My wife's uncle Norman, who lived in California, suffered a stroke and was consequently paralysed down his left side. He was not able to do anything by himself and besides this he was hard of hearing and virtually blind. Norman had been a great traveller all his life and, being undaunted by his incapacities, decided to visit England for a family reunion. Because of his difficulties he asked me to accompany him on the journey. I had already visited Norman earlier in that year when he was virtually immobile but now was given to understand that he was improved and capable of getting out of bed, dressing himself and walking.

I left home for the airport half an hour later than I had intended and as I left I heard reports on the radio that the M3 motorway has heavy traffic and queues. However, by the time I got to that location the traffic had cleared but that was not the case when I reached the M25 which was moving at less than 10 miles per hour. I reached Heathrow with just enough time for a cup of coffee before check-in.

The flight was non-eventful and we arrived at Los Angeles 10 minutes early but this was offset by a tortuously slow passage through customs and immigration. They give priority to resident citizens so us visitors kept finding ourselves at the back of the queue. I has a bus to catch from the airport and the service ran every 2½ hours. As it happened I just caught it than had an interesting journey through the mountains and along the coast to Santa Barbara.

I felt pretty tired by the time I arrived at Santa Barbara so I went to the supermarket, bought a pie and some fruit and took it back to the house. By the time I had cooked the pie I could not stay awake long enough to eat it so I eat the fruit and went off to bed.

The next day, knowing that I had a pretty difficult time ahead, I spent the early part of the day on the beach where I sunbathed and had a swim. I also went into Santa Barbara where I bought some CD's and had a proper American beefburger just for the experience. I then drove out to the retreat where Norman was staying but arrived a bit early so I took a stroll through the Botanic Gardens nearby where they have every type of plant that is native to California.

I arrived at the retreat and found Norman sitting in his room finishing his dinner. The room was small and with a carpet that was heavily stained with everything imaginable despite having coverings of polythene mats. The departure was a bit haphazard as his nurse was a Bulgarian who had only been in America several days and did not speak much English. It transpired that she had been a lecturer at Sofia university but sought a new life in America. The manager did call by briefly but there was no official handover which was a bit worrying as Norman has very complex medication also I did not know his current medical condition or what sort of assistance he needed. Norman wanted out of there so we packed his bags and left but not before he decided he needed his commode which turned into a messy affair and me being treated to the sight of the former university lecturer cleaning him up. I got Norman back to his house and sat him I his favourite chair. It was becoming evident to me already that Norman's condition was not much better than when I had seen him earlier in the year however, he was adamant that he was able to cope.

We decided to eat out in a restaurant so off we went to one of his regular eating houses. They were able to accommodate the wheelchair so we went to the table but no sooner had we arrived than Norman said he needed the toilet (I had asked him just before we came out if he wanted to go !). Going for a pee involves me getting him into a cubicle, getting him stood up whilst supporting his weight, dropping his trousers and pants, getting the bottle into position and holding it. Then I have to put the bottle somewhere whilst I clean him up, get his pants and trousers back up and fastened then sat in his chair. This event was not totally successful this time as he peed down his trousers and on the floor. Later during the meal Norman had an argument with the waiter as he thought he had ordered chips with his meal when he had actually ordered mashed potato. He would not accept either my word or that of the waiter to the contrary so he had a portion of chips after he had finished his main course.

When we got back home I decided to start the process of getting him to bed. This started at 9 o'clock and was finally achieved after 11:30. First of all I had to get his evening tablets down him then he wanted the news on television. I got him into the bathroom for another pee which he managed from his wheelchair but he missed the toilet when pouring it away then I caught him wiping his todger with a hand towel. He got pretty wet whilst washing and cleaning his teeth. He decided it would be best to sleep on the couch so I got him installed with a mat on the floor and his urinal bottle perched nearby. Then there was a long fuss as he wanted the radio nearby and I had to find an extension lead to reach an electrical socket. He went to sleep straight away anyhow after all that. I have to admit that I slept badly thinking of all the possible problems of the journey ahead.

