This is not really worth mentioning as part of the main story but its worth considering the circumstances I was under from 1994 after I was thrown off Incapacity benefit after perhaps being photographed by the DWP whilst helping out with the village bonfire when I noticed two official looking dressed overall in black people who appeared on the playing field ( a man and a woman ) took a shot of me lifting one of the old child’s chairs over the school fence. I also gave up helping out with the bonfire after that even though I had the unofficial job of safety officer for the fireworks display which always went OK but the next year when I was not there they had a minor accident with the crowd and as a result never did it ever again. I had plenty of enemies particularly from my involvement in pigeon racing who were likely to dob me in as a fraud as my back pain was invisible and perhaps the only reason I could keep so active was that I was running on adrenaline like when I went for the appeal hearing one hot summer Saturday morning in the old denim shorts I had bought from the Army & Navy in Perth the first month I was out in Aussie. I won but felt that I had to resign my post as secretary of the village pigeon club even though everyone wanted me to stay on as after as part of my computer training course I had been producing detailed printed results on my old 286 and dot matrix printer even though I was not popular because I often won especially against one alleged top National Flying Club celebrity. They wanted me to go on and take level 2 but there was no way I was ever going to achieve the 25 wpm and my back was playing up due to the winter weather, not helped by the fact that my mum had died suddenly of a massive heart attack and they wouldn’t give me time off to sort out her affairs as executor. My ( her favourite ) uncle had died and she would insist on going to the funeral despite the fact that she had been taken ill enough to be taken to hospital the week before whist at Christmas dinner with relative at Blackpool and also insisted on going in the car and following the hearse even though it would probably have been easier to go straight to church just behind our house and wait. We ended up parked just as far away anyway and as she was slow at walking fell way behind the rest of the family who I went in with and sat with whilst she and my dad sat at the back. I hadn’t realised anything was wrong until I heard the ambulance sirens and looked round to see her slumped in the pew so went back to help even though the service was still proceeding, the Paramedics carried her to the back of the church into the wide bit just inside the door and tried to bring her round. Despite several attempts with the latest equipment they gave up after about 15 minutes and they declared her dead in the ambulance, and perhaps the incident gave me some degree of post traumatic stress disorder as a result and it was probably the beginning of the end of my relationship with my girlfriend which was rock solid before then.
My mum knew full well what a complete bastard my dad could be at times so to control him she left me half the house and the small prime close to village centre piece of land our family had owned since the 1950s to stop him having too much control over me but even so it was still like living in a virtual mirror image as Granville under Arkwright in Open All Hours in combination with Harold in Steptoe and Son. Anyway I stayed at home and put up with it all as I had my racing pigeons and my quite impressive model railway in the old built on stable officially now garage despite the fact that my dad was prone to come into my room and borrow my stuff then break it without asking and I wasn’t allowed my own opinion on anything. I was quite happy to look after my pigeons and was the local club Blackburn Fed delegate and was eventually made vice president by around 1998 and won our club regularly often on the top 20 fed sheet even in the sprint races despite the fact that we had to fly a mile for nothing compared to Clitheroe due to Pendle Hill.
Getting back to the main plot after Billington and it was now obvious that even if the politicians were not directly implicated the key officers were using traffic calming to sabotage anyone not prepared to pay extra to use to use future Toll Road and particularly the main A59 route from the Ribble Valley into Preston. They had also knobbled the alternative route through Hurst Green and Longridge as well by cutting the once NSL 60 to 40 for most of the route which although plagued by slow sharp bends if you were competent enough and knew the dodgy places you could safely make good progress. I wrote about it in an article to the then Lancashire Evening Telegraph and they were so impressed that they contacted me to arrange for me to meet one of their reporters at the new roundabout at Barrow Lodges built on the back of a new business park development that has never taken off. He took a photo of me with cones left over from when they had been repairing the damage to the crash barriers recently and it was included in almost a full page article but I still wasn’t getting anywhere so I thought if you can’t beat them join them and try to work from the inside. I joined the Labour Party at Clitheroe because I felt they best fitted my overall political objectives and the minimum wage had impressed me but I soon found that most of the members who attended the meetings were ideological clones incapable of original thought. Even so they appointed me as their official transport policy specialist and sent me as official delegate complete with identity badge to a LCC public transport policy forum at Accrington Town Hall on Remembrance Day morning 1999 and the meeting was duly suspended for the two minutes silence at 11.
