I have been doing a bit of tidying up and filing, specifically of the extensive medical documentation. As a part of this I came upon the little box in which I used to keep business cards.
It was like an echo of another world.
Before we moved here, I explored writing the patent application in a farm worker’s cottage on the Surrey Hampshire borders. I had two other ideas at the time and cannot for the life of me remember what they are now. I also went to an entrepreneurship event aimed at helping people write business plans. This was very formulaic. I offered to speak briefly but was not taken up on my offer. It might have been something to do with cocks, who knows. I don’t really do formulas.
I looked around locally for what I could do. I contacted the local university enterprise arm. They told me to write a sketch out line and if it passed, they would hand it to their vetting board. I thought foxtrot that for a game of soldiers. Bureaucracy and gatekeepers. I don’t think they understood.
But it was the cost of keyman insurance for a person only two years down the line from a cancer operation that scuppered it. No way would they be able to justify a £60k per year insurance premium in a seed round without extensive proof of concept. This was the showstopper.
There are two options ahead of me.
- Do nothing in which case the patent will not be granted, and the application will lapse.
- Read the patent documents I downloaded from Espacenet this morning and respond to the best of my ability.
- There is a third option the avocado one. In French the word for lawyer and avocado are the same.
I have got to be in the right mood to do option 2 because that will inevitably mean my refreshing various aspects of dormant knowledge. As I thought, I already had copies of the documents that the patent guy referenced. My folder for this project has 200 patents in it. Most of which I have read, some very thoroughly.
If I do option 1 the project will die a natural death and it will have cost me less than £500.
Option 3 is probably too expensive.
There is a part of me that is leaning towards 1. What would I do with a granted patent? I could flog it and that would be about it. We are working to an unknown timeline. Myeloma is not curable. We don’t know how much time is on the clock nor how severe the end game will be.
We have yet to decide what to do with the house, keep it, downsize in France or head back to blighty, possibly North Wales.
There is a realistic chance that my final chapter will be one on my tod. Really alone. This will make hip replacement tricky.
If I am going to do 2, it looks like a Sunday morning start.