I awoke at 7 a.m. hearing Norman rummaging around for his urinal bottle so I thought it best to go and help. He started to call for me as I was on the way and, blow me, the phone started ringing as well. I found Norman struggling with the bottle then immediately found that he had had an unexpected and devastating bowel movement directly onto the settee and he was moving around in it. I did not where to start and the stench was making me reach. I took the bottle from him and stopped him wiping himself with the blanket. When I came back from emptying the bottle I caught him trying to put in his hearing aids but he had soiled them where his hands were dirty and I had to stop him.

I got his shorts off him then covered his wheelchair with paper and managed to sit him in it. I chucked his shorts into the shower and dumped the cushion in the garden. I got Norman stood up in the bathroom holding into the towel rail then wiped him down using rubber gloves, yards of kitchen roll and plenty of hygienic spray. It took a huge effort not to be sick and I had to walk out several times. His rear end was like a bazooka and the evidence was all around. Once I had Norman cleaned up I got him dressed and sat at the breakfast table with his starters. I rinsed out his clothes, including the towel from the previous night, and put them all into the washing machine. I then went into the garden and scraped off the cushion then immersed it in the bath, not realising until then that the cover unzipped and came off. I had to use the dishpan scrubber to clean the cushion and I had to rinse it loads of times before putting the cover in the tumble dryer but leaving the squab out in the garden to drip-dry.

I Cooked the breakfast (having washed my hands 99 times) and gave Norman his morning tablets. He takes a total of 23 tablets per day! We next had to complete the packing but Norman wanted a pee first so we went via the bathroom. He was peeing before I could get his pants down then, damn me, he crapped again. He wrecked his trousers and pants and the weight of it dragged his pants down to the floor. So there he was with me holding him up and him trampling around in you know what in his nice white shoes and socks. I swung him round and dumped him on the toilet but, of course, he had finished by then. I covered the floor in paper then got his lower garments off but they were so filthy and we had little time before the flight I just threw them away - I couldn't even search his pockets for money. I got him cleaned up again then wheeled him into the bedroom and left him on the bed. I took his shoes into the garden and scrubbed them clean. Luckily I hadn't thrown the pan scrubber away at that time. I had to wash the bath mat in the bath. I got Norman up and dressed again but this time I put him into an adult nappy after which we did the final packing. During my final check of the house I discovered that the bedsheets had also got soiled slightly so I threw them into the shower and left a note for the housekeeper.

We got to the airport and got checked in and confirmed that they had arrangements to get Norman aboard on a wheelchair which was confirmed. Another visit to the toilet was required so we used the disabled cubicle which happens to be in the ladies. In we breezed only to find the cubicle occupied. There seemed to be some consternation within on hearing male voices then the occupant came out apologising for using the disabled cubicle when she was not disabled herself. Just then another lady came into the toilet, apologised for being in what she thought was the gents and left. Mission successful .

There was a delay waiting for the flight but when the plane arrived Norman was carried onto the plane in his chair and he said he felt like the emperor of China being carried in that way. Because our flight had been delayed, we only just caught the connection in Los Angeles. We were ferried everywhere because of the wheelchair otherwise we would have missed the next plane. We had good seats next to the aisle and next to the toilet which was fine. Adjacent passengers were a bit put out at first with my manoeuvrings on Norman at first but were supportive later. It was very difficult to get Norman into his seat as the arm rest did not raise.

Come the time for the first meal the stewardesses started to prepare the food and heat it up. It must have been something about the dressing on the food but the smell was awfully like that when I had been cleaning Norman up earlier that morning. I still eat the lot. I had to cut all Norman's food up for him and he ate well. The stewardesses were not really aware that Norman was blind and deaf so I eventually put a sign in front of his seat saying Partially paralysed; Registered blind; Hard of hearing; poor old soul.

