Filed under: 2025, 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, Age, Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Colleagues, Doctor, Eye, Generosity, Happiness, Health, Hope, Metallica, NHS, Nurses, Process
It’s Monday. In the first few weeks of going back to work after a longish break. And all we are hearing is shit, depressing news from all over the World … so you would imagine today’s post would continue that theme of darkness, and yet it isn’t.
No seriously. It’s bordering on embarrassingly cheery and happy. Admittedly, cheery and happy for me – but given so many people have contributed to the reason for this, I’m hoping it has some positive effect on you too.
So as the title of this post states – a lot can happen in 12 months.
I appreciate you’re saying “no shit”, but as I pointed out, I’m not talking about global events, tech companies or the economy … I’m talking about this from a very, very personal point of view.
Truth be told, when you get to my age, a lot of life has found its natural rhythm so while there will be ups and downs, overall you tend to know how to surf life’s waves.
But the last year for me was pretty extreme.
Don’t get me wrong, the overall view of the year was good – as I wrote about here – but apart from the tragedy of losing many friends and a fucked-up situation with someone I thought was a better human than they proved themselves to be, the biggest challenge I faced was my sight.
I’ve had eye problems since I was 21 but in January 2025, my ‘good’ eye got an infection in Penang, Malaysia that commenced one of the worst medical rollercoasters I’ve had in my life.
And I’ve had a few.
What was initially considered to be a few weeks of discomfort turned into weekly – often daily – hospital visits, endless tests, a range of medical experts being called in, over 50 meds-a-day, a diagnosis so rare it become a medical ‘white paper’ and … worst of all … blindness.
Proper blindness.
The impact of all this on my mental health was pretty severe. To be honest, I hadn’t really realised how much until the festive holiday where my body had the time to finally start to loosen the tension it had been holding – and this was despite visiting a psychologist both after a particularly bad test result and when I was weighing up whether to do the operation as the risks were pretty high.
I say all this because last week I went in for another check-up. My first of the new year … and while the operation had been a success – thanks to my doctor, my surgeons and the intervention of the wonderful PM and his high profile ‘clients’, who organised the specialist who actually invented the operation I was going to have, to come to NZ and consult on my procedure – we didn’t know if it would turnaround my situation.
The good news was after the op, I had some vision – which was a massive news, however I couldn’t see much other than certain blurs of beige.
But over the weeks, with the post-op meds, rest and time – I did sense things were improving, but given one of the issues I had was pressure build up [which you don’t feel] I was pretty apprehensive.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, my check-up revealed the pressure was very good – as in, ‘fully under control’, which meant the main part of the operation had not just worked, but was holding. But then the shockingly good news.
My eyesight was better than my other eye.
That’s right, my operated eye was – under certain conditions – performing better than the eye I’d been relying on for the past 12 months. The irony being that eye was previously shit given my detached retina when I was 21 … but such is the magic of the brain, it has somehow improved to compensate for for my blindness, but now – as the other eye was getting better – it decided not to try so hard.
I cannot tell you what it felt like to hear that.
To be fair, even the specialist and surgeon were shocked at the level and speed of improvement … but they have not just given me the ability to see again, they’ve almost returned my eyesight to pre-illness levels.
No more bumping into people.
No more having my phone screen on max zoom.
No more going to hospital every day and week.
And maybe, no more dressing like a ‘festival chick’ for the Colenso Christmas party.
[Which happened post-op so I literally have zero excuse, haha]
I know, your eyes are now fucked after that image aren’t they. Sorry. At least I can recommend some excellent medical experts. You’re welcome – hahaha.
Anyway, while I’ll need medication for the rest of my life, have regular check-ups and be mindful of lifting heavy items … it really feels like I’ve been given my whole life back.
I know that sounds dramatic. I know there are many others worse off than I ever was or would have been. And I appreciate I was very lucky that I saw a GP quickly … they recognised the severity of the problem straight away … and I had the insurance – and unexpected contacts – who got me the best specialists and surgeons in the country (and worldwide) but there were moments where I felt, with good reason, that the life I had may be taken away from me.
I know I’d have survived.
I know I’d have got through it.
But the problem is at the time, you focus on what’s going to change rather than what you’re going to do … which is why I’m so grateful to everyone who helped, supported and encouraged me over the past 12 months.
From family and friends to nurses and doctors to colleagues and clients to acquaintances and strangers. All of you helped make sure that however dark some moments were, the light was never completely out. Even it is was in my eye. Ha.
So thank you. Thank you so, so much.
