Lowest Ebb On Release From The Keele Health Centre: Occupation Of The Registry & Eurythmics, Late February 1983

A picture of a Keele Registry occupation, but probably 1970s, not “ours”, borrowed from the Keele Oral History Project.

The diary suggests that I was feeling really low and still poorly during those first few days out of the Health Centre. The short-term improvement of mood arising from my release soon morphed into realisation that there was a longish haul to recovery of my normal energy levels and high spirits.

The interesting day that week was the Wednesday, when I found myself at the occupation of the University Registry by day and at a Eurythmics concert in the Union by night.

Avid readers of this Keele series on Ogblog might recall that, in the previous November, the Keel Action Group, fronted by me of all people, got a resolution through a UGM to mandate an occupation.

That mandate was more than somewhat against the will of the Union Committee, under Truda Smith, who wanted to do something else (or possibly nothing at all) about the grant cuts.

I don’t think we mandated the Registry as the building to be occupied and I certainly was not involved in the planning of the event. I was persona non grata with Truda and her hench-folk by that time and in any case I was sick with glandular fever when the event bubbled to a head.

Dr David Cohen, a larger than life character recognisable for sporting large bow ties, had, only the previous term, switched from being the Senior Tutor (latterly referred to as Director of Studies) to being Registrar.

David Cohen 1960s COPYRIGHT KEELE UNIVERSITY – picture borrowed from a tribute to David which can be viewed through this link

I don’t suppose he was overjoyed at having the Registry occupied so early in his tenure. It was nothing personal – the Registry seemed to be the obvious place to occupy for such matters – partly because it was the centre of University bureaucracy and partly because it was centrally located on the campus and easy to occupy given its strange mix of formal construction and strung-together prefabricated Nissen hut-like structures.

I recall David being very suspicious of me when I became a Union sabbatical – I suspect he thought I was rabidly radical. But we found ways of working together quite quickly; he was open-minded enough to change his mind about people if the evidence was there for such a change. I was sorry to learn that he died in 2022, just shy of 40 years after the “historic” occupation of his office..

Frankly, 48 hours after my release form the Health Centre I wasn’t really up for it. I felt that I should show my face but probably looked like the ghost of occupations past; I had lost lots of weight (from a fairly skinny start) with my illness and I suspect that my skin colour was more yellow/green than ruddy/pink.

All I really remember was hating how I felt in that cramped, poorly ventilated space and sensing that pretty much everyone realised that I shouldn’t really be there, so I didn’t stay all that long.

I collaborated with Dall-E to produce the following artists’ impression of the event.

Not bad, Dall-E, but this lot look a bit better dressed than 1980s Keele students

The Eurythmics concert in the Union was a big deal for my girlfriend, Liza O’Connor. She was into synthesizer-based music and Eurythmics was one of the groups that everyone in the art school world was talking about.

Photo by Elmar J. Lordemann, CC BY-SA 2.0 DE
This is how Eurythmics looked in 1987 – not much different from their 1983 look

Indeed, the SU had timed their booking of Eurythmics to perfection. Their first hit, Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This, had come out a few weeks earlier and was climbing the pop charts at a rapid rate. Liza was really excited about the prospect of this gig and we deemed it to be our postponed Valentine’s Night.

However, the sweet success of Sweet Dreams also brought with it some logistical issues. If I remember correctly, Eurythmics had been called at the last minute to record a video or performance of the song or something, on the very day of our gig. The result was a very late concert indeed. I think the warm up act did their thing and then went home and we the audience were kept waiting a long time for Eurythmics.

I seem to recall Liza really liking the gig, but I was half-dead on my feet by the time Eurythmics showed up. I think it was quite a short set, book-ended by Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This. I remember being grateful for the brevity and not really enjoying the show, which is a shame.

Latterly I saw a lot of Annie Lennox; she was a regular at my health club in the 1990s and early 2000s and thus we became nodding acquaintances, even “hi and bye” folk in the neighbourhood.

I wish I’d seen her perform on a more suitable night.

Picture by Helge Øverås, CC BY-SA 4.0

I should imagine I slept well after that tiring day but I doubt if I had sweet dreams while in that glum mood. I don’t suppose I was good company for Liza when I was that gloomy and poorly, which might explain why she left me alone until the Sunday. On that day, the diary says that she came over for the evening and that we went to see Ashley [Fletcher] after.