I kept an eye on Norman throughout the flight. I dreaded the time when he would want to go to the toilet and, sure enough, that time arrived. I glanced across at him during the night and noticed that he was sitting there with his flies wide open and his todger out. He told me that he was going for a pee but I don't know how as he couldn't walk and he did not have his bottle. I asked him to hang on and rang the bell for the stewardess. She quickly arrived and I explained what we needed to do. She went to get a wheelchair whilst I got him to his feet. We got him into the chair and I gave the stewardess a plastic carrier bag containing the items required for his toilet. It was an almighty job to lift him into the WC cubicle for as anyone who has flown will know they are very confined. Once I had got him in there I asked the stewardess for the bag and she looked dumbfounded because she thought it was rubbish and had thrown it away. Luckily she managed to retrieve it and we completed the job successfully. I would have done better to just let him pee whilst in his seat.

We arrived at Heathrow without further incident and were escorted straight through all the formalities without hindrance to the baggage claim area. Once everyone else had gone we considered that there may be a problem and it transpired that our bags had missed the plane due to our late arrival. Anyhow, they took our details and having confirmed that the bags were on the following plane arranged to have them delivered to the house that evening. Even this was complicated because the lost luggage belonged to Norman and had his name on it but it was registered in my name as I had checked them in as he can not see. The could not understand why I did not have any luggage and I had to explain that I had just gone over several days before and only had hand-baggage. The address to which we were going was neither his nor mine as he was due to stay with Brenda's sister so I gave them that address but I could not remember their phone number so I gave mine. I then had to ring home to explain the situation in case the baggage people rang then Brenda rang her sister Wendy which she did only minutes before we arrived.

Later that evening I received a phone call from the delivery van driver asking for directions which I was able to give him. He than rang from close to the delivery address asking me if I could see the van and I didn't dare confuse him by telling him I was 30 miles away. He got to the house then had an music hall type of conversation with my sister-in-law thinking he had been speaking to them earlier on the phone.

Norman went straight to bed but the trauma was not yet over. Wendy went to check on Norman and found him laying on the floor having fallen out of bed. Furthermore, he had used his bottle then dropped it on the floor. Thereafter throughout the night he continued to leak requiring Wendy to change the bedding twice.

Things took a turn for the better after that although he required someone to be on hand at all times day and night, however, I was not looking forward to the return trip taking him home.

I think this tale falls into the category of toilet humour.

Well, uncle stayed over here for four weeks. I can't say it was easy but different members of the family took it in turns to look after him and we survived. Then came the time that I was dreading - the journey back. I was to meet Norman at Heathrow airport where other cousins were bringing him from Liverpool. We all met as arranged and had two hours to wait for the plane so we chatted, had a coffee or two then potted Norman just before we embarked. We were treated with great care by the airline staff and put in seats where Norman could stretch his legs out.

Norman's journey overall that day would be 24 hours so I was concerned in case he could not cope. Anyhow, he did extremely well. He rested at Heathrow then endured his seat on the plane, only having to stand up and stretch twice on which occasions we were offered help from other passengers. This plane had a toilet designed for disabled persons so it was no real trouble, especially as we were assisted by the steward.

We had to change planes at Los Angeles and things went a bit awry there. Unlike our journey over, the couriers with the wheelchairs were not organised and I had to be forceful with the staff in order to get attention. We were taken to a transfer vehicle to take us between terminals but the driver really was not fit for the job and neither was his vehicle. The controls for the hydraulic lift did not operate unless someone sat in the drivers seat and held one of the controls in position. The driver did not secure the wheelchair properly which became evident when he drove off like a racing driver and the wheelchair lunged across the van. I had to grab it to stop it crashing into the luggage, twisting my wrist and pulling my back in the process. We managed to get the driver to stop but he then went straight off again at such speed that the front wheels of the chair came right up off the floor.

The courier at the next terminal was a very short lady with an extraordinarily large bum. She had to push the wheelchair on a long circuitous route up and down ramps as the lift was out of order. To get up the ramps she had to get her head right down to push and all I could see from behind was this vast undulating bum behind Norman's chair. I was forced to look away. Once at the next gate we had an hour to wait so I got Norman stretched out along a row of seats to ease the pressure on his back.