As trying to be in the spirit of the expedition I went in my car via the discovered when during my computer course was at Accrington tech on night school with the object of becoming an insurance assessor used the route through Read on the Burnley road then using Shuttleworth hall link road and the Accrington easterly by-pass to Rising Bridge, which was just as quick as using the old direct road and less work. I parked up for free on the road next to Sherfin corn mill and caught the bus down into Accrington in ample time for the start of the meeting but right from the start it was obvious that I was not welcome probably due to the fact that I opposed building the new transport interchange at Clitheroe pointing out that it was a waste of money white elephant. One of my points was that there was no coach park at Clitheroe but was immediately shot down by the obviously bent guy one of the main interchange backers who claimed there was, and later I realised that perhaps I had missed it because it was only one space which was occupied most of the day by service buses lying over between duties. Even though I lacked confidence in public speaking I did get across my point that if they were ever going to get more people using the buses in the Ribble Valley there would need to be a bus to and from Clitheroe and the main villages at least every 20 minutes, and to particularly help those without car access in Gisburn I suggested a Clitheroe Nelson service via the A682. On the way back the bus that I was intending to catch back up to Sherfin broke down as the driver who had gone for his half hour break had left the side lights on so the batteries were flat and I did try to help when it was probably foolish, I soon caught another bus anyway and collected some pigeon food at the Sherfin on the way home. In an earlier letter to LCC I had suggested a direct bus service from Chatburn to Accrington and heard nothing except until when the education officers announced a plan to send Chatburn kids to secondary school at Accrington instead of the preferred by most Bowland just a mile as the crow flies across the river between Sawley and Grindleton. If their had not been a mass revolt by parents and the involvement of our local MP their plan would have gone through again perhaps for the benefit of the Corporate Bus operators as owned by the banks.
By this time I was becoming increasingly paranoid mostly due to worrying about being fitted up on a charge of benefit fraud which was not helped by all the propaganda on TV about it and even my dad thought I was putting it all on over my constant back pain and that I was a lazy bastard and should have got a job. I worried myself to death about having been filmed on CCTV at Accrington bus station trying to help the driver getting a start by opening the bonnet at the back in order to use the de-compressors to start with flat batteries but it was a new engine not so fitted and sparkling clean after being steamed off which probably explained why he could not engage gear when he did get it started anyway because the micro-switch was contaminated. I kept on writing my weekly letter to the Labour party NW office at Warrington anyway and my reflections on developments including my observations about why some council estates had a high incidence of anti-social behaviour and other crime.
I had worked out most of the overall plan the Blair government were working toward by 2000 when I attempted suicide having convinced myself that to shut me up the local politicians were attempting to send me down for benefit fraud as the severe pain I was in was invisible. Nobody at the doctors would believe me when I suggested the reason for my problem was that it was infected during my back operation in 1994 as it was always better when I was on antibiotics, and that the frequent abscesses at the top of inner thighs were the infection tracking down the nerve, and when they burst the pain reduced also. They did take swabs but the results always came back from the lab negative for any bacteria.
One of my observations was about an article in the Lancashire Telegraph about a disabled guy who lived in a ground floor flat on a council estate on a prime site near the new M65 between Blackburn and Darwen which described how he had been broken into via knocking though the wall from the empty flat next door to steal his newly bought TV his prized leather jacket and for some reason his vacuum cleaner. The incident occurred during the time he was out on his regular visit for outpatient treatment at Blackburn hospital and perhaps the circumstances were similar to when at Xmas a relative of mine had bought his two kids each a new latest top of the range stereo music player. They lived in a house they picked up and bought cheap just off Leyburn Road and whilst they were out at Xmas dinner with family thieves removed the window from the living room at the back and took both of them as left in that room which got me speculating if Curry’s where he bought them from had employees passing information to criminal gangs in order to make people buy replacement stuff from them to increase profits and staff rewarded by a bonus. Working on the same principle perhaps applied to developers who as cheered on by the local council who were apparently willing to see the estate the disabled guy lived on knocked down as part of John Prescott’s theoretical regeneration plans. Similarly it may have been the case that the developers had sleepers with access to patient records in the hospital and they stole his old worthless vacuum cleaner because they also knew he had asthma. He also had dog poo regularly left outside his front door to step in and perhaps someone paid youths via free drugs to stone the bus and break windows and give the operator the excuse to withdraw the service and strand anyone without a car but not affluent enough to afford a taxi ?
Something very similar had been happening to me over the years probably because my dad had told the guy then running our old shop that he was willing to sell out if he got a good enough offer and it was only me stopping him. We were targeted by antisocial behaviour by one particular teenager and then I started getting my car broken into almost every week and they took my tools I always carried in it which I perhaps foolishly replaced only to be stolen again . When they knew my dad was on holiday someone sneaked in and stole most of the cash float I kept as pigeon club secretary and I nearly caught them but it would appear that he escaped via jumping the short drop from the back bedroom fully opening double glazed window. I didn’t twig at the time as I thought my dad had forgot to close it and I didn’t notice the money had gone until I needed it but its possible it was done by the guy from the shop’s son from his first marriage with a criminal record as long as your arm who had moved into the small house next door.
