One Split Second (6 page)

Read One Split Second Online

Authors: Gillian Crook

My mood swings and tetchiness are getting worse (if that’s possible?) because Glasgow is playing the arse… they’re trying to say `if she had a fixed abode there (Glasgow)? . . . What the hell are they talking about, for god sake, I would speak to them myself if they were being awkward; I was born in Scotland and they want proof I have an address and family and I was born there… . Christ sake, I feel like an illegal immigrant in my own friggin country… Cheeky bastards, it’s probably a damn ‘illegal immigrant’ asking for the information (I’m not racist honest, but this is so annoying and I’m running out of patience).

Anyway, totally fed up and tired, and, apparently I’ve been screaming and shouting in my disturbed sleep.

Jill from admin just came in to see me… guess what, I’m going to;

 

ST ALWYNS GENERAL HOSPITAL SPINAL UNIT

PHILIPSTOLL WARD

GLASGOW

G29 8GC

TOTAL CONFIRMATION!!! IM GOING TO SCOTLAND!!! YIPPEE!!

Went and phoned Barry and kids—he was pleased and even said he would help get me organised. Do you know though, he is really bugging me. I think the way he sees it, is that there is a major irony at work here, and he’s rather disgruntled, in fact, pissed off, that the family never bothered or cared enough, when he was having a major dilemma with me, when he didn’t know how to cope with my drinking and asked for their help…
then
when they did offer to, all they did was come down south, from Scotland, and drink WITH me, so, instead of discouraging and helping, things became worse, because it lead to arguments between me and Barry… so that’s another part of the reason why he is so flabbergasted when it comes to the family, and now I think he feels like THEY will all be there for me now, when I am going to need their help more than ever, and they will be able to take the credit for looking after me, when really it’s been him for 8 to 9 years who has done that, with no recognition from my family. To be honest, I make myself sound like some sort of ‘basket case’, but I’m not, I just had, and still have, a problem with drink. So, I can sort of, understand and I could be wrong but I think he is very bitter!!

Spoke to mum and Tony (bad ass brother), and they are delighted—they’ve got me back now! clean (well, I was until Jake), albeit disabled, though that still won’t stop me getting into bother, ha ha! Still in and out of sleep—I am really getting ‘reality’ and dreams mixed up, my writing is getting smaller and I don’t have a clue what I’m asking about… like, ‘are their children ok’? when I didn’t know who, ‘they’ are, and, ‘whose’ had an accident?, and I asked one nurse who was very young, if she was managing ok with her new baby and it was good she found the hospital she was looking for, as she didn’t want problems, then she started to cry and said she didn’t want to be here today cause it was her first day back at work since her baby has been well enough to be left at home with her mum! The baby had a few breathing problems and had to be left in the hospital for a while after she had been born… god, that was spooky but I don’t think I have had any more dreams… wait a mo, that cup of coffee looks strong enough to build a row of houses on!! Anyway it’s nearly 5ish and my writing is sooo small… can’t really remember but was in my fantasy world for a while and stopped a girl committing suicide, and took her for a cup of coffee to talk her out of it—I did!! Woke up sweaty and drained… I think it may be to do with the fact that it seems so real, but there are other spooky things and they seem to be in the past. Even my handwriting is completely different…

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!!

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