Blimey!


Sometimes things, life, sneak up on you and go 'BOO!' in your ear. Well it's happened twice to me this week. On Tuesday I had a phone call from a client I've know for about fifteen years asking if he could pop in and see me because he had a couple of things to talk about.

Dave runs a small business that imports ironmongery from China and sells it to the wholesale trade. His business is as successful as he wants it to be, it provides a good standard of living for him, his wife and his two married daughters, as well as for a Salesman. He was diagnosed with bowel cancer about six years ago but overcame it and was able to achieve a lifetime's ambition of visiting one of his children in Australia. Anyway back to this week, our conversation began in the usual manner, exchanging pleasantries, how's business, that sort of thing before he dropped a bombshell.

"I wanted to see you because I've only got a couple of weeks to live or six months tops."

What can you say to that? Well I said the only two things I could think of "How and why?"

"I've got a tumor on one of my kidneys, I'm not in any pain. The other one isn't strong enough to keep going on its own. I went into Southampton a couple of weeks ago but when they got me down to theatre the surgeon decided if they operated on me there and then I'd die whilst under the anaesthetic. If they operate in a fortnight the chances of survival are about 80/20 against, if they don't operate I'll be dead in six months. I don't know what's for the best."

I thought back to Easter 2004, Karon and me being asked by the Surgeon if we wanted to operate on Nigel which might save his life or let him die whilst connected to half a dozen machines.

"It's no contest Dave," I said, "If you can live for six months without pain why die in a fortnight?"

"I know," he replied, "seems stupid even thinking about it."

The rest of our twenty minute meeting was one of those 'what do I say?' moments, any talk about the future of business seemed slightly indecent if you know what I mean. Anyway, we discussed the future of his wife and two daughters and their share in the business and how the eldest daughter doesn't really understand VAT so could I give her some help. It was what is sometimes referred to as a 'putting things in order' meeting. And then he stood to leave and I wasn't sure how to react, anything I said referring to his operation would seem inappropriate, so I simply said, "Don't worry Dave, everything will be taken care of." Which upon reflection seems far too philosophical for an accountant.

Anyway, Wednesday arrives and another client calls in. This client is called Paul and he runs a tropical fish shop in Wiltshire. Paul used to be in the Army and he has the stature and bearing of somebody who was in the Guards - or rather he did. I couldn't believe how much he had changed in the last nine months or so since I saw him. He has to walk with the help of a stick, he can't grip things properly and he has problems with concentration. He told me that it's all to do with a muscle wasting disease, he's only in his early forties and he looks like an old man. Given his background and the problems he is having now I think conspiracy theorists would be pointing at him and saying his illness is related to Gulf War Syndrome. He had left the army three years ago to do something that didn't involve too much travelling, without sounding dramatic it won't be too long before travelling under his own steam isn't an option.

Like any profession you can't get emotionally involved with the client or their problems that don't involve accountancy or tax issues, but sometimes you know you would be less of a person if you weren't moved by the plight of others.