The Unorthodox Arrival of Pumpkin Allan (12 page)

“I knew Annie had had experience of stroke, her father had died after his second one, the first left him in a wheelchair. She kept very quiet in the car, she couldn’t reassure me.

“Annie offered to drop me at the entrance to casualty while she parked the car, but I couldn’t face going in on my own. To be honest Lois, I didn’t feel up to walking without support. Anyway, once in the department, we were ushered into a relatives room and told that the doctor would be along as soon as he was able, to update us on Jack’s situation. As we waited, I felt increasingly pessimistic. Being brought a cup of tea made me feel even more anxious.

“Thankfully, the doctor did appear quickly. He was young, late twenties maybe? He sat down and proceeded to tell me that Jack had a blood clot in the left side of his brain, which caused the stroke. Then went into details that I couldn’t grasp. I remember just staring at the doctors name badge and trying desperately not to cry. Annie squeezed my hand. He said that Jack was unconscious and had no reactions to pain on his right side.

“On the way to the ward, I remember saying to Annie that the doctor was far too young to know what he was talking about. Probably wasn’t experienced enough to read brain scans properly. That I was sure Jack would make a full recovery. He was too strong a personality to give in to any ‘little setbacks’.

“I held on to Annie’s arm as we entered the ward. I barely recognised Jack in a white hospital gown, attached to a variety of drips and machines. I’d never seen anyone unconscious before. Oh Lois, he was a ghostly grey colour and one side of his face was drooped down. I didn’t know what to do or say. I gave him a little peck and then just sat holding his hand. I think I told him that everything would be all right now I was there and that he could wake up now. Then I watched him, just lying there, motionless, other than his breathing, slow and heavy. I remember his lips puffing out with his exhalations. He had white deposits around the corners of his mouth. Bruised arms, where blood samples had been taken. He had a cut on his cheek and bruising on his face, presumably from when he’d collapsed. As I sat, although I struggled to stop them, tears just started to flow down my cheeks and onto my blouse.

“Annie went and rang Mike and Julie, our son and daughter. Julie came as soon as she could and Annie, bless her, went home. Julie and I stayed for a couple more hours, just sitting and staring at our poor Jack, always so vibrant, full of enthusiasm and fun, lying there, almost lifeless. You know Lois, I pray to God I never have to go through another experience like that.”

Doreen got up and put the kettle on for more tea. “I hope I’m not keeping you too long Lois.”

“Not at all,” Lois responded, feeling that Doreen seemed eager to discuss the experience.

“Jack came out of his coma three days later. We’d gone home for a shower and a good nights sleep. His nurse rang with the news that he was sitting up and taking sips of water. Well, as you can imagine, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and I think I said to Julie, “Good old Jack, I knew he’d recover quickly!”

“The next day when we arrived to visit him, a nurse told us that, it was early days, but Jack was suffering from a severe weakness of his right leg and a complete paralysis of his right arm. She said that fortunately his understanding appeared to be completely intact, which was often not the case when the left side of the brain has been affected. Then she said that the speech therapist wanted to talk to us, that she would call her and let her know we’d arrived.

“Sonia, the speech therapist, a nice young girl, started to tell us why she had been called in to assess Jack at such an early stage. Honestly Lois, I remember the conversation as of it was yesterday. She said that, although his understanding did not appear to have been affected by the stroke, unfortunately his speech had been, and in a very unusual way. She went on to tell us the medical term for what he had wrong, something about ‘recurrent utterences’ and what that meant. Well, as you can imagine, my mind was in turmoil, I really wasn’t able to grasp what she was talking about. She’d mentioned automatic speech, which was the phrase that I grabbed onto, that sounded quite positive to me and I breathed a sigh of relief. But Julie suspected there was a reason for Sonia being sent to talk to us before we saw Jack. She asked what automatic speech Jack had.

“Sonia, bless her, went bright red and looking very awkward, told us what it was Jack was able to say. The thing was Lois; Jack had never been a man to swear. In all the years I’d known him, I can only have ever heard him cuss a couple of times and that would have been when he’d injured himself. So, you can imagine, Julie and I were completely shocked, in fact, I began to wonder whether they had muddled up Jack’s notes with somebody else’s.

