Hi; it’s James – just a quick word. (I’m British by the way, which might explain some of the quirky spellings and a few other idiosyncrasies.)
I’ve been writing for about ten years now – not something I ever imagined I’d become so engrossed in. Started as a bit of a self-imposed challenge, to be honest. Whilst there is no shortage of excellent books out there, by new and by well-established authors, I’ve found myself becoming more and more critical of the material that’s appearing on the bookshelves. Jaded; unimaginative; predictable and crafted in boring writing-school style – know what I mean? Maybe it’s an age thing – you know – grumpy.
It’s easy to criticise, though. So under the banner of “I could do better than that myself”, I had a go. The challenge was to write a trilogy (I mean everybody has to go for three where one would suffice, don’t they?) and I opted for a genre in which I which I felt most comfortable: that being Sci-Fi and Fantasy.
It was hard work, but also rewarding. I’m proud of what I achieved. And it didn’t stop there because I’m still writing – books that is. But this stuff is really difficult for me – blogging, that is. So please be patient; I’ll get there in the end, perhaps with the help of some constructive feedback from my reader(s).
Were we to ask those who know you well, “Is there one particular thing that defines you, James, what might they say?”
“His deafness,” most probably.
Yes, it’s true. I have been hard of hearing in my left ear since the age of 10, gradually developing into near deafness on that side. And, after failing to catch something that somebody had said, my automatic response would be to turn my head towards them and say, “Pardon?” Probably the most dis concerting thing that happened next would be for my brain to get in gear and interpret the sounds I had managed to pick up and using the context of the question, provide the necessary answer.
The follow-on question might be, “Remind me, James. Which is your good side? “
Followed perhaps by,”You imply that something happened to you when you were 10 years old…”
Developed, rather than happened. I used to get the most chronic earaches, prompting my mother to take me around to the doctor’s surgery. After a brief look down my ear canal, the doctor referred me to Liverpool ENT Hospital on Myrtle Street. That’s when NHS meant Next Hospital Session instead of No Hope, Sorry.
Anyway, Mr Marshall, using a local anaesthetic, removed a polyp from my ear drum with a tiny scalpel to leave what became a permanent perforation of the drum. Because of repeated infections of the middle ear, I had to use Otosporin ear drops administered twice a day and had to accept, NO DIVING and Swimming only with a Vaseline ear plug, nose clip and a bathing cap (swim cap). Made of rubber and only available in pink, there was no way I was going to the public baths in Liverpool!
When I went off to university, the guidelines were, “The perforation is very close to the brain, James. Any pain, go to the nearest Ear Hospital;” and while studying for my degree, I visited Birmingham ENT and also The Royal Ear Hospital in London. London took me in for an atticotomy operation designed to help drain the mastoid process. It worked! I suffered very few infections after that and I managed with having hearing in just the one ear.
Only when I started singing in a local choir did the limitation of only having the one ear become significant. By then, I wore a hearing aid in my right ear, but this created a problem because in the three choirs I’ve been a member of the Bass section has always been located on the left hand side of the Contralto section! That’s all I could hear – Altos – and what’s worse, Altos rarely have the tune!
But the hearing aid made for a good ear plug when I took the batteries out and my normally useless organ of hearing, was able to pick up vibrations from the piano.
This was when I had my Baldrik moment!
I asked Hearing Services for an extra long length of tubing so that I could wear the microphone on my left ear, with the business end stuck into my right. The technician’s expression was probably the same as yours, while reading this.
The end result of my ‘cunning plan’ was to be issued with a dummy hearing aid for my left ear that communicated wirelessly (and tubelessly) with the other one. “But you do understand, don’t you Mr Lever (rhymes with super-achiever, never Levver), that all the sounds will be coming into your right ear. Some people find it to be disconcerting.”
“I’ve been practising since I was 10 years old. Don’t worry,” was my reply.
But somebody cared. That’s what mattered. I was grateful, didn’t like to mention that is was only a partial solution. My overall hearing did improve; I could now hear my chums in the Bass section; but now the Altos sounded louder then ever!
That’s when I experienced the LAZARUS moment!
After a routine appointment with Hearing Services, I was told that I had a follow-on appointment with ENT!
Historically, this was the outfit that used to poke about inside my ear with metal probes and other evil devices. But this unexpected visit turned out to be a good one – a miracle, no less!
I was offered a one month trial of a BAHA (bone activated hearing aid) on the NHS (novel hearing sensation). If successful, I could have an operation so that it could be fitted to my skull. Temporarily, it would be held in place with a plastic clip – but I declined in favour of a black, elastic headband. “But that’s for children, Mr Lever (as in eager beaver).” In my case though, it served as a poignant reminder to those who have only known me as being deaf (that’s everybody, by the way), and they soon learned not to shout.
