There are lots of things that make my day. Being able to breathe is one of them. I had to call for the emergency services because I was finding it difficult to breathe. I'm a closet asthmatic - I have asthma attacks so rarely that if the makers of Ventolin had to rely on people like me their business would collapse. Usually cigarette smoke is the trigger, and chucking smokers out into the street (what constitutes a 'public place' in the eyes of the law, for God's sake?) has at least had the benefit of making me carry my medication with me at all times, rather than on a hit and miss basis. But when I did call for an ambulance, doing my obscene caller heavy breathing act down the phone to 'control', the guys turned up very quickly (the FRU was there in two minutes!) and stuck me on a nebuliser and took me to hospital where I the most uncomfortable thing I had to put up with was the electronic BP machine. The problem is, since reading your excellent book at least twice, I feel very guilty about calling the ambulance service. (So to the Oxfordshire Ambulance Service - especially those based at the JR - who were kindness itself and reassured me that they'd far rather deal with me breathing than not, many thanks, guys!) And then I think about the stuff you all have to put up with. And then I think, all those who use the ambulance service as a taxi service, all those who are out of their skulls on drink or drugs, should be chained to a chair and given a copy of your book to read. Would it make any difference, do you think? Sadly, perhaps not.