Authors: Gillian Crook
So, got meal, crap—don’t feel like my writing has been very positive today!! no visits from supposed friends from down here, huh! Some friends they are… I’m trying to chase Matt from the rehab up, he was the one who shouted out my name that fateful day… I stayed with him for a while and the bastard is denying he has my cassette player—don’t worry I will make sure I get it back
and
my £30—otherwise his name will be ‘mud’—I will make him suffer!! That IS a threat. Stopping now, getting a bit aggressive and it ain’t like me, really?—need to get my positive brain on for tomorrow… . goodnight—hope this diazapam does its job and calms me down and helps me sleep—no nightmare tonight pls pls God, just nice ‘reality’ dreams where I’m dancing… nite nite kiddies, mum and everyone in the hospital—especially any other poor bastards like me!! boo hoo—get a grip?
Well, last night couldn’t have been all that bad, not really woken up that grumpy… but moods very unpredictable. Laying on the middle of the bed with no real means of getting to… I’m drifting off, . . . to the other side of the bed… drifted again—sometimes when the ward gets noisy in the morning I wake up with a jolt and think I am all refreshed and try to jump out of bed as if I was late for something and then just fall straight back to sleep… almost like watching the hypnotists. Anyway, no panic, Tom Gregson, my surfing surgeon, and Dr Nick wanted to see how I was then I explained that under the circumstances, ok; then they said that a definite referral to Glasgow was required… Christ, they should have known that anyway… he said that shouldn’t be a problem but I detected a certain amount of apprehension in his voice, anyway, I asked if either of them would speak to Barry which they said yes to. Actually ate breakfast, didn’t want telly, feeling in a slightly rebellious, no-nonsense mood today… reminded staff firmly, but politely, yes, politely, that I could use the phone as it was my time, also, having kicked up an almighty fuss about not getting oramorph (whatever it is I don’t know, but it helps the bloody pain)—why is it, I have less of my body to feel, yet I am in pain, real sore pain in places I didn’t even know existed in the small part that I can feel? from the top of my ribs upwards… not a lot really??—oh yes, ‘oramorph’ was given to me 1 and a half hours after I asked for it, so considering I had kicked off before, they seemed quite obliging.
Tried to speak to that guy ‘Steve’ who helped me after the ‘rape’`—there I said it—I can’t just blot it out, I know, but I prefer ‘incident’ cause then no-one knows what the ‘incident’ is, incidentally, there I am getting flippant because it’s a subject I am trying sooo hard to forget, but that’s what my grievance is with the turks cause they are linked to the incident?? oh god, I feel like I’m rambling and if I could use my legs they would be swinging awkwardly whilst I was sitting on a tall chair! So, . . . Steve… , I phoned his mobile and got his… WIFE! . . . Oh God, what do I do?—put the phone down like a wimp. NO! . . . speak to her… ask her name. I didn’t have to; she said “hello Juilli”, (no one calls me that except for my sisters, Angela and Paula, like a pet name—summit tells me that her voice didnt have ‘pet name’ overtones), this is ELISHA, STEPHENS WIFE”, . . . oh God, aah, scream, HELP! keeping cool but heart beating so fast… I said, “hello”, . . . she eventually… after what seemed like the longest silence in history, said ‘Hello’ and we made small talk and thankfully, not sounding soo bad… she asked me to confirm the horrible story that Steve had told her, which was; yes, I had met him when I went off the rails—pissed all the time… I got raped that horrible night of 4 July… met him soon after and he helped me and encouraged me to go to the police and he even let me get the police to come to his digs! You know, that
was
the truth, . . . she had to believe me? (that gave me a horrible sick feeling in my stomach having to explain that about the incident but had to carry on) . . . I explained about the accident and she seemed to know about it anyway but I can’t actually remember how she found out or if she even said, but it doesn’t matter. Said goodbye, but I don’t think that is the end of it!!! thank God, thats over though. wonder how Steve is… . probably totally henpecked! but that’s good—that’s normal—lucky henpecked Steve!! I’m drained, so… just for a bit of light relief, which could backfire as she has a habit of saying the wrong things at the wrong time and totally winding me up, I phoned MARIE!, needless to say, she was delighted to hear from me… not knowing that she drew the short straw! She went on about some post she had sent today, and she kept making excuses left, right, upwards and downwards and centre and I shouted at her to SHUT UP and she did, sort of like a performing monkey… I didn’t even know what she was talking about, so no major dramas!! I told her my plans regarding the rehab and moving to Glasgow, she thinks it’s a great idea, so that pretty much means that I should have lots of family support when I move home to Scotland… well, that’s the plan anyway. Spoke about lots of things, general chit/chat, had a laugh, spoke about the kids and mum… then, oh NO, I had to be changed and washed (I am never going to get used to this), so time to say goodbye… we are really getting on soooooo well, but then again I always did love that crazy woman! . . . . feeling really tired actually, feeling very exposed and vulnerable… can’t really explain it! See you again when the faeces have been cleaned up!! Oh, God, that’s a horrible expression… why do I punish myself, by even thinking of it like that? . . . fuck… I argue with myself—my rational head tells me that bodily functions are natural, and that’s what the nurses and carers are there to do… to help me, because I clearly can’t do it myself… then my irrational head says—what a pratt I am, and how demeaning it is to be so indisposed that I cannot even clean up my own shite! . . . just shoot me! please?