I’m glad Ashley gets a mention in the diary that week. I have recently (forty years on) corresponded with him, not least about aspects of this period. Ashley complained that there aren’t enough pieces about him. Actually, for aficionados of Ashley Fletcher stories, e.g. Ashley, that will be rectified in the next episode.

Isolation, “Socially-Distant” Visits, Steroids, Peculiar Reading Matter & Strange Happenings: A Week In The Keele Health Centre With Glandular Fever, Mid February 1983

Annalisa (right) & Others, Keele Campus Store, c1985, with thanks to Mark Ellicott

I hadn’t had flu. I didn’t get better after being sent home from the Health Centre with some tablets. I got worse.

Saturday 12 February 1983 – Variable health – Liza [O’Connor] shopped for me – Annalisa [de Mercur] visited. Early night.

Reading that passage, plus some of the subsequent ones during my illness, I am reminded that I had several kind people in my circle, in addition to the attentiveness of my girlfriend Liza, who I particularly remember as having been considerate during my extended indisposition.

Sunday 13 February 1983 – Felt bit better this morn/afternoon. Evening came over all ill. Early night.

Monday 14 February 1983 – Schlepped straight back to [Health Centre] HC – pretty ill. Liza visited in evening.

I don’t think that was in line with the plans Liza and I had laid for Valentines Night. I was mightily hacked off as well as ill.

I have collaborated with Dall-E to create this virtual-artist’s impression of me looking ill and hacked off in the Keele Health Centre.

Dr Scott now suspected that I had infectious mononucleosis, also known as glandular fever. His suspicion was soon confirmed with a blood test.

Glandular fever was sort-of the 1980s equivalent of Covid 19 – it was not as well understood then as it is now. The medics were very fearful of epidemics amongst student populations, for some unknown reason. It was also known colloquially as French-kissing disease, although I’m sure there were other ways of getting it and no doubt French people knew of it colloquially as the English-something-or-other.

One side effect of that illness is to make the patient feel low, to the point of feeling depressed. I have to say that my only ever experience of feeling what I might describe as “depressed” was when I had glandular fever.

Tuesday 15 February 1983 – Still pretty ill today – bored and depressed – won’t let have visitors.

Didn’t they know who I am?

I was not a good candidate for isolation. Nor was I a good candidate for some of the clinical interventions required, such as blood tests and injections. Dr Scott – Scotty – was sympathetic yet firm. But there was one matron/nurse I particularly remember as being dragon-like, whose method was more of the cruel-kindness variety.

“If you don’t stop making a fuss, I’ll go and get my long rusty needle and use that on you instead”.

Who’d imagine such inhumane words in such a benevolent setting?
Picture “borrowed” with thanks from the Keele University website

Note to students of psychology: that sort of shock therapy doesn’t work on trypanophobic people – at least it didn’t work on me.

Scotty at that time had a “kill or cure” therapy for glandular fever – a short sharp (high dose at first but rapidly decreasing) course of steroids. His theory was that it helped most people to get better quickly enough that their studies needn’t be deferred, whereas without his treatment many students ended up deferring their exams – in effect taking a year out of their studies, which I certainly didn’t want to do. For some people, the cure made their symptoms worse, but “kill” is too strong a term, as the drugs were only given under health centre supervision and would be stopped/reversed if serious adverse effects came into play.

The steroids worked on me without any serious side-effects, although they did have a strange effect on my being, which I’ll return to explain a bit later.

Wednesday 16 February 1983 – Moved into a room with James – got visitors today – Liza and Michelle [Epstein] – feel somewhat better.

Thursday 17 February 1983 – Several visitors today inc. Liza – feeling much better today – fair bit bored still.

James was a rather strange fellow. He was not merely depressed about having glandular fever and being isolated in the health centre with me. He absolutely hated Keele. He had a girlfriend who also absolutely hated Keele. Together, they had found a way of making their University life tolerable – basically by going away from Keele together every weekend – primarily to visit historic churches, if I remember correctly.

e.g. St Peter’s Church, Wormleighton, Warwickshire

“Got visitors” was a rather strange, socially-distanced thing while I was in this isolation wing with James. The visitors were not allowed into the health centre to visit us – they could stand at a window outside our room and we could talk to them through that window. I vaguely remember that there was an element of elevation to our room, with an inadequate mound upon which our visitors might stand. Thus it was harder for me to chat with vertically-challenged visitors, such as Annalisa, than it was to speak with the more vertically-assured, such as my lanky (in several senses of the term) flatmate, Alan Gorman.