And god bless medicine and all you work with it and practice it. At a time where we have global leaders trying to diminish and undermine medical science and medical care, it’s the doctors and nurses we should be listening to, celebrating and compensating – they’re the hero’s, not the entitled egotists who claim to represent the people but only care for themselves.
And if I thought I could see through their bullshit before, I can see it even more clearly now.
Literally and metaphorically.
So with that, happy Monday … but probably not as happy as I will be.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Confidence, Culture, Death, Emotion, Empathy, England, Happiness, Health, History, Insight, NHS, Otis, Parents, Paul, Social Divide
The NHS is 70 years old this year.
While that is a remarkable age, it blows my mind there was a time when it didn’t exist.
The story of its foundation is a remarkable one … one filled with foresight, fight and a governments desire to raise the standards, dreams and potential of an entire nation.
Whether we will ever see something of such audacious good from a government anywhere in the World is debatable.
Obamacare may have come close, but thanks to America’s blinkered fear of socialism [despite having one FBI for example], it means its potential has been destroyed by that criminal, also known as The President of the United States of America.
And all the Republican sheep.
But back to the NHS.
Despite having not lived in England for 24+ years, it’s been a quiet partner throughout my life.
Helping me deal with some of the best and worst times of my life.
And even though there was a time I grew to despise walking along the corridors of the QMC hospital in Nottingham, I was always grateful for it … because it ensured the people I loved weren’t allowed to fall through the cracks at their greatest hour of need.
The NHS has saved my parents life, saved my sight, looked after my dear Paul when he’s undertaken acts of complete stupidity, taken care of my son when he came down with an illness [despite not yet having a British passport] and ensured my parents were given dignity in their final days … it is the single most important and valuable institution the UK has.
I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have lived all around the World and while there have been a number of occasions where I have needed the urgent and serious attention of Nurses and Doctors, I’ve paid heavily for that service.
Of course I’m grateful for all they did for me – they were excellent – but I was also in a privileged position where I could afford to pay for it which is why the NHS is so important because the reality is, everyone deserves the right to being looked after, not just those with a healthy bank balance.
Countless UK governments have tried to undermine or strip away the NHS … seemingly ignorant to the fact it’s one of the few things that is the envy of the World and should be treasured, not pillaged.
So to everyone who has ever worked for or fought for the NHS, thank you.
You deserve so much more than just a nations gratitude.
Happy new year, how are you all?
First of all … don’t panic. I’m not going to talk about what’s been going on with me over the past few weeks.
Nor am I going to write about how my wonderful son is doing.
And – you’ll be especially happy to hear – this is not the recommencement of my blog [that’s next week, haha] but I wanted to capture how I was feeling because yesterday I was reminded about the difference between people who only work for the money and those who work for a passion.
So without going into all the details, my Mum is going to be having an operation very soon.
A big operation.
The good news – apart from the high success rate – is the wonderful NHS will be providing her this for free.
Yes, at absolutely no cost to her, she is getting an operation that will literally add life to her life.
I cannot tell you how utterly grateful and in awe I am about this.
However, due to the NHS not having much money, she will be discharged after only 5 days.
This is a major operation and given her age, 5 days may not really be enough … so while I’ll be in England to help her recovery … it became apparent to us that we would love it if she could spend another week or 2 in a hospital to help her properly recuperate as well as give us the peace of mind that if there are any side-effects or complications, there are medical staff who can assist immediately.
Now obviously to do this would cost money and of course, where my Mum is concerned I’m only too happy to pay … so last night I was on the phone calling a number of private hospitals in or around Nottingham.
Frankly I was appalled at the service I received.
Either people didn’t care, made things especially complicated or simply didn’t get back to me.
We’re talking about someone willing to pay many, many, many thousands of pounds but the general attitude was apathy.
Now of course I appreciate discussing medical assistance when you’re thousands of miles away is going to be difficult … but all I wanted to do was get some information on how/if it could be done as well as an indication of the cost.
After countless hours calling and emailing, only one private hospital sort-of gave me information and frankly it was like pulling teeth.
Anyway, as I was searching online, I saw that the NHS hospital my Mum is going to also has a small private practice … where the money they raise, goes back to helping the main NHS hospital.
So I rang the number and this lady called Lynn answered the phone.
I told her my situation and she told me the private service they offered was only for people willing to cover all the costs of the stay – including the operation – because beds were in very short supply and they couldn’t spare them just for people needing to recuperate.