Played about with hair and Moira, the physiotherapist came in and she seems lovely, but she did explain that it was IMPERATIVE that I get to a Special Spinal Unit!! nearly lunchtime, as usual not hungry, but dietician has informed the ladies on dinner that I can have food from the restaurant… ooh, very pooosh! not! I’ve seen the restaurant food! I asked for a pasta and got it, left it and meant to eat it later—then sort of dozed off and it went cold… didn’t really want it anyway, I’m just not hungry. The pain and soreness in my chest is soo sore and it’s no wonder I’m not hungry… that tight ‘corset effect’ is back and killing me so much I want to scream, it’s really bad… pls God let the pain go away take my bp, which I know is short for blood pressure, and its said it was really low, around 50\80… it really does’nt mean a lot to me cause no one ever really takes the time to explain it, but I do know I need to DRINK MORE WATER!! Yeah, right that’s really important! Yippee! I hate the bloody water down here, it’s disgusting, which is one thing Scotland’s got going for it… beautiful water, right on tap!! Suppose I better attempt lunch… just getting pills… cya 8tr! ah! I can’t remember too much about lunch but I know I hardly, oh god my writing is really bad, yawn! . . . I hardly ate any of it and it was specially sent up from kitchen, lasagne, normally I would love it, but there was soo much and after about 2 mouthfulls I couldn’t touch it—felt sick, I’m too sore to eat, someone else can have it but it is certainly not palatable for me. Evidently not a lot happened after that cause I am having terrible trouble remembering… even my spelling and writing is becoming worse and my body feels even weaker and sorer than normal. Once again, having strange dreams that seem real—just now I am imagining I am, oops, going to be moved into a room next to a girl, oops I’m flaggin, a girl I don’t know and she is moving into a bed that she doesn’t really need cause she has real legs!! I’m confused… . oops… . now I feel a bit better, where has she gone? I feel quite bright but I have gone to write things—gone back to it after, and had interruptions that meant I had to wipe out all my writing because I had to get back onto a certain train of thought… I’m really confused and not making any sense and Christ knows what my writing is like? I seriously hope that they have looked at all angles of this accident and toyed with the idea of any kind of brain damage?!! Hey, imagine—no thank you?? Anyhow day and night came and went and I am going to skip out for a while—nothing too pressing to write home about… oh God, no one wants to know about what the nurse calls, ‘bowels opening’ why not just ‘done a shit’!? mum would be mortified, shit is soo crude… So far I don’t think I have put any weight on. Good and bad night; because I am dozing on and off at intervals, it is difficult to differentiate between night and day… however…
See, I’ve got a day to remember the date and it’s daytime and I woke up about half eight, couldn’t believe it, pill round is supposed to be 6! So, I was a bit angry because that puts everything out meds wise, anyway, it didn’t appear to in the end. Still feeling pretty tetchy… I keep having imaginary conversations with people I don’t know but they don’t scare me or anything, it’s quite nice really, and we are advising each other about different things—really weird. Oh my God, I am making soo many errors in my spelling and writing—Oh dear, I really have to get out of this ‘twilight zone effect’ that’s going on in my head?! Docs seem quite positive at mo but I think they dread coming near me, questions, questions? Dozed off again this morning and dreamt someone was moving in with me—I don’t know what’s real and what’s imagination at the moment… this is awful cause I am so used to my own space now and that would be tragic if it were real that someone is moving in with me. I am also feeling that I am walking to the phone and to see the docs, actually, just spoke to Tom (grabbed him whilst he was passing) and it looks like there is a big possibility of me getting to Glasgow, yippee, some good news for a change! Excellent, but I’m not going to get over excited—don’t do ‘excited’ because normally it’s a huge let down! Lets wait and see. I am going to stop a mo—need a break and need to move—my back and neck are killing me and I’m in soo much pain again, its really not fair, but what the hell, gotta get on with it, . . . PMA, I’ve been told, Positive Mental Attitude, yeah! you swap places with me whoever came out with that flippin saying? Wrote and got a letter sent to Ashley and his mum (ex. patient who did his neck in after a night out with the lads), he had to wear a hat with spikes in it and bolts screwed into the surface of the scalp, to keep the contraption on his head, and made him look as if it were keeping his head together—probably was—well we both used to laugh at it and he used to go to the shops for me and he was hilarious… he would wear it to the centre of the city… what an exhibitionist and great fun, but serious when he needed to be, which wasn’t often… my God, did we laugh or did we laugh? when he told me he had a condom business… I never asked?!! Ha ha feel ok at moment, and thinking about Ash always makes me chuckle.
