Chapter 2: Stacey turns up

There’s nothing I can say about the last two weeks.  There is no question I have about the last two weeks.  The only thing I want to know is how to use the toilet correctly. How to use it without dribbling.  How to finish everything before I stand up.

I’m ready to move on. I’ve got things to do.  Jolene introduces me to a member of staff. The member is a sitter.  Later I learn what she is here for.  She is to sit with me all day to prevent me injuring myself. This bores me. Why would I injure myself? Most of the time she does nothing except watch me. Without speaking to me.

Next day I decide to survey the room.  It contains two beds.  My bed is where I spend all my time. There is a wardrobe opposite the bed.  It contains the flimsy remains of a few clothes. They look like my clothes. How did they get there? There is a sink between the two beds. There is a small door leading off to toilet and shower. I wonder how I can use the shower. The room is very neat and clean. Every surface has been scrubbed and shines. Within a few weeks I learn that the bed is the only thing that matters.  I lie on it and look out the window.

I listen to the nurses in the corridor and anticipate if they are coming in to my room. If they come in they will glance at the chart and say, “Have your bowels moved?”  Initially the question surprises me and I want to say, “Mind your own business.” This is a very bad response.  Later I learn to say, “Yes” as soon as they ask and they immediately without looking put the chart down with a very pleased look on their faces. I’ve worked out I can easily make them happy by saying yes or by saying they feel like they are about to move or they moved yesterday. So easy to make someone happy.  I can even say yes when the real answer is no and it’s just as effective.

I look around the room.  It is immaculate.  Beside the bed is a radio and reading light. How do I control them? I give up. Below them are some cupboards containing shirts, socks and underclothes.  I am pleased because they are mine. I never think about why my underpants are next to my bed. I just accept them and think about when I am going to wear them.

I notice the door to the corridor. It is unlocked. People keep on opening the door, peering in and then moving on.   Who are these people that keep on peering in. The corridor is continually busy with people moving up and down. Some of them peer in and shut the door. Some leave the door open. I prefer the ones that leave the door open. Then I can watch the people moving up and down the corridor.

A face I recognize turns up. Stacey. One minute I am staring at the cavalcade of staff patrolling the corridors the next Stacey’s face suddenly appears in front of me. She asks me, “What can I do for you?

“That’s easy. Play the piano.”

She looks slightly stunned.  I have no idea how this can be arranged but it really is what I would like her to do. To play the piano the way she used to. When she was young we would sit in the lounge room at home. She would practice for her exams and I would lie down and listen.

She says, “There is a piano in the chapel.”

“Okay let’s go there.”