Doreen passed Lois her tea and sat back down at the table. “Sonia was very encouraging of course. Told us how well people are able to communicate using just one short phrase. How as time moves on, she was sure we would be able to ignore the words Jack uses and listen to his intonation, observe the gestures that he makes with his hand, and his facial expressions and really get quite a good understanding of what he is communicating. But believe her? There was no way I could imagine Jack being able to successfully communicate using that phrase.

“Sonia went on to say she had wanted to speak to us before we saw Jack, so that our response to him could be as positive as possible. She said that his speech was still a little slurred, but hopefully that would improve. She reminded us to listen for the expression in his voice and to take indications from any hand and facial gestures he was able to make.

“When Jack returned to the ward after his scan, he was exhausted. Seeing us, he gently shook his head in dismay, tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t want to talk in front of us. I remember leaning over and kissing him on the cheek and telling him that I loved him, more than ever. He held my hand and squeezed it hard, then closed his eyes and fell asleep.

“He was in hospital for four months altogether undergoing rigorous rehabilitation. The hospital staff were fantastic. He had physiotherapy twice every day from the very beginning, then as his physical condition improved he also had intensive input from occupational and speech therapists.

“During the first month he spoke very little. He was extremely frustrated. He’d shake his head and grumble that phrase that he hated so much when his frustration became too much for him. Then he started getting angry with everyone and himself. Sonia reassured me that this was how many victims of stroke responded. She said that Jack was going through the grieving process for his body as it used to be and that the anger was unlikely to last.

“Sure enough it didn’t last, but that was because Jack slumped down into a deep depression that quite frankly, made me wish he was still angry, at least he had some life in him then.

“The depression lifted over a period of several weeks and into his second month of rehab, Jack began to take a more determined stance on his situation. He appeared to start accepting his disabilities. The elderly man in the bed opposite had also had a stroke. He was left with similar physical disabilities to Jack, but had no understanding and was unable to utter more than a grunt. Seeing him, practically unable to communicate in any way, appeared to spur Jack on, he was encouraged to use every working body part that he had. The other thing that helped Jack’s progress was a trip to the opticians and the realisation that with a new pair of specs, he was going to be able to read.

“When his glasses arrived, our son Mike bought him a reading tray where he could set his book over his lap at the right angle. It had page holders, which he could manipulate with one hand. The whole thing worked a treat and the excitement of being independent in a pastime he loved, really did cheer him up Lois.

“Various modifications had to be made to the house of course, before he could come home. The wheelchair ramp to the front door, the stair-lift and we had the bathroom converted to a wet room.

“Charles Black wrote a letter of complaint to the council saying that the ramp was unsightly and not in keeping with a row of Victorian cottages, miserable old fool. Such a nice man came from the council Lois. He said the ramp was fine and not to worry. On his way out he went and looked over at Mr. Black’s property and noticed some severe tree surgery had been done in the front garden. The council chap rang me later to let me know that apparently, Mr. Black had not applied for permission to work on the trees and since his house was in a conservation area could be fined up to twenty thousand pounds and had reported his findings to the Planning Department! Oh I did laugh. It’s not easy, living next door to such a moaner you know Lois. You’re very lucky having Annie and Dave.”

As Lois was agreeing with Doreen, that she was indeed, very lucky with her neighbours, she glanced at the clock.  Astonished that she’d been there for well over an hour, she thanked Doreen for her tea and said she must get back and check the builders had everything they needed. Doreen apologised for keeping Lois so long and thanked her for listening, “Even now it helps to talk about it Lois,” she said as Lois got up to leave.

“Well it’s great for me to feel I’m getting to know you both better.” Lois and Doreen hugged each other goodbye and as she walked away from the house, Lois contemplated what extraordinary people Jack and Doreen were.

