One Split Second

by Gillian Crook

  Anyway, on Saturday 4th October woke up and kept drifting in and out of sleep, they are really heavy dreams… actually forgot about Glasgow. Different things that had happened in my life… things even I can’t remember… I’m imagining weird things… don’t know, but I think I’m awake… told the nurses to stop talking bout my life and get on with tea?? The rest of the girls came up and so did Joan?? They wanted to know my dreams… I was polite and told a few, but then said I was tired… I WAS and am now! I was not happy with Joan, and told her so—she was sorry and she left… or I thought she did, and I went to sleep… when I woke up panicking, Joan was there—she had been with me all the time because she could see how disturbed I was? What’s new at the mo? This all seems to have happened about 3 months ago and I am still dreaming about it… SO, nurses came in… . ‘reality’ set in, THANK GOD, had to take… hand keeps slipping off book… more Meds. Ah, god that felt good—back to reality, or is it? Cue, Twilight Zone music…

  Great breakfast, washed, thought about Glasgow… but still drifting in and out of ‘reality’. Spoke to mum, bad idea, she didn’t have a clue what I was talking about and I got frustrated… I don’t need them when I’m in a wheelchair, but I do understand she doesn’t want me to be on my own, but I think I will have a nurse with me at all times—won’t I?!? Anyway, dinners came round—the dinner ladies and dieticians couldn’t organise a friggin cheese fest in Holland!! Writing sooo small… I’m tired… there is sausage casserole, gammon, yeah yeah, whatever… they WILL get me a cheese salad brought up… , oh god, see what I mean?? When I go to sleep tonight, instead of these silly other dreams can I please get one where I’m dancing and I’m with my children? Pls god, oh and by the way make mum see I said sorry for getting tetchy and our non-conversation—it’s not her fault I’m a numpty and I hate the thought of upsetting mum… especially when she’s so far away!! Nite nite, mum and sorry… love Casey and Mitch and miss them so much… . Barry has his own family now… .

  Sunday 5th October

  Premi is looking after me today, I really like Premi—I’m not sure what nationality he is, but he’s definately not Turkish! I’m already drifting in and out of sleep, but it’s a nice relaxed drifting today… I wish I could associate the good and bad dreams, the real life and unreal ones with the times that I take my pills, to see if anything could be done to help to manage the `bad’ dreams.

