Hospital

 Bangour Hospital

Ever since I was small, I had difficulty breathing through my nose and suffered with catarrh. My Mum had taken me to the Doctor and eventually I was referred to Bangour Hospital (now closed).  Now Bangour Hospital started off as a lunatic asylum (that is what it was called then) and eventually became a full hospital separate from the Asylum and where the wards were basically like long Nissan huts, at least that is how I remember them, with rows of beds. The hospital in those days was in the middle of nowhere and it required two buses to get there which probably took about an hour, or so. 10 - 15 minutes now in the car. In those days cars were much rarer and we didn’t have one. I may have been 8ish but possible younger at the time.  This was the start of 4 operations at the hospital, each required me to be in the hospital for at least 5 days. My Mum took me with my case, pj’s toiletries etc. Every new patient had to have a bath, then on with the pj’s, dressing gown and slippers, all new for my visit. The ward was a mix of adults and children and on my first night, ever, away from home on my own it was scary.  The long ward echoing through the night with children crying, and I am sure there was snoring too. My first breakfast there remains clearly in my mind. It was delivered into the ward on a trolley with a lady pushing it YODELLING to let everybody know she was there.  I had never heard yodelling before, and it certainly woke you up. We got porridge which was nowhere near as good as my Mum’s. Every night my poor Mum made the journey to visit me leaving my three sisters with our dad once he got home from work.  She used to bring me in Tarzan books which I loved.

 

On the day of my operation the nurse came round and told me I would be going to theatre, and I thought I was going to a show. The nurse came round a little later to give me a spoonful of medicine that was supposed to relax me and it was vile. Then shortly before I was to go for my op, I was given big woollen socks to put on and then I was bound in a white sheet so that I could not move my arms or my legs. I was wheeled to Theatre and then gassed which is why I was trapped in the sheet so that I couldn’t struggle. For years afterwards I couldn’t abide the smell of ether. As I was being gassed it felt like I was being sucked down a big, black, negative whirlpool. When I came round, I was back in the ward, no dinner, and I was sick bringing up black blood. What they did, I found out later, was cauterize my nose which didn’t help one bit. That is why I ended up going back for another 3 operations. The second operation was the same format as the other and I was gassed again. When it came to the third time, I asked my Mum to ask if I could have an injection rather than gas (someone must have mentioned this when I was in the ward the previous time). My Mum asked and thankfully no getting gassed this time, but still no better breathing and the fourth visit yielded the exact same results, nada! It was years later; I must have been in my late 30’s before it was fixed? My nose had been broken at Karate training three times, it took me ages to learn not to lead with my nose when I was sparring, anyway the first time (in my 20’s)was a simple op and no difference, the second time, years later the young consultant called me in and drew a diagram of the inside of my nose, he explained that it was the lining of my nose causing the problem and he was going to trim it whilst fixing the break. After that op I had a nose spray, but it was like heaven, being able to breathe through my nose was literally life changing with all that oxygen going to my brain, it was like being in a beautiful meditation. After the next break and operation, I didn’t need the spray and it has been great ever since. And I never take how wonderful breathing properly and deeply is, and what a profound effect it has in relaxing the mind and brain, instantly.

 

I had been to the hospital before but then my twin sister Isabel was with me, she was in the girls ward and I was in the boys ward and we were getting our tonsils removed, this was standard procedure in those days, we could only have been 3 or 4, certainly before we started school.

Karate 2

 Karate Origins

Karate continued

 

My brother-in-law Gordon and I both sat our 1^st Dan grades at the same time.  This involved a lot of hard work and application of technique and power.  Part of it was performing Kata which is a series of pre-arranged moves when you are fighting a number of imaginary opponents simultaneously.  There were a few of us up performing Kata at he same time, Gordon was on my left hand side performing the same Kata as me, Annanko, a fast dynamic Kata, the judges were in front sitting at a table.  I was probably a fraction of a second in front of Gordon when I caught one of the judges eyes causing me to lose my concentration and I found myself stationary for what seemed an eternity but could only have been a fraction of a second as I spotted Gordon out of the corner of my eye, I did the next move he did and finished the Kata without anymore difficulty.  My instructor was watching, and he spotted my little pause but no one else did, Gordon passed first and I passed second out of a group of 20 I think.

 

As a coach I have trained young and not so young, I have to say though that children are the hardest but certainly the most rewarding and funny.  I had a group of youngsters, what I called the peewee class, where the children started at around 4 years old.  I had them standing in a group as I explained what we had been doing and I had reminded them in a serious tone, “This is what we did before!” then a little voice piped up “I’m four!”, then another voice followed, “I’m four” another followed, “I’m five” then “it was my birthday yesterday” and so on.  Coaching children can have some great moments.

