The upshot being that by the time we reached Bournemouth we were shattered—especially Ian. Most of the seizures he had occurred toward the end of gigs but this one was near the beginning of the show, which we had to stop. It lasted about an hour and a half, with me and Rob taking turns holding him down in the dressing room; once again with me holding his tongue in his mouth to stop him from swallowing it. Christ, it was scary.