Think I will phone Barry and the kids soon for my sanity. I’m not really going mad, well not at this precise moment. I think a lot of the problems in here could be boredom and frustration. Thing is, when the pain gets really really bad, I’ve realised it helps if you have summit to take your mind off it.
It’s teatime now, yummy, I’m actually hungry… hmm? hope its nice? Whilst I’m waiting for my tea, I’ve been thinking. Sometimes when I’m imagining things and especially when I have reality dreams it is sooo weird, because when I come back to the harsh ‘real’ world, it really IS my dream, and that’s where I am now, looking like a cripple… there I’ve said it now… I am a flippin CRIPPLE!! It’s almost like an out-of-body experience and reality becomes the nightmare… not a very nice concept but that’s how it is. My life in all it’s glory. In the clear light of day, when my mind is free of all present thoughts, there is ‘someone’ who has lost their legs` and I am just watching… OH FUCK, SORRY, IT IS ME!!! bye, bye time up!
Now I shall carry on… .
I have now carried the book over from where I left off on the loose paper that was written from 25th September 2003 and starting on 1 October 2003.
I would like to explain that it is very early on in recovery for me, and sometimes if the writing becomes rather erratic or illegible or I don’t seem to be making a lot of sense, it is normally because without realising it I am getting tired and fighting it, and I have also realised that when I didn’t think the pills were working, in fact they were; as the pain was alleviated tremendously, therefore, because of this the pills could make me drowsy and at times rather confused… . So, be warned, my writing can sound rather weird. Hopefully that explanation makes sense?
Wednesday 1st October
Well, potted about with bags, sorting a few bits out, doing nothing really just to pass the time—thinking about doing something with hair but it is sooo difficult because the buggers didn’t give any thought to my ‘designer’ haircut, joke, when they hacked off the whole right hand side of my head—from the state of my hair it looks like they used a blunt razor—although I suppose it was done in order for them to be able to sew the severe abrasions to my skull that were caused from my diving accident. So trust me, trying to do anything with my hair is a bloody nightmare—thank the lord for ‘bandanas’!!
Starting to get to know some of the staff a bit better now and they’re getting to know moi! Anyway, slept on and off, according to them and I have told them that they will have to be my eyes, ears, and brain at times, especially when I am talking shite and don’t even know it—I need to let them know that now I realise just how much I do need the meds and I know they sometimes ‘knock me out’ or I see things` hmm? I did talk to Barry if I remember and he was grumpy, so we didn’t speak for long. Barry and the kids were supposed to be coming down at the weekend, but Barry so kindly informed me that the following weekend would be better cause he would get his wages; after all, the journey does cost him £300 +, ok Barry if that’s the way he wants to be, I told him I would make do with talking to the kids on the phone at the moment. I
don’t want to be a burden on anyone or become a major finance liability!
Grr, he makes me mad and that’s not fair, if he could just moan in a friendlier manner. Anyway, woken up a bit and Lynn from admin came in to see me cause she’s helping me out with an old insurance claim—she ‘hums and haws’ like me but has a good sense of humour.