JIMBO RED HAS THE ‘BIG ONE” IN PARIS 2001

The next memory from out time in Scotland, comes from a side-trip to Paris. It resulted in a life changing moment. If I remember correctly, it was Ange and Deysi that came up with the idea of visiting Paris. Of course, what Ange really wanted, was to visit Disneyland, Paris. Deysi, this time, had decided to add Paris, as the next stop, on her world tour. My memory fails me, on exact details, but I believe I had meetings in London, at the same time. That meant Deysi and Ange spent a couple of days, seeing the sights, in London, while I worked. Anyway, with little enough delay, I finished. Then we were off to play in Paris. It was during the “play” part that an incident occurred, to change my medical history for many years to come.

During their stay in London, the girls looked at sights, including the London EYE. This was a relatively new attraction, at this time. It consisted of the biggest, tallest, roundest “Ferris wheel”, anywhere. By the way, you are probably wondering if Ron accompanied us on this trip. I think her response, when asked to come along, went something like. “Are you serious? I’d rather not! No thanks!.” There was no grey area. So off we went, by ourselves. We didn’t have to worry about Ange’s participation. When asked, Ange is like, “Disneyland Paris?” “HELL YAH!” As usual Deysi booked tickets, found accommodation, scheduled events and “ran the show”. My role, as usual, was that of “easy rider”. I just showed up.

After a couple of days work, I’m free and we are off to Paris. We had been through the airport a number of times, in the past. I had been in town to attend meetings a few times. But, we had never been “downtown”, to see the sights. We couldn’t wait. Deysi found us a hotel just 2 or 3 blocks from the main action. So, we basically walked everywhere. Our first day was spent walking along the River Seine and looking at all the famous sights. We went to the Eiffel Tower and rode to the top. The view of the city was spectacular.

Basically, we just became tourists and followed the crowds. We walked along the Champs-Elysees, visited the Louvre, drank our coffee at a sidewalk cafe’, and strolled along the River Seine. Our walk along the Champs-Elysees, brought to mind, thoughts of Kuwait and the fires. It was in this very place in Paris, where the French oilfield firefighters marched and held endless ceremonies. They were still “preparing to save the world”, when we put out the last fire. It was so satisfying to tell them, their heroes were no longer needed. What a fond memory!

We practised our grade school French, on the French. I might say I was quite good. The French looked at us in utter amazement, and put down, our complete lack of language skills, to us being, the hated English. We jabbered away, they ignored us. Oh, how fun it was. Now, Ange was trudging along beside us, doing her best to look cheerful. However, what she was really there for, was Disneyland Paris. It was scheduled for day two. She could not wait. Deysi, of course, was in heaven. It wasn’t the Venice of her dreams,. However, she decided it was next best. She must have looked in 100 shops, while I stood or sat in the street, patiently waiting. She purchased some jewellery, to commemorate the occasion.

“Enough babbling”, you say! “Get on with it, already!” Ok now I’m coming to the point of this article. For it was here, in Paris, where I suffered the first major health problem of my life (other than, of course, a slight case of hereditary insanity). I had really, no warning of, impending health issues. Nor did I feel bad. The only thing that I remember, is feeling tired, following Deysi on her shopping excursions. I put this down to overwork, stress, French wine, language challenges, and walking around Paris. However it was all about to change. The following is a short story that, I feel, explains the cause of my issues.

Much of this story was posted many months ago. However, I feel it is necessary to bring some of it back into this post. Therefore, I apologize in advance to those of you who have read this previously. But I feel it is absolutely critical, in making my final point, about the aftermath of this trip. Would all of this had happened, if we had not made this fateful trip? I like to think, maybe not. Deysi, always philosophical, says, “it’s karma!” “And it should teach you a good lesson about any bad things you have done (to me) in your past!” I’m not so sure. I will let you be the judge. After reading my side of it! It all starts, after we arrive by train to Disneyland, Paris.

We have been walking around for a while, visited a couple of tame rides. Such as, the tram around the park, and a “small world” type ride. We had eaten our first French hotdog (pronounced hot-dog), drank our first Coca Cola and bought our first souvenir. Things are going well, and then we spot a roller coaster. I could not read the hype written all over it. However, I think it said something like “no big deal”, “easy rider” “for the faint of heart”, etcetera. Ange and I get in line. It was a relatively long line and we move closer to the front, inch by inch. I believe ol’ Bubbaloo went to get us tickets while we waited in line.

The closer we get, the louder and more frequent the heart wrenching screams get. Emanating from inside this ride. Ange is now starting to shed her veneer of bravery. Quickly, starting to second guess her choice of a ride to go on. Her bravery is fading fast. I am as usual, the stalwart of bravery in the face of chaos. Closer and closer we get, no mom with tickets yet. And now, Ange is starting to say “well maybe we don’t need to go on this ride” and “dad it’s ok if you want to miss this one”. I tell her we can’t get out now, there is no exit. She says “we can just go BACK through the lineup and exit the way we come in. I puff myself up and tell her “Ange a H…D NEVER GOES BACKWARDS”.

