Before I Saw You(8)
Nothing you do can give me what I had back.
‘The only thing we’re concerned about is …’
The fact I haven’t spoken in weeks or looked at my own face?
Alice enjoyed watching this man struggle to find the appropriate words.
‘… we don’t feel like you’ve made much progress on the path to accepting the accident. We need you to start communicating, Alice. If you’re going to get out of here, we have to be confident that you’ve accepted what’s happened and can make positive steps forward.’
Positive steps? Why don’t we swap places, doctor, and see how many positive steps you take.
She raised the corner of her mouth as a poor offer of acknowledgement.
‘Alice.’ He took a deep breath in and came a step closer to her. ‘There are other options for you, but first we have to let the skin heal more. This isn’t the end for you … I know it may feel like it now, but it isn’t.’ The doctor reached his hand out momentarily, then let it fall limply by his side. ‘In order to make you feel most comfortable, we will move you tomorrow night. Any questions, you know we’re here to answer them.’
*
Unfortunately it hadn’t been possible to transport her curtains along with the bed, but at least the darkness just about hid her face as she was wheeled along the corridors. The moment she arrived on the Moira Gladstone ward she sensed the change in energy. It was calmer. No rushing. No fear of immediate danger. People weren’t running on extreme adrenaline and caffeine twenty-four hours a day. As she rolled past the rows of beds, Alice could just about make out the picture frames, multicoloured bed throws and trinkets. It seemed that the people occupying this space were no longer patients, they were residents. That was another stark difference to the ICU; all of these people had been given the gift of time back. In theory, they weren’t going anywhere any time soon.
Alice was woken up the next morning by one of the nurses. This woman was big and bold and not afraid to confront the elephant in the room.
‘Morning, baby.’
Alice physically recoiled. She was definitely not this stranger’s baby. Alice Gunnersley was, in fact, no one’s baby.
‘I’m Nurse Angles and I’ll be overseeing your treatment while you’re here. I know you’re not comfortable talking, so whenever I ask you something all I need is a simple nod yes or shake no – can we at least manage that? Otherwise it’s going to be hard for me to make sure you’re comfortable.’
Maybe she could forgive the term of endearment if this nurse wasn’t going to try and force her to talk.
Alice nodded.
‘Wonderful. Well, welcome to the Moira Gladstone ward. Let’s do a quick change of your dressings and then we can discuss the treatment plan.’
Alice glared at Nurse Angles, keeping her arm just out of reach.
‘I know it’s uncomfortable but I will need to change the dressing.’
Uncomfortable? Just lying still was scarcely bearable. The itching of the skin as it tried to heal itself, knitting together with the foreign slabs of flesh they’d stitched on to her. Any movement, even breathing, would tug and pull at the skin, making her wince in pain. Sometimes it was a sharp pain, like a hundred knives slashing and tearing at her; other times it was a deep dull ache that would sit in her bones and weigh her down.
‘I need to make sure your dressings are clean, Alice.’ The nurse tentatively reached for her arm again. ‘Please.’
Reluctantly Alice allowed herself to be taken and tended to. She hated it when they did this. Not only did she have to feel the covering being peeled off her raw flesh, but it also meant she had to see the damage in all its glory. No hiding. No masking. A melting pot of skin and bone, fighting to heal but still falling short. Yet the exasperation in the nurse’s voice pulled at something inside her. She didn’t mean to cause a fuss, but she had gone too long without saying anything and it felt too hard to break the silence now.
‘I’ve been given the handover from your doctor and there’s a lot we need to start doing to get you fit, healthy and out of here.’ Nurse Angles scanned the sheet of paper on her clipboard. ‘You’re off the oxygen now, which is great, wound care will remain pretty much the same, pain relief can start to be decreased slowly, and we’ll have to start physio.’ She squeezed herself into the chair next to Alice’s bed. ‘And that, honey, means you’re going to have to get yourself up and out of this bed.’
Fear drenched her like ice-cold water. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t get up. Alice started to shake her head furiously; adrenaline made her stomach churn and her fists clench tightly. Nurse Angles rested her hand on the bed.
‘It’s OK, Alice. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to panic you.’ Alice felt her breathing slow just a little; the weight of Nurse Angles’ hand next to her was having a calming effect. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but we do need to get you moving. You’ve been lying down for so long it’s important we build your strength up quickly. Let me speak to the physio and see what we can do, OK?’
Alice closed her eyes and drew a long deep breath into her lungs.
It’s OK. It’s going to be OK.
‘I’ll let you rest now, sweetie. Like I said, leave it with me and we’ll work something out.’
Just work out how you can stop this hell. Please.