The next plane had no embarkation ramp but the airport had just invested in a special hand-operated lifting platform upon which they wound him up onto the plane. Norman looked like a king on his throne and said he felt like Gung Din. Being a new piece of machinery, the staff were not fully conversant with it but they did a good job. I suspect that the passengers who were all already on board were not too amused by the delay however, they were very sympathetic. Upon arrival, no such machine was available so Norman had to be carried off.

We were met at the airport and taken back to Norman's house where his personal assistant was waiting with a carer who had been hired to look after Norman. Norman did not think he needed help so dismissed the carer on the basis that as long as I was there I could look after him. Guess how I felt. We had a snack and I put Norman to bed agreeing between us that we would have a lie-in in the morning.

As usual, I looked in on Norman several times during the night to empty his bottle. I had put two out for him but each time the spare empty bottle had fallen on the floor. I was woken early in the morning by Norman calling for me. He said that he had to get up "because someone had stolen his furniture". What it came down to after some questioning was that there was a commode beside his bed instead of the usual bedside table and he had not realised this when he went to bed the previous night. Anyhow, we got up and performed the morning ritual (in the order as dictated by Norman) of clean teeth, wash, shave, toilet, dress, breakfast and pills.

Norman's assistants came over midmorning to get his routine re-established. I was due to leave the next day to visit some relatives in San Francisco and I was concerned about getting tangled up with Norman and being delayed so I started to make tentative plans to leave that day and stay in a hotel overnight ready for a clean getaway. Anyhow, things seemed to be going quite well and I decided to stay another night.

We sat in the house most of the morning and I went out to the supermarket for a few essentials. As soon as I got back Norman wanted to go out so it was into the car and away. We only had to go to the shops nearby but he would not be pushed in his chair. We finished the shopping and as we went back to the car I asked him if there was anything else to do whilst we were out but there was not. We were almost home when he said he wanted to go to the bank and you might have known that it was right next door to where we had been parked. Getting him out of the car I pulled my back and had to leave him for a while whilst I recovered enough to continue.

Back at the house I got Norman into his chair which is quite low and it was almost impossible after I strained my back. We survived the afternoon and then arranged to meet one of Norman's friends for dinner. It was a fine meal but desecrated by a trip to the toilet. When we got to the toilet I realised that I had left his bottle and the wipes and rubber gloves at home so I had to get him onto the toilet. As soon as he sat down he was screaming in pain from his back due to having been sat for so long on the journey home. So there I was struggling to get him up, my back was hurting like mad, Norman could not stop himself from peeing then the back end went off as well. Wonderful. I managed to get him cleaned up as well as could be expected but his trousers were wet all around the waistband. Luckily this did not show when he was sat back in his chair and our guest probably never knew that there was a problem.

We got back home then went through the evening routine of pills, undress, teeth, wash, cleanup and into bed. Same routine overnight of emptying the bottle. In the morning I decided to get up, wash, shave, dress and pack before I saw to Norman so that I was ready for the off when the taxi called. It went absolutely fine. I got Norman up, performed the morning ritual then made the breakfast all with time in hand.

Just before the taxi was due Norman said that he wanted to visit the toilet so I took him in. I got him stood up and started take his trousers down by which time he was filling them. I had some very uncharitable thoughts as I got his lower garments off and sat him on the toilet. At that moment the taxi arrived and the driver knocked on the front door then getting no answer put his head inside and called out. I called to him that I would just be a minute and please wait.

I went out and explained briefly to the driver that I was tied up for the moment. I then went and rang Norman's personal assistant and said to her that Norman was on the bog, the taxi had arrived and I was going home. She said to carry on and she would be over in 15 minutes. I went back to Norman to tell him that I had to abandon him but he said that he was finished and could go back to his chair. I gave him a very superficial clean, stuck him in an adult nappy, put a towel on his chair and sat him down. I left with the poor man weeping.