Adventures in Retrofit of LED Tube lights: Shop Wiring, Miniscaff and a Shocking Amount of Caution.

Working on electrical installations in a shopfront that’s over a century old is a bit like stepping into a mystery novel, but instead of discovering a hidden treasure, you have the possibilty of uncovering decades of questionable tinkering. You never quite know which previous “expert” thought it was a good idea to share, borrow, or downright steal a Neutral. This means extra vigilance is crucial, especially if you prefer your circuits isolated and your shocks limited to acupuncture needles..

In fact the business premises was an acupuncture clinic, with a dwelling above. Now, nothing says “exercise caution” quite like a dual-purpose property that mixes needles with electricity. Before diving in, I made sure all circuits were dead and isolated—because finding a borrowed Neutral the hard way isn’t anyone’s idea of a fun Monday or any other day for that matter..

One thing working in my favour? The shop was closed on Sundays and Mondays. This meant fewer interruptions and no accidental jolts while a client was mid-relaxation under the needle. My assistant and I made the most of the downtime, tackling the lighting circuits with a solid plan and a trusty mini scaffold access platform. Why the scaffold? Well, after a few hours craning my neck upwards to inspect the fixtures, I realized that a step ladder would have felt more like a medieval torture device than a helpful tool.

The job itself involved replacing eleven fluorescent batons, which sounds straightforward until you remember those glass tubes are classified as hazardous waste. Removing and disposing of them required as much finesse as handling nitroglycerin. Adding to the challenge, the shop owner wanted to keep the original baton units. These weren’t your modern lightweight plastic designs but old-school Bakelite—a material that in some places had become as brittle as a fresh McVitie's ginger snap but nowhere near as fun to break.

Once the old tubes were swapped out, the rest of the job was a matter of complete and repeat—ten more times. It’s the kind of work where your brain needs to stay sharp, lest a minor slip could turn into a major incident. And of course, the final step was testing the circuits to ensure everything was safe. Nobody wants to experience the electrical equivalent of “a thousand acupuncture needles” in the skin.

In the end, the job went off without a hitch (or a shock), and the lights were shining bright (with a warm glow) required by the Acupuncturist in time for the shop’s reopening. Lesson learned: when it comes to 100-year-old properties, the past may be unpredictable, but preparation—and maybe a mini scaffold—goes a long way.