  Oh god, I hate it… I just had to be ‘cleaned’, you will note I don’t talk about this much because I’m sure you don’t want to know, and there is nothing left to the imagination and I get embarrassed… they just moved me to make me more comfortable, that is so important—I would give out medals for the nurse who can sort the pillows out the best, cause then maybe every nurse would try to win that medal, and then they all may end up great pillow-comfiers! Anyway!! Now that IS fiction and I am wide awake!! Some other nurse came along and we all just had a bit of a laugh. Fell asleep for a while, but didn’t bother saying that I had just had a walk and enjoyed it—I like those dreams even though they seem so real, and for some reason I don’t wake up upset when I realise I’m crippled! Strange! Anyway, I was just about to settle down when two women came in, they evidently knew me, but I didn’t know them, however, after a few uncomfortable introductions it became clear that they knew more about my injuries when I came in, than I did! How refreshing it must be to make light conversation, well not so `light’ really, with complete strangers about your respective near-dead relatives (I mean them talking to my family and then my family talking to them)?! Oh, I was so glad to be asked how the injuries I had, had been sustained, when I wasn’t even sure and didn’t really want to talk about it!! Then they completely tried to reassure me WHY an operation would not be a good idea and it could be dangerous… Eem?? My god, how much more did they know? so, because I was just a little bit peeved that so much about me had been discussed, I decided to play along for a bit, SO, I informed them that… THE Operation was a GREAT success and I was up and about and WALKING and I was only lying down for my afternoon nap!!! For some reason they seemed shocked (yes, RESULT, they were fooled, ha ha). Shocked… that after striking up SUCH a lovely and close friendship with Tony, Paula and, especially, Marie, that they hadn’t been told the good news!!? Their names are Beryl and Doris (I kid you not!), and it’s Beryls’ son who had been in HDU (High Dependency Ward) with me and is now through in this section of the hospital as well. He can’t move about, poor bugger. His family are from Bristol (about 45 miles away) and his girlfriend or fiancé, I’m not too sure, Teresa, stays 3 nights a week in a B&B, they didn’t know if she was in tonight, but they said they were going for something to eat and will pop back in when they get back. When they get back I will tell them I was only joking about the non-operation but by rights they had no need to know so much about me anyway! One of the older women who was talking to me, conjured up that image of how you would imagine someone’s great aunt Maud, and I’m surprised she didn’t plant me with a big sloppy kiss on the way out!! Yukk! Well, seems I’m back on form for the time being… . just waiting for my orimorph and tea, oh what a lovely combination, I wonder if they do diazapam biccies? stopped for a long break. Oh god, some break, The Walton’s appeared back, but this time it was, wait for it, Doris (gran), Beryl (mum), Nick (dad), Rosie (daughter) and Adam (son). Wonder when I’m gonna meet the dog (lassie)? Actually the terrible thing is, their son Barry, now 48, fell off his pushbike mucking about with his son, and banged his head and cricked his neck; now he has an element of paralysis where he’s damaged his spine (like me) and has had a huge chunk of the right hand side of his head operated on—I haven’t seen him yet but it sounds really bad, in fact, horrendous. His head injuries appear to be quite bad but they are just not too sure of the extent… Life’s a fucking bitch sometimes!! I’m going to stop for a while, I feel really quite emotional… how can all these horrible, treacherous things happen to a person? Your perfectly capable one minute and suddenly, BANG!! . . . in one split second your life changes forever!!

  Someone brought the phone through; mum and Paula were on the phone. we spoke for a while and I found out how everyone was and they found out how I was and I had to ask if they were using the website that Barry had set up ‘in my name’—the family for some reason are not interested in using it and I asked them to PLEASE tell Barry because he keeps nipping my head about it, saying my family won’t use it because HE set it up and it seems like tit for tat—for god sake, they are all acting like a bunch of friggin delinquents and I really can’t be bothered. Anyway Paula was coming down this weekend and now isn’t! Oh dear, how sad, never mind! I mentioned Glasgow and she said she was pleased about my decision, but she sounded bloody miserable… it really left me feeling like it was a phone call made out of duty rather than to actually talk to me, anyway, thankfully, I think both for her and me, I had to go. The nurse was there with a great bulky heart machine and she needed to record my results… well that didn’t take too long, and my heart results are ok at mo. It’s a bit like these ‘Ops or obs’ they take them about 3 times a bloody day! I’m starting to lose control of what I’m writing and doing, I’m gonna stop and try and sleep. Please god let me sleep so I can’t feel the pain and for a long time—nite nite to everyone I love, and I suppose to those I like an all…

  Well, when I woke up, I saw a camcorder and it was recording me, but the thing is I’m not happy and I’m swearing and being horrible and I’m soo bad that the person recording has told me that if I was a blond and had a body like someone’s true fantasy, they wouldn’t even want to spend their last 2 minutes with me. Harsh! Heellooo. I just woke up properly, what a weird thing, I just caught a fish and someone is cooking it and that’s disturbed me… Now I HAVE woken up tired and grumpy and moaned about everything, in fact, it was really the tea ladies fault for giving me cold tea, no spoon, (I can hardly write for god’s sake), then asked for cereal and the silly cow poured my milk on, when I intentionally asked her not to… I HATE
soggy cereal… maybe I should go back to sleep and start again. I’m very confused. Oh god, she’s just given me white bread and I wanted brown!!! I’ve just about lost the will to live… give me strength. All the nurses have gone and left me in my own `mess`, you know what I mean `shitty` mess… please god, I don’t have diarrhea or summit, someone said about pills, that they can play havoc with your insides… Christ, it’s my bloody head I should be worrying about!! I am going to stop writing now because my writing is becoming illegible… and I don’t know why… my birthday is 26 January and I am unmarried with 2 beautiful kids, I’m sure I’m married? God I’m soooo sore and tired… I must remember I have been very busy…