 

My sisters attended my women’s self-defence classes when I started them in Edinburgh.  Isabel (my twin sister) even went so far as to come along to some of my Karate classes, I should add that Isabel was and is much tougher and more direct than me.  During the Karate class I have light sparring which involves light controlled fighting with no real contact and there are areas which are “out of bounds”.  Isabel was sparring with my assistant coach who was taking it easy with her, I turned away to watch the rest of the class when I hear a groan followed by a thud.  There was my assistant coach on the floor grasping his “out of bounds” vitals.  I said to Isabel about taking care and she replied with a gritty look in her eyes “he was trying to hit me!” end of story…………

 

I had a martial arts friend, John, who having started in karate and become an instructor, indeed had been one of my instructors for a while before becoming a close personal friend, had become interested in Kobudo, the art of using Okinawan Weapons.  He had trained in London with a well-known Martial Arts specialist, Mike.  Mike was a qualified instructor in a number of disciplines (not Karate).  Anyway, John and I decided to invite Mike up to Scotland to give a course on Kobudo, the first of three as it transpired.  I organised press releases and contacted TV too.  Scottish Television were interested in doing an interview with Mike when he arrived in Scotland.  At that time, I had become unemployed and was driving my Wife’s Car, an old Triumph automatic. On the Friday Mike was due to arrive I collected John and off we went to Edinburgh airport.  We collected Mike, his wife and one of his instructors.  Everyone got in the car, and we headed for STV in Glasgow.  We had plenty of time as the Scotland Today show went out at 6pm, our estimated time of arrival was 5pm at the latest even allowing for Friday night traffic.  As we got closer to Glasgow the car started to make a funny crunching noise which seemed to get better when I speeded up (boy did I get that one wrong).  I pulled into a lay by and checked the engine, couldn’t see anything wrong, surprise, surprise.  With greasy black hands we set off again and by now I am looking at my watch starting to get concerned. As we entered the Glasgow motorway, I sensed the car was not going to make it.  I pulled off the Motorway and ended up in a large built-up area, nursing the car as I tried to find a parking space and figure out how we were going to make the STV studios in time.  Mike just sat in the back looking quite at ease and relaxed.  As I was driving along, I saw an available taxi coming towards us, decision made, I had my dirty hand out the window and managed to flag the taxi from my moving car.  I abandoned the car, by this time it was about 5.30pm, the clock was ticking.  The taxi driver got us there in good time, we met Paul Murricane who was the producer.  We got shown to the Green room where you are supposed to relax and enjoy refreshments before you. This was 5.50 and Paul said, “We didn’t think you were going to make it, I had planned that we would film the demonstration before the show to make sure everything would be okay, now we will have to do it live.”  Being the organiser and spokesperson (and not the person doing anything), I told him it would be no problem looking at Mike who appeared completely unflappable.  Like the true professionals they were, he and Dave his assistant got changed and organised for their Bo (6 foot staff) and Sai (two long, circula and blunt knife looking weapons) demonstration.  The show started, John, Mike’s wife and I stood behind the cameras and watched the show, we could see Mike and Dave warming up in another area, they were introduced and did a magnificent demonstration, which was shot as a shadow fight with their images highlighted by a bright light against a white background.  Mike went to sit and be interviewed by Sheena MacDonald one of the presenters.  Another friend and martial Artist, Robin, who was also a mechanic came through collected us and towed the car back to West Lothian.  The course was a great success.  The next time Mike came up he was back on STV again, no mishaps this time, I mention this only because we the onlookers were allowed to stand in the booth with all the TV screens and watch all the split second timing in operation.  This was absolutely amazing watching a presenter having a conversation with someone and all the while there is a countdown going on in their ear. 

 

I did some business consultancy for a while for Scottish Itecs and organised a seminar called “Train to Win” which highlighted the benefits of training staff to help increase profits.  One of our guest speakers, Iain, became the Open College Manager in Scotland and asked me to help him organise another similar seminar a year or so later.  We called this seminar “Training to Win”.  I believe that people tend to remember impressions and emotions than words and I tried to come up with something to launch the seminar which would grab people’s attention and make the point about the importance of training.

 

Mike who I mentioned earlier, had appeared on the Russell Harty show (this was before I met him).  On the show Russell Harty had an apple placed on a napkin on the palm of his hand, this was then split in two by Mike with a Japanese katana (sword).  Incidentally and I may have this wrong, it had been suggested that Russell have the apple on his head which he declined.

