Where the Memories Lie

 

 

She hesitated in the doorway for a moment before walking slowly into the room and sitting down gingerly, as if it was painful for her to move. The reek of alcohol came off her in overpowering waves, and I tried to breathe through my mouth. During her infrequent appointments over the years, the doctors and I had all tried to get her into an AA programme and give support to help her quit the drink, but she wasn’t interested. Unfortunately, some people you just can’t help. As a nurse, it’s a lesson that took me a long time to learn. I could patch her up and give her advice until I was blue in the face, the same as I would for anyone else, but I couldn’t really help her.

 

‘I’m here for a dressing change. I cut myself.’ Her voice was now raspy and hoarse. I didn’t remember that from childhood and was pretty sure it was a side effect of the booze. Or cigarettes.

 

‘OK, just pop yourself up onto the examination couch and let me take a look.’ I read her notes on the screen while she lay down and lifted up her jumper. She’d told Elaine originally she’d cut 33

 

Sibel Hodge

 

herself falling onto a glass coffee table a few weeks ago, which broke as she landed on it. Elaine had removed some embedded fragments of glass from a wound that stretched under her ribs and along her abdomen. Considering she would’ve been drunk at the time, she was lucky it hadn’t turned out worse. It could’ve quite easily been a fatal injury if she’d caught an artery or vein. Because she hadn’t come in to get the glass removed quickly, the wound had become infected, and she’d been on a course of antibiotics for ten days, along with regular appointments for dressing changes, since it was considered unlikely she’d bother with it herself.

 

I pulled on some latex gloves and gently removed the old dressing. ‘It looks great, Rose. It’s healing up nicely now. You’ll need to come back tomorrow for another dressing change, and then the stitches will come out, OK?’

 

‘OK.’

 

‘We’re in for some scorching weather, apparently,’ I said as I put on another dressing.

 

She mumbled something in reply.

 

‘Knowing my luck, it will rain at the weekend when I’m off work.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Doesn’t the British weather always do that?

 

Are you doing anything nice at the weekend?’

 

No response. I didn’t really expect one.

 

I pulled her jumper back down over her protruding ribs and mottled, pale skin. I wanted to ask her if she’d had any word from Katie but Rose always got angry when I tried to find anything out.

 

She swung her legs over the side of the couch and walked to the door. ‘Thank you,’ she said gruffly.

 

‘You’re welcome. Take care.’ I smiled at her retreating hunched shoulders and wondered what Katie was up to. What did she look like now? Was she happy? Had she made something of her life or was she an alcoholic like her parents?

 

34

 

Where the Memories Lie The next patient entering shook me back to the present, and before I knew what had happened Elaine was there to take over and it was time for me to leave.

 

I grabbed a quick sandwich at home before heading off to see Tom. I was going to take him for a nice walk along the cliffs at Durdle Door. The nursing home encouraged family members taking residents for days out or on trips.

 

Mary wasn’t at the desk when I arrived. A younger nurse called Sue rushed out of a resident’s room, looking flushed and harassed, and almost bumped into me.

 

‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there!’ Sue exclaimed. ‘You OK?’

 

‘Yes, I’m just going to take Tom out for a walk up at Durdle Door. I’ll bring him back in a few hours.’