It continues to be a miracle. While everything else in my body is gradually wearing out, this is like raising a 10 year old cochlear up from the dead.
Of course they took it off me when the trial finished and I had to wait nine months for the Op to drill a hole in my skull and screw in the titanium stud where the BAHA would snap onto. Had it now for 4 years and my bones are still conducting the sound. Some unexpected advantages are invisible hands-free functionality for my mobile and also earphone-free functionality for my music.
In fact there’s only one downside to it – I’m still not allowed to swim while wearing it!
Achievements
To be honest, I’d need a second website to accommodate all of them, so I’ve selected just a few of them for inclusion here.
(I’m still collating the less positive under a new banner: “Non-achievements”, listed under just 16 subheadings: Disappointments, Setbacks, Failures, Let-downs, Botches, Messes, Bummers, Flops, Washouts, Shambles, Cock-ups, Disasters, Catastrophes, Fiascos and Débâcles.)
Bit of background first: I was born in Bolton, Lancashire – slipped through a Time Warp from another dimension and some 9 years later moved to a village that’s since become part of Merseyside.
After moving from Bolton to Lydiate, Merseyside, although only 9 at the time, I was placed in the top class at primary school. It was there that I had my first experience of dramatic acting, playing the part of Rumpelstiltskin in the school play (not because of my acting finesse – just used to be a bit on the short side). By all accounts, I was very good – can still remember most of my lines even to this day!
From there, after passing my 11+ (at 10), I gained entry to the local Grammar School. From there, I picked up a bundle of GCE ‘O’ and ‘A’ Levels + Use of English.
Already having a few University offers under my belt, I applied to Stewarts & Lloyds Ltd (steel tube and pipe manufacturers) for a Student Apprenticeship. They paid my fees ( & salary ) for a degree course in Metallurgy at the University of Surrey. After achieving a 2:1 Honours degree, I then began my career at Bilston Iron & Steel Works, Wolverhampton.
Did my time in the blast furnace and melting shop departments, the latter on shifts; (I painted this from a black & white photo)
then in the Met Dept., before things took off working in Management Services, when I migrated into IT. This involved some programming (Fortran, Algol and Pascal), a course in Statistics at the Lucas Institute at the University of Birmingham; Operations Research at Lancord, University of Lancaster and a post graduate diploma in computing with the Open University.
Somewhere in between, I survived an Outward Bound (Seniors Course) at Eskdale Mountain School, in the Lake District. This was February mind you and Helvellyn was deemed unsafe for us to complete the three peaks expedition. This was four weeks without alcohol or nicotine! I earned a book token as a prize for the best maintained daily log. (The beginning of my future direction in creative writing, perhaps?)
When the steelworks were forced to close down, I chose to move to Corby (itself also undergoing closure) but infinitely better than other steelworks offerings at Stocksbridge, Rotherham and Templeborough plus a job offer in Salford from an IT company. Did some good stuff while working at Corby, learning an awful lot in the process. Shifted from ICL to IBM and then to Tandem computers. Was presented with a gold watch from British Steel, which still keeps good time – just like its owner!
While at Corby, I took up long distant running when our department put up a team to take on an IBM team in the Robin Hood Half Marathon. Independently from work, I entered the next four half marathons year on year. Sponsored by Pork Farms, I still have a piece of lace from each one, although the free pork pies have all been devoured now – I ate four and the mother-in-law, a fellow Scorpio with whom I shared the same birth date minus 29 years, scoffed the other one. Wouldn’t care, but that was the year that I took 10% off my previous best finish time!
With the millennium fast approaching, British Steel (now Corus) outsourced its IT to Cap Gemini, offloading all the IT departments around the country to manage the changes that would enable 1900 and 2000 dates to coexist within the same software. (For the record, 2000 itself was NOT a leap year!) Fear of possible hot metal incidents made Corus understandably paranoid about the whole episode.
Me and the wife ( an ‘E’ grade paediatric nurse ) both volunteered to provide cover that night – Marie for the hospital in Leicester; and me for all of UK Cap Gemini – I had pass codes to get me through the security cordons on Marlborough Road in London. In addition to lots of money, we, along with all the security services across Leicester, were put up at a hotel one week later and attended an enormous party when they re-ran selected scenes from the millennium event, starting in Sydney, Australia, as if it was real-time. My memory also includes the tax bill!
Some seven years later, it was from Corby, as a Senior IT Consultant, that I eventually retired. The final work time achievement, because of a change in the law, I was able to draw my pension while still being in paid employment! By then, of course, I had become pretty blasé about the tax thingy.
Failures
At the nadir of its fortunes, you could buy Corus shares at 4p, but we didn’t know then that that was the lowest they would go. Within twelve months they had slowly crept back up to something like 70p per share! The only good thing about this, was the knowledge that I must have saved myself a bundle of tax!