James’s only visitor was his young-lady-friend, who would join him for a mutual moan about once a day. Their shared beef was that they would be unable to escape the Keele campus together at the weekend and visit churches again until James was better.

My visitors were more numerous (several daily) and a more diverse bunch.

Friday 18 February 1983 – Still bedridden – feel much better – getting a fair bit agitated. Liza and others visited today.

I’m not sure which of the “multiple visitors” days included Ashley Fletcher, but I do remember him bringing with him some reading matter for me – I suppose technically he smuggled it in to me by throwing the reading materials to me, where I caught them at the window. It was either Miriam or Heather who was, through Ashley, lending me the booklets in an attempt to help relieve my boredom. The booklets were basically lesbian porn story magazines.

I’m not sure I was ever qualified to offer lit-crit of that reading matter…nor lit-clit come to think of it. Forty years later, the memory is dim, but I did read a few of the stories which were, to my mind, very predictable tales with almost identical plot lines. An unlikely encounter would suddenly, “unexpectedly” result in a shared realisation followed by an almost identical outcome – **SPOILER ALERT** – a sex romp. Sometimes it was two females, sometimes two females and a man, sometimes several people with a focus on the females. I suspected that the same stories were probably gender-reassigned for other similar publications targeted at other groups, with some “characters” (characterisation was in truth almost entirely absent) simply having the name, gender and some small aspects of their dénouement activity changed.

The reading material was absolutely nothing like this wonderful novel

I do remember trying to discuss with my sole companion in isolation, the church-loving James, how peculiar and dull, rather than exciting, I found these story books. But James was simply horrified and disgusted by the presence of these booklets in our room.

Still, I was really touched by the thought and the effort that Ashley and the lenders of the material put in to try to cheer me up and help alleviate my boredom. I do remember Liza finding the whole episode hilarious.

Meanwhile, my use of the word “agitated” might well have been written to remind me of the peculiar effect the steroids had on me. I think that effect might have come to its peak the next day, by which time I think James had been released.

Saturday 19 February 1983 – Let me get up for first time today. Sat in lounge – very exciting. Liza visited.

Dragon Matron – yes she of the long rusty needle threat- came in to my room. I remember suddenly feeling a hot flush and thinking, “she’s not actually that bad looking”…

…the outcome was extremely swift, hands-free, involuntary and I am pretty sure indiscernible to anyone other than me. But it was a seriously weird feeling.

I have asked my friend, Dall-E, to help me to illustrate the scene:

Nothing to see here

In truth the care team in the Health Centre were very kind and really were trying their best to make our lot tolerable.

That Saturday evening, when they let me sit in the lounge, I remember that they had identified another student, a Spanish guy who was, I think, called Miguel (I knew him through Rana Sen and that lot), who knew me. So they arranged for us to watch TV and have a juice together in the lounge, before they served us dinner together restaurant style. It really did feel like a release from isolation by then, although in truth Miguel and I didn’t know each other all that well and mostly discussed how nice it was of the staff to be making that effort for us.

The Tv programme we watched together was Dynasty, which I had never seen before nor have I seen it since. I thought it was incredible – by which I mean that I could not really suspend my disbelief to engage with the programme. I think Miguel quite liked it.

Sunday 20 February 1983 – Let me out for a walk or two today. Very exciting.

Monday 21 February 1983 – Discharged from HC today – got busy laundry etc. Liza came over in evening…

In my impressionistic memory I was isolated in the Heath Centre for ages. Intolerable ages. It came as a bit of a surprise to work out, from my diaries, that a week was all it took to be “intolerable ages” when I was 20 years old.

A Week When Everything At Keele Made Me Feel Sick, Even Smoke-Filled Rooms & Students Union Politics, 6 to 11 February 1983

Picture “borrowed” with thanks from the Keele University website

The following diary entry is the first clue that something was wrong:

Sunday 6 February 1983: Rough night – felt ill in morn. & all day – wrote essay in eve nonetheless

It didn’t get better – for the next couple of days my ill health was the only topic in my diary. I have hardly any photos from that era, let alone “lolling around feeling poorly” ones, so I commissioned Dall-E to reimagine the scene:

Monday 7 February 1983 – Pretty ill today. Stayed away from classes – early night – not well.

