The bird and the B

Now it is rare for two wonderful things to happen in one week. Last week was one of those weeks.

Last Monday I kissed Sarah goodbye and had an early night. Up with the lark, to Stockport railway station to catch the 7.24 to London. Time for a nice cup of coffee and before long you're in Euston. Except not today. Today Milton Keynes decides to blow a fuse. The signals have broken down. There will be no trains running along the west coast line. To get to London we have to catch the train to Sheffield (for goodness sake) then on to London.

Sarah is wonderful. We met a few weeks ago to discuss how the Primary Care Trust should prepare for the role out of a new drug for heart conditions. She is the pharmaceutical adviser, is beautiful and intelligent, and until recently, single.

7.30 on Stockport station is a pretty dismal place. One option is to go home, of course, but the Cardiac Network has already invested a lot in my train ticket, so I'm going to have to go for it. Besides they've sent a poster of the Heart Failure project I've been leading. We're going to the National Heart Improvement Conference 2010, and it's a sort of celebration of the ten years since the publication of the Cardiac National Service Framework. Everyone will be there including the Cardiac Czar and all the Who's who of the Heart world.

I'm sooo tired but eventually we get to London. Taxi to the hotel and then dinner. There are several from the Greater Manchester network, and luckily they've brought three of their patient representatives. These 'reps' have been down rather longer than the rest of us. They came down the night before, so by the time we meet up for dinner they are in good cheer. One of them is aware of my recent run-in with a local teaching hospital over stroke services, and so I am warmly greeted. Suddenly I notice that the three of them and me are the only men there. We need two taxis to get to the restaurant. The ladies get in the first one and the men follow in a second taxi. They are pretty well informed and we agree, in the safety of an anonymous cab, that arrangement of Cardiac services in Manchester is a complete mess. Really there should be one great big Centre instead of two squabbling ones. Dinner is Mexican, chili con carne and plenty of San Miguel. A whisky night cap with my new friends is inescapable, and then to bed. The 'reps' continue their networking.

Wednesday is the day of the conference. There must be five hundred people there or more. Two key note speeches by the NHS elite, including Roger B himself, then a break. In the coffee area are the posters. I decide I'd better have a look at them and find ours.

There, to my surprise and delight is a beaming picture of me. Along side me is an explanation of the project and two graphs showing the brilliant, if statistically not yet significant, outcome so far. 'Hi, Ivan' shouts over a man I barely recognise. Oh yes, he's the doctor from Hastings that sort of co-ordinated the Heart Failure projects. He comes over. 'Thought I'd let you know. I'm using you're slide in my talk later'. 'Er great, great thanks' I reply. 'Thanks, that'll be err great'. Several other people congratulate me on the poster, and some wonder if the picture has been airbrushed. Well no, but it was taken five years ago and I've had major facial surgery since then after my ski accident.

Back to the conference and my man from Hastings is giving his talk. He's presenting a flavour of the different heart failure project over the last ten years. Yes, and there is my slide, well our slide. How cool is that? A mention at a National meeting. Brilliant. I don't really hear much of the rest of the talk as so chuffed with the mention.

At the end there's a prize to be handed out to the best projects, then lunch. I am getting a bit hungry actually. Roger B is on the stand and Mark D is reading out the winners name. 'For the category of best contribution to a quality service' says Mark. It's like the flaming Oscars. Come on. Get it over with.

'The winner is' pause 'Central Manchester blur blur'. 'What did he say' I turn to the person next to me. 'Is anyone here from Central Manchester?' Oh my goodness, he called my project. Did he? Yes he did. Oh my goodness. I stand up and run towards the stage. I do a fake trip for a laugh, but no laughs. Never mind. I reach the podium. Roger B hands me the winning certificate. 'Well done, good work' he says. I make to go for the microphone, but a speech is not required. Instead I lift the certificate aloft. A loud round of applause and cheers, and I head back to my seat. During my run to the stage I dropped my phone and briefly loose it, but I don't care. I am on top of the world and can hardly believe it. This is the pinacle of my career so far.

After, I get lots of congratulations. 'You've been hiding talent under a bush' says one. 'Well no not really'. 'I didn't have you down as a Heart Failure person' says another. 'Well I'm not really, I'm a GP'. Still I feel great and continue to feel great so some considerable time. Nothing can top this, or can it?

Well yes it can, and it did. And all in one week. Sarah and me are now 'in a relationship' on facebook. I should have bought a lottery ticket.