|
George Spenceley recalls his years as a long distance lorry driver, the friends he made and the incidents that happened along the way.
It had been my ambition for a long time to work for Shell Mex & B.P. It was a company that respected their staff and after training, the drivers were trusted to get on with the minimum of supervision.
At that time many of the garage owners paid for their petrol as it was delivered, this meant that the driver often carried a great amount of money, which he handed in to the terminal cashier when he returned to the site.
Some five years later when I was working as a driver for Shell Mex & B.P. and I started to experience some chest pains whilst at work. I'd been working long hours and it was obviously telling on me. I put up with it for a while and then confided in Tommy, my work mate. He suggested that I should see the doctor and have a check up.
I was afraid I might lose my job. I told Doreen about it and went along to see the doctor, he checked my heart and came to the conclusion it was 'over pacing' due to overwork. He advised me to rest for three weeks, gave me a prescription for some tablets and handed me a sick note, he'd see me again after that.
After three weeks rest I still felt the same, the doctor agreed after a little persuasion that it would be as well for me to go back to work instead of worrying at home but said I must cut down on the overtime and keep on light duties for a while.
But on the Sunday night before I'd returned to work I took ill, I was sweating profusely and had pains in my arm and chest, Doreen sent for the doctor and I was whisked off to hospital and landed in the intensive care ward.
A couple of days later I was transferred to Poole Sanatorium for rest and this turned out to be one of the most frightening time of my life. I was placed in a terminal ward and most of the patients were dying of cancer or chest complaints.
Almost every day someone died. A seventeen year old lad walked passed my room with his Mam and Dad one day, they were chatting away but within four days he was dead. I wondered what it was all about?
The nursing staff would only say to me that I should count myself lucky and accept my illness as a warning, everyone doesn't get a second chance. I spent about six weeks in that place then asked if I could go home to rest with my family.
It was six months before I was allowed to return to work. Having now had heart trouble I realised that if I became ill again my employment would be on the line, I decided not to wait for that to happen but to take my family out of the rat race.
George Spenceley, 2002
| |