Getting back to Clitheroe Labour party and they were all gloating about the defection to them of the top Lib-Dem former mayor John McGowan one of those who got the traffic calming in the town centre which destroyed trade and who used a wheelchair for parades etc to spin his disability. When he came to the meetings at the British Legion he turned up on two crutches as props to prove his back problem for which he got max DLA and a new Motability car every three years and lived in an all done up posh council house down Henthorn, even though it was probably obvious he was not putting any weight on his crutches. I had tried them but sticks had never been any use to me even when my back problem was at its worst and I was walking about on virtual tin legs like Douglas Bader as portrayed in the film Reach for the Sky, and it was no real surprize to me when he got convicted of benefit fraud after DWP later filmed him doing an 18 hole round of golf. Anyway my association with the Labour party came to a head in May 2000 when they got me to go and help campaign in the Tulketh ward at Preston one Sunday and got a pretty hostile reception plus they guy I went with parked his car in illogical places and in a way that made it difficult for me to get in and out. It crossed my mind perhaps they were filming and to use it as evidence of benefit fraud in an attempt to shut me up. I was quite knackered at they end and they didn’t even give me a brew after but I had used it to take my Pigeons for a training toss and I came back through Longridge and when I got home I knew I was in trouble as I had difficulty getting out of my car although I managed to feed my pigeons ok. Next morning I woke up in agony and bearing in mind my suspicions I booked an appointment to see the doctor who seemed not to take me too seriously because I was mobile enough to climb on the examination bed unaided but she gave me some Tylex water soluble max strength tablets for the pain.
For the next two weeks I was almost totally bedbound and in so much agony that I got hardly any sleep even though I was probably overdosing on the Tylex and by the following Saturday night I had decided that I had had enough and decided to commit suicide as I didn’t fancy the prospect of being sent to jail. That night I took a sachet of Weedol I found in the cupboard making it drinkable by mixing it in half a pint of milk but all it did was make me have purple runs from both ends and I did get some sleep thinking I would die during the night but woke up OK Sunday morning. I woke up early next morning and still intent on ending it all I rigged up some wire to give myself what I was told an almost certain fatal electric shock hand to hand across my chest led on the bedroom floor and grabbed a live wire between my thumbs and first finger. It was not instant but I did pass out to awake with deep burns and thwarted again I got in my car and went on the by-pass with the thought of running head on into a wagon with a strong enough cab not to hurt the driver but was stopped by the possibility that I would survive but in worse pain than I was already in and even more disabled.
By 10 am I was starting to feel stomach pain and I rung the doctor ( same one who gave me the Tylex ) and told her what I had done so she sent an ambulance to take me to A&E at the then Blackburn Royal where they stabilised me and put me on the acute ward but hat night they thought I was OK to go on a normal ward. I was pretty sure they porter guy pushing me in the chair was deliberately crashing me into stuff and they put me on the ENT ward with a drip nil by mouth and just let me get on with it, regular checks of blood pressure etc and blood samples. However, the nurses seemed really hostile towards me as they wouldn’t talk to me apart from essentials and somebody sneaked in during the night and stole my trainers so when I was actually allowed to go to the smoke room in the basement ( I did think to take my tobacco tin with me ) I had to ask for a pair of the useless free slippers they gave people. By Thursday all the blood tests came back clear and they got me eating. My suspicions were raised when at no stage did they attempt to treat me for the deep burns which were obviously infected and proved by a big rise in my blood pressure one afternoon but the key burn erupted and I was OK after and they arranged for me to be interviewed by a mental health nurse before letting me go home on Friday night. The mental nurse reported that I was not depressed and took no action despite my suicide attempt and I had to go to stay with my cousin at Preston ( who brought me a new pair of Velcro trainers as arranged when she collected my ) as my dad had gone on one of the cheap holiday bargains he found by trawling teletext all day.
I stayed at Preston all weekend then came home to be looked after another cousin who brought her elderly mum to stay until my dad came home and first job Monday was to go down to Clitheroe health centre treatment room and get my burns treated which were stinking by then, I was probably lucky to be seen by an ex burns unit nurse working there and she knew the best way to treat me, got me an appointment at Preston Burns unit ASAP, gave me antibiotics for the infection and when I did go to Preston the nurse was amazed that I had survived. I gave all my pigeons to a friend of mine who had room to take them but I had already been forced to give the young birds I bred that year away anyway.