A car approached just before she reached Honeysuckle. It was a somewhat battered looking, old Peugeot estate. The window opened and the driver, a woman in her fifties, beamed at Lois. She was hugely overweight. Her hair was in a neat bun with grey at the well grown out roots. She had large, baby-pink plastic rimmed glasses with thick lenses, perched on the end of her nose.

“Hi,” said the woman in a higher than expected voice, “are you Lois?” Lois nodded. “Ah, I’ve been dying to meet you. Heard all about you from Debbie and Richard. I’m Margaret, I live at Holly Cottage, last one in the row. Welcome!” Margaret held out a hand that looked like it was made of Pillsbury dough, and Lois shook it, smiling.

“Nice to meet you Margaret, I’ve been planning to pop up and introduce myself.” 

Lois thought how uncomfortable Margaret looked in the car. Her short stature necessitated the need for her seat to be forward, wedging her enormous breasts and tummy against the steering wheel. Lois was intrigued to know how on earth she managed to steer the car.

“You must come round for tea! Are you free now?” said Margaret enthusiastically, as a small red van approached. She glanced in her rear view mirror as Lois was desperately trying to decide whether she could possibly make time for more visiting. “Chazzy!” squealed Margaret. “My husband, oh what good timing Lois.”

Chaz got out of his van just as a horse and rider emerged from the bridleway. The sudden, loud scrunching of hooves on the stony road, making Lois jump. When the girl on the horse called out “Watcher Chaz!” Lois realised it was Sicily. She road up to Chaz, held out her hand for a high five, which Chaz, whose stature resembled a very small bean pole, responded to, with a hard slap.

“Hi Chazzy,” squeaked Margaret from her wedged position. Sicily stopped the horse adjacent to the car. “Hi Sicily, this is Lois, the new neighbour!”

“We’ve met,” said Sicily, grinning at Lois and giving her an encouraging wink.

“Watcha Lo!” bellowed Chaz, with a voice surprisingly deep for a man of his size. “Ow yer doin’ Mate, settled in all right ‘av yer.”

Lois, taken aback by Chaz’s accent responded, “Yes, thank you, we simply love it here.” Turning red when she realised how pompous she must have sounded, and Sicily had started to giggle.

“I was just inviting Lois round for tea Chazzy, I’ve bought a delicious lemon drizzle from Waitrose, you will come won’t you Lois?”

As Lois took a breath to speak, Sicily butted in, “No sorry, she can’t, Maureen’s invited ‘er for tea, hasn’t she Lois? In fact, you’d better get goin’, she’s expectin’ you at five.” Sicily winked at her again. Confused, Lois paused, “Oh…yes,”

Sicily pointed to her watch, “It’s quar’er to Lois, you’d better get a wiggle on!”

Lois, not having a clue why Sicily was behaving like this, decided to go along with it anyway, “Gosh, I had no idea it was so late! Well it’s been lovely to meet you both, another time for tea perhaps?”

“Oh super!” smiled Margaret, “Tomorrow then, five o’clock. Must dash now, TTFN!” and she wound up her window, before Lois could respond and drove slowly up the lane.

“See you ‘morrow then Lo and you Sis, you commin’ an’ all?”

“Will there be enough cake?” asked Sicily, cheekily.

“Funny!” said Chaz, winking at Sicily, “Very funny!”

As Chaz drove off, Lois said, “What was all that about Sicily, I didn’t have a clue what you were talking about, or am I going senile?”

“I wan’id to warn you about Chaz, I thought it was only fair.”

“Warn me about what? I could tell he’s a bit, well, you know.” Lois suddenly realised she was digging herself into a hole. She was about to say ‘common’, then realised that Sicily and her father were hardly well spoken. She turned red again. Sicily laughed.

“I’m not as bad as Chaz Lo, am I?”

“No, not at all. Anyway, moving swiftly on, what did you need to warn me about?”

Sicily glanced around her then leant down, gesticulating for Lois to move nearer the horse. Then in hushed tones said, “’E’s a drug dealer.”

Lois laughed, “You’re having me on!”

“No. Straight up. ‘E’s done a couple of long prison terms already.