  Monday 6th October

  Ain’t gonna say too much except things are very weird at the moment with me, I’m grumpy again and guess what? I heard two doctors outside discussing me, and they were talking about the mark on my bum, which isn’t contagious, or so, I found out, but they said that if I hadn’t been going to Glasgow by tomorrow they may not have taken me. shit! I thought it was because of spaces, and it’s not, it’s because of this wound I have!! So it must be pretty nasty, in fact, very nasty… anyway, its just as well that tomorrow I DO go to Glasgow… YIPPEE, I must get packed—I’ve perked up a little bit remembering that, and by the way, I’m flying, going by helicopter. I hope they give me plenty morphine in my pump then I can fly and fly and fly. Just woke up, fell asleep after what was an ok breakfast, and the ladies were really nice and got my cereal right, not soggy and I poured the milk and the tea was hot! For once they got breccie right, and I’m now leaving, typical! I have left myself hardly any time to pack. My mates Joan and Jo arrived to help me pack, what a bloody palaver! I have told them I’m not really going mad, even though I sound it, I just blame my pump. I have fallen asleep a few times, probably because of the morphine, but I need it for when I feel sore and I have to hit it, and whether it’s psychological or not, I swear it helps… well, I’m not soo grumpy and I know Joan and Jo are gonna miss me and I have to keep in touch. I feel bad cause I didn’t even ask Jo about her hubby or Joan about her depression! Oh dear, never mind, we did have a reminice about some of the better times, and the laughs that we had in rehab—and believe me, there were quite a few!! I was tired but in a good mood… I had my two best buddies from Plymund and we had all been through so much together and we had all come through the other end of Viewfield. I, jokingly, as if to mock, reminded them about one of the counsellor who used to get mad at us when we wouldn’t listen and one day he shouted, which for him was so out of character, WE ARE HERE TO SAVE YOUR LIVES, SO LISTEN!! Well, the joke was on me, because I’m living proof that drink can kill… maybe not dead, but close… maybe not drunk… but close! I wont forget that, and maybe one day I will go back to Viewfield and show the girls there what CAN happen if you don’t try and change your lifestyle or think you are infallible and have the ‘won’t happen to me’ attitude… maybe one day, one hour, one minute… one split second, that could be all it takes and wham! . . . Your life changes FOREVER!!

  The Irish counsellors name was Dave, and he knew what he was talking about, after all, he had an addiction to alcohol and had been `dry` 15 years, so I think he was by far, the one Counsellor, who was more than qualified for the job, and knew what he was talking about, and in turn knew exactly what us ‘recovering addicts’ were going through! Hey that’s tired me out and my arms are sore… Joan and Jo have just gone and I feel quite sad and empty. I have soo many cards, even one from the two 14 year old boys who pulled me out of the water… God, I will try and keep in touch, but it’s always so easy to say that. I am leaving here with so many memories, and the craziest thing is that I will always have a place in my heart for Plymund, even though it is the place that has changed my life forever, and you never know, maybe one day I will come back, and maybe, if there is a god who can work a miracle, I might find Alec and Shadow, mmh—dream on!

  My writing is getting smaller and smaller… please god let me have a painless nights sleep with nice dreams of my kids and my mum and all my friends I leave behind in Plymund especially Joan and Jo and one very special request that you look after Alec and Shadow or go on and work your miracles and put me back to the last time I was with Alec, and dreaming will do… Amen. (twce). Nite peeps xxx…