 

My idea was that the event would start with Japanese flute music with the audience in a semi dark room, Mike, the martial artist would be kneeling on the floor (no one would know who or what he was or going to do).  At the appropriate moment the Open College Manager, Iain, would stand up apple in hand and it would be split in two, then the programme co-ordinator would say “training makes all the difference”.  The idea being if you don’t train you are not in control.  Iain thought this a wonderful idea however after having an initial look at the costs he couldn’t manage it within his budget. Then he had the idea that I could make a similar point with Karate.  After some considerable thought I came up with a plan, similar to the original, instead of a sword and apple there would be a piece of wood, a chin and a fist.  This seminar, like the first, was being held at the Sheraton Hotel in Edinburgh so I didn’t want to make any mistakes in front of a prestigious audience in a prestigious place.  The idea seemed so much better when it was someone else who was under the spotlight.

 

The plan was simple, the Japanese music would play, I would kneel on the stage with my Karate Gi (suit) on, wearing a tracksuit jacket to cover the Gi. At the appropriate time I would whilst remaining kneeling remove the tracksuit jacket, Iain would walk up on the stage, hold out the piece of wood which I would shatter with a punch whilst Kiaing (pronounced Kee-ai-ing which is a spirit shout from the abdomen).  I would then perform a lunge punch (where you lunge\step forward) which would stop on Iain’s chin, kiaing again).  It was a great plan.  The night before the seminar I was helping Iain check things out on the stage when I realised, we hadn’t practised what we were going to do.  I wasn’t concerned about my part and all Iain had to do was hold the wood, however I thought we should run through it once just to be sure, the old adage “never assume” was never more appropriate.  Iain held the wood I punched, and my fist bounced of the wood which was rather painful.  It was then that I realised that it was always experienced karate people who normally held the wood, there is nothing special about holding the wood, except that the wood must be held still, locked in place, and not move when the punch or whatever technique is performed.  Iain had been holding the wood but not so that it wouldn’t move so that when I punched, the wood moved, instead of my fist going through the wood it bounced damaging my knuckle. I immediately realised my mistake and showed Iain how to hold the wood which he did, and I broke it without any difficulty.  The damage was done however, as the night progressed one of my knuckles on my right hand became quite painful and swollen.  Whilst I was sitting chatting to Iain outwardly calm (I hoped), inwardly I was panicking.  I am right-handed, of course I could break the wood with my left fist, however I knew that I would be feeling some pressure when it came to performing in front of the audience and under these circumstances, I felt much more comfortable with my right fist.

 

The next morning people started arriving for the seminar, I had my business suit on to start with for the morning coffee before the seminar started properly, all the time feeling my hand throb, my knuckle the size of a small egg.  The time came to get changed, I stood behind the stage unseen until everyone was seated, then I quickly and quietly entered the stage and kneeled in a meditational pose trying to calm my mind and decide which fist to use.  I could hear the people in the darkened auditorium whispering as they waited for the seminar to start, the flute music started adding atmosphere to the proceedings.  The time came and I slipped of my tracksuit top, pristine white Karate Gi virtually gleaming in the semi dark.  Iain walked on to the stage and as he raised the wood and I bowed, hands on the floor, I stood up thinking, I’m using my right hand, either the wood or my fist will break, one or the other. As I rose from kneeling, in one fluid movement I smashed the wood as I kiaied.  Everyone paid close attention once they got over the initial shock of my shout.  The next punch landed on Iain’s chin, stopping where it was meant to, the seminar co-ordinator right on time said, “Training makes all the difference!”

About six months later I was visiting a client in West Calder when a person who I didn’t know stopped me and said, “You were that Karate guy at the seminar!”

 

Years later when I had my Karate Club in East Calder, I was asked by one of the local schools (my old High School) to do a Karate Demonstration at a School sports night, this was a night where pupils could wander round and have a look at stands from different sports, I think the event was organised by the Parents, Teacher association.  This was the second year I had been invited, the previous year I couldn’t attend because I was on holiday.

