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Some of you may be old enough to remember Government sponsored TV commercials from the 60’s called Public Safety Films?

One of which contained the phrase “most accidents happen in the home”.

At 10:00 Sunday morning I went into our kitchen for a glass of water, opened the fridge door and promptly passed out.

Some minutes later, a very confused CB regained consciousness lay flat on my back and staring at the ceiling. I managed to stand, look down and realised that I had been at the centre of a very large pool of blood.

Annie was upstairs, along with daughter Ellie and boyfriend George so a rather wobbly me managed to climb the stairs, leaving an impressive trail of bloody hand prints and collapsed against the landing wall.

Oblivious of the extent of my injuries (which include an impressive cut on my right eyebrow), the resulting fuss was surprising.

15 minutes later a first response para-medic and ambulance crew were making me comfortable before driving me over to Wythenshawe Hospital. One the journey over there, we were told that both my heart rate and BP were unusually low.

I have to say that I am reminded of The Island, when every time we stood up, the dehydration and malnutrition caused dizziness and near black-out and became a part of our daily existence.

It has me wondering whether my recovery from that experience has been slower then I thought.

At the hospital I was to spend the next 8 hours taking the usual tests, including a CT scan before the lovely staple gun arrived.

I’m no hero and I’ve got to admit that being expertly fastened back together again was one of the more “ouchy” experiences of my life.

I’m very grateful to Annie, Jon, Rachel, Ellie and George who spent most of that time by my bedside, even though I was in and out of sleep. Also to the expert medics who were a credit to their profession and to the NHS throughout.

Back home last night feeling very groggy and, at the same time, dismayed by the firm instruction from the ward sister to stay at home for one week and get complete rest.

“But don’t you know I have a business to run?” seemed to fall on very stony ground (sic).

So a call to the ever-amazing Phillippa last night and some re-arranging to be done in short order this morning.

We are considering the use of Skype or Go To Meeting for as many conversations as possible. I do have a few meetings in Manchester later this week and I’ll probably be able to attend but dashing up and down the country by train looks off the agenda.

Phillippa will be all over that this morning I’m sure.

As for me, sore, groggy, frustrated and constantly thinking about the task list that I was going to hammer today, my weekly Bunker Day.

Head bandaged today, staples in for 7-10 days and a salutary reminder that I may look great for my age but I actually am my age and need to be just a little bit careful.

Further grisly photos available on request (you should see the cut before the staples, amazing).

If you read this and we are due to meet/talk this week, stay calm, we will be in contact.