I don't know what brought this to mind, but I do like to remember good things in my life and share them with others, though I wont name any names apart from my eldest daughter Juliet , and you could find that out by a bit or trawling or trolling or simply asking me.
Anyway this starts with a blatant bit of racism on my part, when we moved to Tarleton I had a chance of registering with an Irish or a Hawaiian doctor. I chose the Irish guy, but found he just prescribed Panadol for everything for everyone. I soon realised it was not good and a neighbour said the Hawaiian guy was great. We went on a list which over the many years I was with him saw him lending me his Mercedes when I ran out of petrol , and him phoning me to take him round to see patients when his car was written off. One of the best doctors I've ever had , totally love the guy.
Anyway during a check up he discovered that our two year daughter had an ovarian cyst , that required surgery. What I didn't realise is that she was on the children's terminal ward in the Royal Manchester Children's hospital. Anyway despite many traumas and with the fantastic doctors and nurses there plus her own fighting spirit Juliet came though and is now a lovely healthy young lady and one of a pair of brilliant daughters , but this isn't what the story is really about.
The thing is , could you imagine a bank doing that today? Helping someone in need? Highly unlikely.
But I was just inspired to write this because I still have good friends who would help me if I was in need. The song Chestnut Mare by The Byrds is one of Juliet's favourites so I've included that.