When I asked for an indication of the cost to cover the whole period we were looking at, she said my Mum’s operation was very big and very complicated so with no private UK insurance, the financial implications would be huge.
Then she paused and said, “hang on a second” before disappearing.
A few minutes later she came back and said she had an idea.
The hospital has a hotel on site.
Maybe … just maybe … she could organise it so that we could hire a room there and then pay privately for the nurses and DR’s to visit my Mum at this location instead.
She didn’t know if it could be done and she didn’t know what the cost would be but she wanted to help.
She didn’t need to.
I’m sure she had better things to do.
And yet here she was, going out of her way to help.
Sure, you could say she did it because she wanted the hospital to earn money, but you could say that about all the fully private hospitals I spoke to and they didn’t want to lift a finger to accommodate my enquiries … the fact is, this woman – a member of the NHS – had compassion, empathy and a desire to help someone who was worried about their family member. Basically the traits that shows someone who puts the cause before the pay check.
People are so quick to criticise the national health service.
Sure there are problems … sure there is money wasted on needless red tape … sure they sometimes make mistakes … but it is an amazing, wonderful service that should be treasured, revered and invested in.
I still do not understand how so many American’s can regard free health care as evil. As far as I am concerned, it’s the people who think this that are the evil ones.
I hope to god this works out.
Not just because it means my Mum will be able to be treated by the same people who will do her operation.
Not just because it will give her – and me – massive peace of mind.
But because if I’m spending my money on health care, I’d rather give it to a place that believes – and invests – in humanity as opposed to just views patients as a profit centre … and I know my Mum feels that way too.
Whatever happens Lynn, thank you. You made me proud to be British.
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Yes, it’s Friday.
And yes, it’s the first of May.
But neither of those things are as incredible as this …
You see, on Sunday, it will be 20 years since I started this blog.
TWENTY BLOODY YEARS!
That’s before the iPhone.
And Android.
And Facebook.
And the Kindle.
And the financial crisis.
And before Pluto lost its planet creds.
AND BEFORE WI-FI WAS PUBLICLY AVAILABLE … so a very long time ago.
I still remember why I started it …
It wasn’t for any attempt for notoriety or popularity, it was more to do with survival.
You see I’d got a job that – frankly – I was woefully under-qualified for, and because it demanded so much of my time and energy to make sure I didn’t completely fuck it up, I needed an outlet for all the ideas and thoughts that were going around my head that I just didn’t feel were right for what I needed to do at that time.
Not because I was sure I was going to use them later … more because I needed to feel I was still connected to the stuff I loved while also believing that if I didn’t find a way to get them out of my head, they’d maybe be no more space left for anything new to enter my head.
And so this blog was born.
Reading through the first few posts not only reveals the times we were living in, but also the headspace I was in.
Trying to balance making sense of stuff happening around me while also needing an outlet for stuff I was feeling or thinking … which, in many ways, set the tone for how this blog has been for over 2 decades.
Which George recently described as, “the blog version of TK Maxx”.
He’s not wrong … and in some ways, I really like that.
Sure, among the almost 5000 posts I’ve written, there’s a lot of [to keep the TK Maxx analogy going] cheap and nasty shit in there … but there’s also a few ‘designer label’ gems hidden amongst it all.
At least for me.
Stuff that made me think, challenge or question stuff in ways that I had not imagined or considered before.
Stuff that ended up impacting how I did things and how I still do things.
Stuff that forced me to articulate what I believe, not just what I feel.
Maybe those posts meant nothing to anyone but me. Hell, maybe no one even read them. But while every post I’ve written reflects something about who I was – or am – those ‘self-defined gems’ have a special place in my heart because they represent a moment where I felt I was growing and learning.
It’s why I always enjoyed the comment section, because for all the overwhelming piss-taking I received, the vast majority always ‘encouraged’ me to look deeper, wider or longer at issues I’d written about. And I loved that. I loved how the people who commented always kept me on my toes … which is why one of the unexpected pleasures of writing this blog for so long has been seeing how my opinion on certain subjects has changed or evolved over the years. It’s served as a great reminder about the importance of always exposing yourself to others perspectives, opinions, experiences and standards, even if the goal of it is simply to be really sure about what you think or believe.
In many ways, that’s the biggest surprise of 20 years writing this blog.
I never expected anyone to comment on anything I wrote, because I started it just for me.
A private place to express my thoughts and idiocy.
But then Andy discovered it and he sent an email to everyone at Cynic and some of our clients announcing it and then the mayhem started.
