Tim G.
One of the three Tims on the ICU.
Owner of a fine moustache.
One of the finest nurses i've worked with at talking down very unsettled clients, got the real gift of the psychiatric gab this chap.
This photo was taken at a bonfire night party at his place out in the sticks near Auckland. Most of the Taharoto crew were there.
I seem to remember that they'd rigged up the bonfire with some petrol and ran a line of petrol leading out from the fire so that it could be lit in a dramatic fashion.
He drove a big Holden Commordore.
He liked to smoke.
He had esoteric musical tastes (Rammstein and Alabama 3).
And if he ever starts telling you a story that begins "ten years ago"then you're in for a treat. Also recommended are his tales from working as a nurse in a prison (the chicken story and the chocolate cheerio story).
He pitched up at Auckland airport to say goodbye when we were getting the plane to move home without us knowing he was going to be there. I cried like a baby (there was something in my eye).
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