It was Good Friday, 21st March 2008. I was driving my 15 year old son down to an Easter music camp in rural Victoria, so I’d booked us a motel in Wagga Wagga, on the New South Wales/Victoria border, about 450km from Sydney, so I could deliver him bright and early to the music camp on the Saturday.
The previous day, Thursday, I’d had the car serviced, and walking from the garage to my studio had been a bit tortuous. I was out of breath, had pains in my chest and felt very strange. I thought I was just unfit. At the time I was working at the computer for several hours a day, which gave me back trouble, so I’d been doing stretching exercises given to me by my osteopath. I thought the chest pains were just from overdoing the exercises. Well, that’s what I told myself. That night as I went to bed I mentioned to my wife that I was feeling odd and had these exercise-related pains in my chest. She said if you feel that way in the morning go to the doctor. But in the morning I felt OK, so off we drove. In retrospect » Continue Reading.