Mom appears, hands us tickets and we are shoved through the entrance portal. An empty roller coaster car pulls up, in we get, are strapped down, the safety lever is set and we give a wave to mom, who is now looking in at us over the rail. What could possibly go wrong. WHHHHOOOOOOSSSHHH, without warning, we are immediately slung straight backwards into a light speed backward loop, ass over teakettle, a side twister, a couple more lightning loops, again straight backwards. I hear a long piercing scream, that never ends, escape from Ange’s lips. I open my mouth to cry for help. Nothing comes out! Around and around we go, up down, over under, all the while backwards.

In what seemed like hours, but in reality was more like a few seconds we were slammed to a halt at the station. We had been flung backwards at the speed of light. Made a revolution of the complete track and landed back where we started. I swear, in no more than 5 seconds. As we slam backwards into the station, my voice finally works and a high pitched “eep” escapes me. In case this thing starts up again, we unbuckle ourselves and spill out of the exit. Bubbaloo waits for us outside and asks “what’s wrong with you guys, was it fun”?

I still cannot yet speak, my knees are wobbly, I have stage three whiplash and my bowels are loose. Ange is starting to recover, but looks like she has seen a ghost.

I’m not sure if this was the one event that started my heart issues for the rest of my life. However, the very next day. After a short walk from our Hotel for breakfast; when, upon return, I am suddenly seized with a pain in my chest. I cannot walk. I just had to stop. Deysi finds me a bench to sit on. Now, I am overcome by extreme fatigue. Deysi is ready to call the ambulance for me. Somehow, I manage to convince her, to just let me rest a few minutes. She does, and gradually the pain is gone and I feel much better. With Deysi, half carrying me, we made it back to the hotel. Where, after a short rest, I felt somewhat normal again. We continued our sightseeing, albeit at a much slower pace.

Back in Scotland, I am ready to forget this little incident in Paris. However, not Deysi. As quickly as she could, she had me booked in to see a heart specialist. Shortly after that, he had me in a “mobile” angiogram van, and on a table. He filled my “pipes” with dye, and sure enough, hanging like an empty sausage skin was one of my veins. “Aha”, he says, “there is the culprit”! “There is a blockage, right there! “You see it?” He then offered these comforting words. “Well, it is pretty bad, but in a vein rather than an artery. That means, it’s not going to kill you. It will just hurt like hell every time you do too much strenuous exercise. We can fix it. I’ll just stick my Roto Rooter (angioplasty) up thru your groin and “clean it out”. Wow that sounds like fun!

Shortly after that, he has me in a bed, in a private hospital in Glasgow. It was all like a dream to me. I could not quite believe just how fast, I went from feeling fine, to feeling sorry for myself in a hospital bed. This hospital, I might add, was first class. It adjoined a very nice hotel, where family of the patients could stay in one wing, while their loved ones were hospitalized a few feet away. Deysi could come sit with me, and when finished, she could stroll down the hall, to her full service hotel. Where apparently she wiled her time, away, sipping spirits and munching bonbons.

Like a whirlwind I was now scheduled for a heart procedure. I’m still unsure of why this is necessary, but don’t have the energy to fight Deysi and the Doctor. I remember, the Doctor coming into my room, and explaining to me what was going to take place. He said he would insert his rotor rooter (angioplasty) into an artery at my groin. Then run it up thru my chest and see what could be done to uncollapse my vein. Anyway, I am like, “ok, ok how long does it take?” And, “when can I get outta here?” He looks at me calmly and says, “well you can leave as soon as you feel up to it, after the procedure”. Again, I’m like, “well, I’ll be going home then, later today”. He smiles and shrugs. Off he goes!

The very next thing I know, is that my face is pinned sideways to this table, and he is gleefully running a “rotor rooter” ( or angioplasty), up from my groin thru my heart, to the offending vein. It was surreal, he had my head pinned in such a manner, that I was looking straight at a monitor. All the time I could see his wire, going thru my veins. I could also hear him talk to the nurse. At one point, he leaned over me and asked, “how do you feel”. I’m like, “who me?” He turns to the nurse and says, give him 250cc’s of XYZ, he’s going into shock!” Again, I’m thinking, “who in hell is he talking about?”

After a bit more maneuvering. Followed by a consultation with a Roto Rooter (angioplasty) specialist. He got his machine to the offending blockage, drilled it out and installed 3 “stent”. These were designed to “shore up” the collapsed tunnel of my vein. Thereby, allowing for continued blood flow to that part of my body. All this time I am watching the process on his little monitor. You think it was unnerving? Let me tell you. Although, since his nurse had injected, whatever it was into me, I felt good. They could have done “open heart surgery” on me, and I would have just laid there, giggling.

A bit more fussing around, and suddenly, whoosh, I am whisked back to my room. “Geezus”, I thought, “what just happened to me?” I don’t know how long it took or how much I had to help them, but I was suddenly exhausted. Deysi is hovering around me, and apparently quite relieved that I made it. The Doc comes in and asks me if I’m ready to go home. He was a “funny guy”! Go home, I can hardly move. So in my bravest voice I say, “not quite yet, I think I’ll just lay here a bit more.” He grins and says, “I kinda thought so, see you tomorrow.” Off he goes again, leaving me in the hands of my private nurse, Deysi.

I am not sure, if it were the drugs that they gave me, but almost immediately, I felt an easing of the pressure in my chest area. So much so, that one day later, we attended the company Christmas party at work. I think that surprised some people, and I heard comments about my sanity, being tossed around. That, my friends, is the complete story of how my heart issues started, and the why and where. In my opinion, anyway.