Tuesday 8 February 1983 – Pretty ill still – went to Health Centre – put on tablets. Came home – stayed in – early night – quite ill.

Actually I have very powerful memories of that 8 February 1983 evening. Everyone else in the flat went out or did their own thing. I stayed home and watched the movie The Harder They Come on Channel 4. I remember thinking it was a fabulous movie, despite the fact I felt so ill. Forty years on, it is available on-line so anyone can watch it. The music is awesome if you like ska and reggae.

The other thing I especially remember about that evening is that I persevered with smoking even though my throat was incredibly sore.

By that stage of my short tobacco smoking career, which had started in 1979 in Mauritus…

…my choice of smoke had degenerated from cigarillos on a beach in Mauritius, via conventional cigarettes for a couple of years, to low cost roll-ups:

SirGrok at English Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 2.5

Anyway, I soon had time on my hands in the Health Centre to reflect on the stupidity of this practice. Hence I know that I smoked my last cigarette of tobacco while watching that movie that evening.

Interesting also that the TV listings tell me that the movie finished just before 23:00 – after which I would have gone to bed. At that time, this met the definition of an “early night”.

Wednesday 9 February 1983 – Came into Health Centre – pretty ill today. Don’t like it here much.

Thursday 10 February 1983 – Feeling bit better today – let up in evening into lounge etc.

More reflections on the Health Centre next time – my early release was premature

Not sure if I blagged my way out or whether they desperately needed the beds or what – but I was released with suspected flu and instructed to recuperate at my flat. I had at least resolved to quit smoking for good, which, with the benefit of hindsight, was an excellent longer-term health outcome.

From Smoke-Free Resolve To A Smoke-Filled Room: An Election Appeal

Friday 11 February – Came out of Health Centre – not at all well. Being sick all day. Went election appeals in eve – came home to bed.

I remember this business very clearly. As a member of Constitutional Committee I was ex officio a member of the Election Appeals Committee. I have mentioned in previous Ogblog articles the shenanigans that went on the previous year surrounding Truda Smith’s election as President…

…anyway, this season the shenaniganistas were at it again. I think this problematic election was that of Vivian Robinson, who was active in Labour Club and therefore “within the sights” of the Conservative crew who were keen to disrupt elections by deliberately breaking the rules and then trying to have the election annulled if they didn’t like the result because rules had been broken. These Machiavellian types probably thought that their techniques would enable them to run the country this way in future decades, given half a chance…oh crikey!

Anyway, there was I lolling around in my flat, looking like a Dall-E reimagining of a sick 1980s student, trying not to throw up all the time…

…when Gennaro Castaldo, the SU Secretary at that time, arrived at my flat. Gennaro was one of the good guys – I guess he probably still is. He had heard that I’d been ill and was hugely apologetic…while also being emphatic…he pretty much pleaded with me to come to the Election Appeals Meeting. Gennaro sensed that it was going to be a bare-knuckle tussle and was keen to have all of the voting panellists there.

Gennaro 40 years on, borrowed from his Twitter feed.

It was hard to say no to Gennaro in such circumstances – probably almost any circumstances, if he put his mind to being persuasive.

I remember telling Gennaro that I’d been throwing up all day and wasn’t sure I could get through a heated meeting without upchucking. My “humourist reflecting back ” self today reckons that a full-blooded chunder at some point in that meeting might have been the most apposite comment of the evening.

I have asked Dall-E to try recreating the smoke-filled room that was the SU President’s office at that election appeal.

It was more unruly-looking than this, but not bad for 21st Century AI envisaging the 1980s

Chris Boden, who I think was also a member of our panel, was the main voice of the (if not the actual) complainant. I have no recollection what the actual detail of the complaint was – only that it was pretty clear to me that the whole exercise was a stunt to disrupt the students union rather than a genuine uncovering of sharp practice by or on behalf of a candidate which should result in the election being overturned.