At that point, blogging had become a big thing. A good thing. A community of people who wanted to help and contribute to what others were doing. A lot of this was down to the great Russell Davies and his iconic blog … a place that not only brought people from all over the world together, but inspired others to start writing their own as well.
It was a place that not only exposed me to a lot of brilliant people I’d never have known about without his blog – people like Gareth Kay, Paul Colman, Northern Planner, Rob Mortimer, Marcus, John Dodds, Lauren, Age to name but a few – it also brought people to my blog who helped add to the texture, lessons and perspectives I was writing about.
I will forever be grateful to Russell for that … especially as most of the people he inadvertently introduced me to, not only still exist in my life but I have met them all IN THE FLESH.
Alas the blogging community, like most things in life, has moved on with maybe only Martin and I still churning stuff out via that platform. [Well, he curates, I churn] And while technologies advances allows strategists to be even more connected in even more ways, the energy of the community is not the same as it was back in the early days of blogging.
Now it feels more aggressive.
More sharp elbows and self publicizing.
Wanting the spotlight on them rather than the work they do.
But then, the industry seems to value those who talk about the work more than those who actually make it … which kind-of highlights why the industry is in the state it finds itself in but refuses to acknowledge.
Emperor’s New Clothes anyone?!
Screenshot
That this blog is 20 years old blows my mind. I never thought it would last that long, mainly because I never gave much thought about how long I’d be writing the thing. It’s not always been fun – when I was receiving a lot of anonymous hate that resulted in me deciding to stop allowing comments was definitely a low point – but all in all, the whole experience has been pretty glorious.
In many ways, this is one of the longest committed relationships I’ve ever had.
And one of the most successful, hahaha.
The fact there are some people who have been reading it for almost as long as I have been writing it, is madness.
Have they no taste?
Have they got nothing better to do?
Or maybe they’re stuck in prison and this is part of their ‘sentence’.
The good news for them is there’s no way this will still be a ‘going concern’ in another 20 years … at least not in terms of how regular I’ve been writing posts for the past 2 decades. Not because I am running out of things to say [albeit Andy said I have only ever written 3 posts and just keep re-writing them in different ways] but because I’ll be – hopefully – doing other things with my life.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll always be grateful to advertising … it has given me a life I never could have dared to imagine … but I am increasingly spending more and more of my time working and collaborating with artists and I feel that’s where my future may be. Not because I don’t love what I do, but because I find their definition and expression of creativity even more interesting, challenging, open, provocative and progressive than where our industry is choosing to head.
But that’s not going to happen yet. Hell, it may not happen at all – I could get fired by all the artists tomorrow for all I know – which is why for the time being, I’ll keep happily juggling my two ‘lives’ while churning out daily blog posts at the same time.
Sorry, hahaha.
That said, the point of continuing this blog is different to what you may think and why I originally started it.
Because while it has helped me grow, learn, make new friends and even help build my professional reputation [which is hilarious when you read some of the stuff I’ve churned out, like this!] … it delivers something that is even more important to me.
Connection to my family.
I know … I know … that sounds weird-as-fuck, but what I mean is this:
A few years ago, Jill said that while she rarely ever reads my blog, when she does – she can hear my voice because of the way I write.
Put simply, how I write is how I talk … so when she reads my posts, it feels like I’m with her.
And she liked that.
Add to this that I’ve shared deeply personal and important moments in my life – from getting engaged to getting married, to Mum dying, to becoming a Dad, to getting Rosie – and Bonnie – to saying a tearful goodbye to Rosie, to moving from Singapore to HK to China to America to London to New Zealand [so far] … which means moving from cynic/WPP to Sunshine to Wieden+Kennedy to Deutsch to R/GA to Colenso [not to mention all the other highs and lows that have impacted or been introduced to my life over this period, be it death, covid, friends, family, health, books, chaos, and/or multitudes of weird, wild, crazy shit] … and this blog is no longer just a place where I rant rubbish, it’s a place my family can have me close even when I’m no longer here.
That means a lot to me.
Not because I want them to need me, but because I like knowing they can access me should they ever need me.
Or if Otis ever wants to introduce me to whoever becomes important in his life.
It’s why I’m going to keep writing it and why I’m going to move it to a free domain again, to make sure it always stay up … because what originally was a place just for me, has become a place that offers connection to the most important people to me.
And with that, I want to say a big thank you to everyone who has ever visited or commented.
Whether you meant it or not, you’ve given me far more than I ever imagined or hoped for.
Thank you. Love you. Grateful for you.