Everybody remembers 9/11 for different reasons but I remember it for a very important reason. At the time I was working as a lowly Civil Servant long after I had retired for the umpteenth time. As I left the building ( I worked 6 hours a day starting at 7am) I was informed of the first aircraft and by the time I cycled home my wife and my daughter were sat in front of the TV having witnessed the second aircraft.
My story however, began 10 days later, when out of the blue I collapsed at home and was rushed into Glenfield Hospital Leicester in a very poorly condition. I fought for three months to regain my life having survived a collapsed colon, peritonitis and septicemia. My wife tells me that there was nowhere in my body where a tube did not protrude (well within propriety!).
So when most people remember 9/11 for the correct reasons I remember it with mixed emotions. After 10 years I am still troubled by tummy problems but I have been blessed to see my granddaughters growing up. I will however, always remember that the first person that I recognised when I came out of the coma was my son who was killed last year.
It was only the skill of the surgeons that saved my life. To this day I cannot believe that I pulled through to live the life that I lead today. So forgive me if on this very memorable day I raise a glass to life itself. It is such a very personal poignant date and I make no apologies for it.