I was still convinced that I was being fitted up for benefit fraud and became increasingly paranoid doing all sorts of stupid things like when I went down Low Moor on the bus and on the way walking back I did call in at the health centre and asked to see a doctor but was fobbed off by the old woman then in reception who assumed that I was a hypochondriac.
It was only when my dad eventually realised something was wrong and called the doctor by when I was like a WW1 shell shock victim, they took me into Queens Park and the Asian woman doctor wouldn’t believe me when I told her how much pain I was in. The medication they prescribed me by the time I was allowed home at the weekend caused me to experience severe chest pains the Saturday morning and my dad took me to the emergency doctor as then at Citheroe Hospital who could see I was in a bad way but couldn’t take any action because I was under the Hospital and I had to go back where they withdrew my medication and I was better. Then they gave me olanzapine which I later found causes glaucoma and I got an eye infection because when I asked them for Co-Danthrusate to get me moving again they ignored me and it was only due to making a fuss that they gave me two senna tablets. The result was that I had to dig myself out with my fingers and that probably gave me an eye infection which they failed to treat properly and I was almost blind by the time I saw a young eye doctor who told me the correct thing to do regularly wash your eyes with water as hot as you can stand and it got better but by then the olanzapine had probably damaged my visual cortext. I soon as I found out I stopped taking it and now my eyes are pretty good apart from reading books and glasses wont fix it as its not blurred its refracted but I’m OK with my computer and distance vision now. Whilst in they started to take me more seriously ( after taking to a nurse who had worked at Leyland trucks about engineering and showing some other nurses photos I took in NZ in 1991 ) about my back and arranged for an MRI scam. They asked me if I had any chance I had metal in my eye which could have been yes so they gave me a head X-Ray the first one didn’t work and they blamed the auto and gave me another but perhaps they deliberately gave me an overdose as my eyes were really painful after that and perhaps I shouldn’t have had one as my eyes were badly infected at the time.
The MRI proved my back pain and the Asian doctor came to Clitheroe special to apologise at an outpatient appointment but I was still taking the diclofenac they prescribed me even though they knew it caused heart attacks and I was an obvious high risk especially because the posh sounding student nurse with eco style matted hair had perhaps deliberately fed me up to 24 stone. Anyway worrying about going blind and me eyes still painfull I had a mild heart attack and was rushed into Blackburn Royal and they soon sorted me with clot busting drugs to convaless on ward C3 Queens Park where they were still ignoring me about the pain in my eyes and got home after a week the EU immigrant doctor prescribed atenolol and aspirin. It was not until two years later when the practice nurse at Clitheroe spotted they had not given me ramipril after which I got and my health was transformed. Also they did arrange for me to see the new back surgeon at Preston but they had lost the MRI on the computer and I was too fat to operate on anyway !
Are most NHS alleged blunders deliberate and the fat cat corporate trust executives know about it yet turn a blind eye to it as like Stafford they can use poor care to sell closure of hospitals and screw low income people with massive travel costs in addition to PFI private tax rip-off parking charges and stop them keeping an eye on their relative every evening and spotting any mistakes in treatment..
Perhaps a similar principle applies to Morecambe Bay Trust, with hospitals at Lancaster, Barrow and Kendal and a significantly disabled by a motorbike crash once mate of mine who lived at Bentham was always having to go into hospital due to problems as a type 1 diabetic since he was a kid. I once visited him in Lancaster one evening and he told me how the nurses had mistreated him to a point where they nearly killed him and after that he always used to ask the ambulance men to take him to Kendal not much further and easier than the default destination Lancaster as he knew Kendal was OK but some took him to Lancaster anyway.
Morecambe Bay trust proposed to close Kendal as perhaps Kendal managers and union were not prepared to turn a blind eye to the deliberate attempts to kill patients or cripple them in the attempt they probably knew full well what was going on at other hospitals in said trust. Opening up the possibilities even further perhaps the reason Kendal was reprieved from closure was due to the Kendal staff remaining silent about what had been going on in exchange for keeping their jobs. It was probably also an excuse to puff up the political fortunes South Lakes Liberal Democrat MP Tim Farron who was opposed to the Kendal closure with main body of constituents in Ulverston where he was perhaps first elected in preference to the traditional Conservative due to the Glaxo redundancies there. Glaxo had also promised new jobs yet only half the original redundancies also to puff up Farron to win in 2010 important to keep the Co2 influences climate fraud alive as proven by ensnaring David Cameron to link the Somerset levels floods to the influence of Carbon Dioxide at Prime Ministers Questions one week.