kept getting hit. 

At the time my sport was rowing.  I could no longer row (I was a very small oarsman but made Open/Elite status from sheer hard work and determination, even stroking the Twickenham First Eight in the Head of the River one year) because of my nose so I ended up coxing a crew from Putney Town Rowing Club based in the basement of the Dukes Head in Putney.  The crew consisted of a science student, a builder, a carpet layer and a banker (Ian Cotter, who sadly passed away last year aged 53 leaving a wife and three teenage kids) and me.  Despite this wide divergence of occupations and backgrounds and ages we all got on very well both in and out of the boat and it was a successful season picking up a good number of pots.