Ten years since I last posted. Much has changed. All for the better. Only came back because of the ten year anniversary of my sisters death. Will have a think, but I don't think I'm as grumpy as I once was....

ALL OK.

All is well in my world really. New bird and having fun.

The truth is that there is an underlying feeling of relief. As hard as that sounds I no longer have to think about how I will care for my sister after my parents are gone. Don't get me wrong - I loved her, but as sad as things are it will make my life easier.

|Is that heartless, probably. Is it honest, totally.

Other than that I seem to of run out of things to moan about. I'd just be repeating myself. The truth is that at the moment I find little true worth in what I do for a living. I love my job when I do what I am trained to do; the reality is that I drive a taxi - for half the cash and I really can't be fucked with it all.

Cheers to you all. Live long and prosper!! :-)

BACK TO NORMAL?

Well work have been great I, actually, was offered more time off than I requested and realistically I needed it. It has been a very strange and stressful couple of weeks. I don't think I've stood still until today.

Normally in such circumstances we skulk away and leave the police to do what they do. Now I know what a fantastic job that is done by these men and women. Thank you all.

Dealing with the estate is a nightmare all of its own. The Government are mercenary bastards when it comes to this, even clothing needs to be valued for Inheritance Tax purposes. The last thing you need to worry about at times like this are how much a few pairs of old shoes are worth.

Still this is the way of the world. Managed to get away for a few days. Fishing, which is the best thing for the sole, and a wee break with the old's. Today is the first day I've had to myself for two and a half weeks, which sounds and is good. The problem though is that I've cried more today than in the last 14.

Back to work tomorrow though and I hope the return to routine brings me back on track. I've been pretty good about everything so far. I know that you never get over the loss of a loved one - you just get use to living with it.

So, back to normal? There is a new "norm" to become accustomed to. Feels very strange suddenly being an only child. I miss my big sister.



P.S. Thanks to everyone for the support. It is not unnoticed nor unappreciated.

GOODBYE MORAG.

For twenty two of her forty one years she had lived under the specter of being mentally ill. A hellish twilight region known as bipolar disease, a place that few know and fewer fully understand. Every day was a struggle. A dark world where every direction held uncertainty and fear. Every shadow was a ghost to dread and every noise was the start of an assault.

She struggled on showing a strength that not many people have. A determination to fight the un-winnable fight. Desperate to be liked by everyone and loved by those close to her. She was the inherent mixture of fun, happy and miserable. She could be a real pain in the ass at times and mean as hell to those who cared most for her, she could also make you laugh. She was ill. That was known and she was loved. She knew that, deep down she knew but could only see a cold, lonley future. Sometimes being loved just is not enough.

Over the past couple of years the, irrational, worry of what the future held began to drag her down. Fear of little things like how she would do the shopping to the big things like how would she pay the bills. An inherent fear of loneliness, a fear of living within the realm of the mentally ill with no one to hug her and no one to make her smile. A fear of things the future may hold.

There had been some previous pseudo suicide attempts. Scratching with knives and threats. Nothing to leave a mark on her just cries for help and a strength that she could not find within herself. She was a lovely, considerate, kind girl who did not deserve this. She was an innocent. She deserved better; the best.

Her parents came home yesterday to find her hanged from the banisters. Her dad did all he could, knowing CPR, and the Ambulance crew turned up to take over. Realistically there was noting that could be done but the effort made really did make all the difference. I cant stress this enough. I know it was a token gesture, but it mattered that it was made.

Sometimes you become hardened, not unconscious of, or immune to, the suffering of the relatives. Just, "it's a job", it's what we do. You clear the scene and control send through the next call - off you go. Another day at the coal face.

No matter how hardened you become, how long in the tooth, how much of an old hand you may feel - when it's your sister it hurts like fuck.

Goodbye, Morag. I love you and I'm going to miss you. I hope you have found peace. Sorry I was not there when the storm broke.

WHO ARE YOU.. WHO, WHO, OO, OO?

Someone once said I looked like Bruce Willis ( I'd heard this before when thinner) but I don't know if I ever saw this. I think I look like a young Saun Connery, but realistically I think I could get away with pretending to be Dara O'Brian.

You decide. There's a photo of each of us.

HO HUMM.

No interesting work stuff to report. Am pissed off with midwifes who think that it's fun to call 999 for a 32/40 pregnancy because their on a half day. Then again I am a grumpy old man these days. I'm sure the fact that she blatantly lied to the hospital to justify this makes her feel good. The whole crash team was waiting on us when we trundled up with this healthy 19 YO. No bleeding, no pravia, no hypertension, no tachycardia. I think she gave us the wrong girl, not that she bothered to provide a handover or a letter. Should be struck off.

Good news is that I've organised my physical for the OZ application. Not for a couple of weeks and the closest centre is a 4 hour drive away. Still, gives me time to cut out the fags and practice carrying things up and down stairs. Hope I can manage it!! The stopping smoking bit is not that bad.

WILLINGLY GIVEN .... ?

My Granny called it the "sight", some call it the "gift", some call it precognition. I call it bloody predictable. The price was paid and I must say it was particularly painful.

Some people I have learnt to hate over the years and last night kicked off by three of these folk in a row. None of these people had anything wrong with them and being well known to us everyone involved knew this, especially them. All were pissed and would walk out of the hospital before we had finished booking them in, as usual. All wanted a wee trip up the road for whatever reason that springs into their rotten, Ferrel heads. Eight minutes (8) was the longest any were prepared to wait before getting a taxi home. Ho Hum. Who am I to suggest that these things should be charged for abusing the service? Give them a lift I always will.

A few more drunks and a couple of quite sad psychiatric jobs. A change of blood soaked uniform and here I am at home.

Predictable? It never fails.