  Tuesday 7th October

  Today I leave for Glasgow by Helicopter

  My God, I thought that this day would never happen; me going back to Scotland—not exactly the way I planned—but I always knew I wanted to go back home, home being Fort George, and not exactly in a big bright orange flying machine (ok, helicopter ambulance), with a pilot, paramedic and nurse (I think he was on morphine too, or else he was stoned—we had a right old laugh), but not supposed to be minus two legs, though, at least I can spend lots more time with mum who I miss sooo much, and the kids will want to come up and spend most of the time with me when they can—I know it, otherwise, I would never be doing this. When I came to Derry, I can’t even really remember what I was feeling but I do know how awful my nightmares and hallucinations were… at one time I was hanging over a cliff with only something like Velcro keeping me on it and all the weight was on my top half and my body was severed at the waist and I didn’t know where my legs had gone and I was screaming with fear and no one would come, then I would wake up in sweats!! Other times I would be lying flat on a slab and everything that happened happened upside down, as if I was on the ceiling being held on by ‘something’ but I don’t know, and all the people were coming into the room under me and they were not even phased that I was on the ceiling where I was screaming for their help and they were just laughing and getting on with their chats and saying to each other ‘how well I was doing’ and I was screaming at them that ‘I wasn’t’, but they just smiled!! It was like this was ‘just a taster’ of the horrible life I was going to have, always frightened and in fear screaming for help and no one helping or understanding… saying ‘she should count herself luckily it wasn’t worse’. Christ, they wouldn’t have been saying how lucky I was if the roles were reversed—I wanted to be dead to stop the pain and fear… how I shudder when I think of those horrific times. There was also the time when I thought I was in one huge ward in severe pain, and the nurses would just ignore your screams and when you saw one coming over you would think they were coming to help you, and for that split second there was a rush of relief and anxiety, and then they would just wryly smile, come close and just when you thought you were going to be helped or even just talked to so as not to feel so scared being on your own, they would just tap your hand and carry on walking… this was hell and that was horrible, I could only compare it to how a leper might feel when thinking that someone was going to be kind, about to help them with food, and then just pop it in their mouth, kick them down and scowl!!

  I eventually got a single room, and I remember I used to see things coming out of the telly towards me and it would put the fear of death in me, and yet there were other times I would make them keep the telly on all night so I could just hear voices and not feel as if I had been left all alone. Sometimes I would just pray for daylight.

  On a lighter note, I remember when I was flat on my back and couldn’t see anything but the ceiling and I was in soo much despair the occupational therapists gave me some glasses I described as ‘my star trek goggles’ . . . they were made in such a way that when they were put over your eyes like very thick swimming goggles, you would be able to see people walking into the room whilst looking at the ceiling… it was really funny one day, because mum walked in and I went ‘hello mum, its good to see you, really see you’, she couldn’t understand at all and then when she realised why I was able to see her, her reaction was amazing, she was soo pleased, because anything the hospital were able to give me to make my life easier with my injury, she was so grateful for. So, these glasses became quite a talking point because no one, certainly of my visitors or even the nurses on my watch, had ever seen these before…
It was something that the occupational therapists had come up with, and yes, partly to shut me up cause I was always moaning. Unfortunately, my star trek goggles met a rather abrupt end when one of the nurses, showing off, dropped them, and they couldn’t align them up to work properly again. Shame!

  One last thing that I could kill Derry for, was that for about the first month they made me wear a ‘brace’ that used to be sooo uncomfortable and sore that I used to try and pull it off cause it tormented me, and at nights it was sometimes unbearable, and I would pray to god to stop the pain and let it just go. If the nurses were not looking I would try and pull it off over my head! And get into trouble, what crap! . . . not one of my better ideas… however, they eventually discovered that it was an old fracture, and when they asked me I told them I had fallen down the stairs in my flat about 10 months before (actually, I had been pushed, in one of Petes’s angry fits and fell and hit my head on the heater at the bottom of these steep stairs, prick!), so it was on the x-ray as a fracture, they just didn’t realise it was an old one at the time, but couldn’t take the risk until they knew for sure!!! All that suffering for nothing… I could have screamed… in fact, I think I probably did… well enough of my really fun time here to reminisce about, time to finish packing… how the hell can someone, me, gather so much crap in such a short space of time—considering I came in with bugger all??