I recall that Gennaro had kindly/sensibly placed me near the door so I could make a break for it if I felt the need to throw up. I also remember the room being very smoky indeed, which was not good news for my still agonisingly sore throat.

I also very clearly recall that, at one point, when Chris Boden was trying to set out his complaint that “someone” had broken the election rules, Vincent Beasley jumped to his feet, pointed at Chris Boden and yelled “J’Accuse” at the top of his voice. At that point, I thought I might need to bolt out of the room to throw up, but I just about managed to contain myself.

Lovers of justice everywhere will be delighted to learn that the election appeal was dismissed and the election rightfully confirmed.

But my personal struggle with infection and the Health Centre was far from over, as you’ll learn next time.

From Ken Livingstone To Celebrating The Chinese Year Of The Pig Via Airplane II At Keele, 20 January To 5 February 1983

This picture of Ken from ODPM in 2005.

Thursday 20 January 1983 …went to see Ken Livingstone in evening – great.

I remember that evening pretty well. I am fairly sure I went with Simon Jacobs, Jon Gorvett and other friends to that event. It was pretty popular – I think it was held in the FY lecture theatre – if not one of the other large lecture theatres.

Ken Livingstone was the head of the Greater London Council (GLC) at that time. There was talk of him running for parliament that year but he didn’t do so; perhaps he was too busy talking to student bodies like ours to get his selection application in on time.

I seem to recall that his most memorable rhetoric was about the Northern Ireland troubles and his advocacy of a unilateral “Troops Out” policy. But he spoke about most of the core left wing topics of the day and was very convincing, both as a speaker and (unusually for a political visitor) directly addressing questions put to him afterwards.

Nearly 30 years later, I actually got to chat convivially with Ken Livingstone at a party “down his way”.

While Ken always had contrarian views and courted controversy, personally I was surprised when his statements went off the scale and led to his suspension from the Labour party a few years after that.

Returning to 1983…

Diary suggests a pretty lazy weekend, mostly spent with Liza O’Connor although we did go to Anju Sanehi’s party on the Saturday evening.

Airplane II – Surely I Must Be Joking? (I’m Not Joking And…)

There’s not much worthy of report until we get to the next weekend. Allow me to translate the relevant bit of Saturday’s entry:

…went with Liza and mum to see Airplane II…

I had never previously been out on a date with a girlfriend’s mother also in tow. A very unusual situation for a Keele student in term time, but I had chosen to go out with the Keele village pub landlord’s daughter.

I don’t think there was a repeat of this type of event with Liza. I got on fine with Liza’s mum, but perhaps the matter of dates was better left à deux.

I don’t think I again experienced the “girlfriend’s mother with us on a date” phenomenon again for more than 10 years, after which the presence of Janie’s mum became an occasional feature for a while. But that was to be “The Real Thing”.

Returning to 1983, this particular movie, Airplane II: The Sequel didn’t help. I had seen Airplane! and thought it very funny. Neither Liza nor her mum had seen the original movie but had learned of its reputation and therefore wanted to see the sequel.

My problem with the sequel was that, to me, it is simply a rehashing of the same jokes again in an even sillier scenario – stretching implausibility beyond the limits even of a cornball comedy.

In short, Liza and her mum were laughing like drains and I was not laughing much, while mostly thinking “this is drains” and “looks like I picked the wrong weekend to quit inhaling nitrous oxide”:

Still, Liza, her mum and I came out the other side of that evening.

5 February 1983 – “Chinese Cultural Society Do”, Presumably To Hail In The Year Of the Pig

After another fairly mundane week, the following weekend saw me and Liza at a Chinese Cultural Society event, which I think was a New Year’s celebration held a week or so early (probably because there were myriad events the following weekend for Valentines).

I have described in a previous piece the “joint venture” Tony Wong and I conceived to enhance the Jewish Society and the Chinese Cultural Society by partnering.

I have hardly any pictures from that era, so I commissioned DALL_E to help me try to illustrate this event.

Hmm, this one might equally well be an outdoor version of the earlier Ken Livingstone apparatchik gathering

I don’t think such events could look quite as authentically Chinese as this at Keele

Perhaps best remembered cartoon style

Joking apart, I do remember that the Chinese Cultural Society always put on a good party.

The day after that “do”, however, my term and indeed the next few months took an unexpected and unwanted turn, which I shall cover next time.