 

I asked for volunteers, a number of Junior students were happy to come along plus one senior student, Alan, who was probably about 6 foot 3 inches, significantly taller than me at 5 foot 10 and a half inches.  The demonstration took place on the school stage, we had to do two short demonstrations, all went well until I asked Alan to stand whilst I demonstrated some techniques against him.  You have to understand that with the best will in the world one always likes to look good and impress those watching, BIG MISTAKE!  Alan stood still and I demonstrated, it came to the time I was going to demonstrate Round House kick, I admit I am not the most flexible with my legs however the bright lights and the small audience got the better of me.  I asked Alan in a stage whisper to cover the side of his face and I then launched my kick, launch being the operative word. I remember kicking and as I swivelled my body, the kick already in motion, my supporting leg left the ground, I went up and then down with an almighty crash causing my audience to pay attention.  I got up with a smile on my face and made what I hope was a humorous quip, then performed the kick again properly.  I don’t know if I was distracted or whether I slipped on moisture on the stage, what I did know was that I had an almighty bruise both on my knee and my hand where I hit the stage, it was a salutary lesson in being focussed and not showing off.  The rest of the demonstration went well.

 

Karate

 My early Karate days (I am in the middle at the back) and my first competition.

Karate

Ever since I had first seen something resembling the martial arts on television as a boy, I knew I wanted to learn them.  I should say that school life was never easy for from Primary 5 or 6 I became the target of bullies.  It wasn’t that I was a small weak person, far from it, I guess I just wasn’t much of a fighter.  Years later as a Karate Coach I was able to talk to parents who worried about their children at school, and I was also able to talk to the children who trained in my class.  Hopefully I was able to help those who were bullied and perhaps give potential bullies some food for thought when they came to learn Karate with me.  The bad news for parents is that karate doesn’t change the timid person into an aggressive person, at least not in my experience.  What it does do hopefully is help handle situations better and of course aid confidence when one learns that it is possible to defend oneself without being big or having “big” muscles!  I mention this only as a background, I did not start in Karate because I was bullied, the whole thing just fascinated me and to be perfectly honest the martial arts still fascinate me as much now as it did then.  When I first started training, I was 20 years old, Karate clubs or any Martial arts clubs were very few especially living in rural areas.  After some research I heard of a club in Uphall which adjoins Broxburn in West Lothian.  I didn’t want to go on my own, so I discovered that my sister Isabel’s boyfriend at that time, Sam, was interested too.  We went along to the pub where the class was held in the lounge bar twice a week, it was an adult class, very few if any children trained in these days.  We were allowed to watch, I paid particular attention to the exercises thinking I didn’t want to make a fool of myself when I finally went to train properly.  After the class finished Sam and I spoke to the instructor and told him we would be along to train regularly.  I went home and religiously did the exercises I had seen, even sticking my feet under my bed for the stomach exercises until I could do them without support.

 

The big night duly arrived, and Sam and I lined up at the back of the class and then I discovered what that even for all my preparation I was still unprepared, my instructor doubled all the exercises and I had decided that I was going to do them all.  Well, I had to leave the class and run to the toilet where I was promptly sick, totally different being sick through exercise than any other sickness.  I forced myself back and finished the class.  I loved the training however looking back and having trained in other classes, in other styles of Karate, with other Instructors I recognise now that this, with my first instructor, was a dangerous type of coaching and would not be allowed today by the regulatory authority.  The club was not licensed, however that was not important to me at the time.

 

Sam gave up eventually by which time I had become integrated in the club. I was always better with my hands as flexibility with my legs was something I had to work on. 

 

It was shortly after Sam left that our coach organised a weekend camp, staying in tents in a field near a river in Broxburn.  I had just recently purchased my first Karate suit which was a pristine white. During the camp weekend we were crawling through fields which had their share of Cow droppings and we also spent time training in water in the nearby river.  At the end of our first day, I stripped of my wet and dirty Karate suit and got changed for eating and sitting around the campfire.  After good night’s sleep I awoke to find my Karate Suit standing where I had left it. The jacket and trousers standing stiff on their own just looked so funny and strange, it was as if they had a life of their own.

 

After our normal training sessions some of us used to stay behind and do some extra training when the class finished.  One night another person, Jock, practised with me. We faced each other and practised kicks.  Jock protectively covered his groin, at which (having trained longer than him) I told him he had nothing to worry about.  He then relaxed and I practised a very poor side kick which caught him in the groin and had him jump in the air then roll on the floor clutching his vitals.  Frankly I couldn’t stop laughing because it is always funny when you are not the one doing the rolling about! Jock was great though once he recovered, he eventually laughed too, much to my relief.  One major lesson is that you can’t play with fire and not expect to get burned occasionally.  As a coach though you take every precaution to avoid accidents, Karate is a serious sport, but it still provides great fun and adventure. People believe when you achieve your Dan grade (black belt) that is it, you’ve reached that exalted goal! Not so I am afraid, Dan means level, therefore 1st Dan means first level, when you have the tools to start.