5
C.H.I.S
Within a month it was decided that I was ready to go to the Children’s Head Injury Service, in Chailey for further rehabilitation. On the morning of my move, Dean the porter had pretty much packed up all the urgent bits to the best of his ability, when Fiona a nurse came in.
“Dear, dear me and you’re meant to be going to Chailey today, what happened?” She asked, looking at the mess Dean had made of all my worldly processions. I was just looking at her all wrapped up in the bed covers. Fiona had a Scottish accent, which reminded me of my Dad, I wish I could have told her what had happened but I was still unable to talk.
What then proceeded was like playing pass the parcel with the patient - first the doctor came to see me, then the nurse and then the doctor again! After the second time of seeing me he decided that I should have another head scan in this huge brain scanner which looked like a giant washing machine, before I would be allowed to leave for my journey to Chailey, luckily the scan only took about 5 minutes. I spent the rest of the day resting in preparation for the journey, which was now scheduled for the following day. I didn’t know what to expect, but was looking forward to being closer to home.
I woke up the next morning all hot and sticky. I waited for breakfast, watching “Time Team” because that was the only thing that my TV was tuned into. I did have my video player with me, which helped to entertain me, but I had seen all of the videos on the ward a 1000 times before. Finally I heard the bell for breakfast; I knew what ever breakfast it was, it was going to be slimy. I ate it none the less, it was like liquefied Weetabix. Then the nurses came up to me with this giant card with all their names in and wishing me luck. Once I was ready I saw two men wearing paramedic uniforms, one was tall and bald, and the other was short and plump. For some reason I have decided that the plump one was probably the driver. Then they whisked me off in a wheelchair from the ward to this separate part of the hospital; it looked like it was a garage, then the paramedic asked.
“Chris, can you lie down on this stretcher?”
They could have been kidnappers for all I knew, I eventually blinked twice for yes and with their help I got onto the stretcher and very quickly I was asleep.
I woke up after what seemed to be about 30 minutes, by then I was in the back of the ambulance and travelling along a motorway. Twenty minutes later we pulled off the motorway, onto what seemed to be a winding road. I knew we were getting close to Chailey as the winding roads were a good indication that we were in Sussex.
“Five more minutes Chris” the paramedic informed me.
I didn’t mind the paramedics chatting to me but their choice of radio station of Radio 4 with its dull and its dreary sounding presenters was another matter.
I finally arrived at the Children’s Head Injury Service or C.H.I.S, just short of 12:45pm. There were two nurses on duty, one blonde young nurse and an older lady. At first they were in the kitchen talking, the blonde one was washing her hands in the sink, whilst the older lady and another young lady who was a carer came to the door of the unit.
“Hello and welcome to C.H.I.S.” they said in unison. They had put a “WELCOME TO C.H.I.S” banner up on the stair well.
“First I suppose you want the grand tour?”
I blinked twice for “yes”. Chris P, the carer showed me around, she was another blonde haired lady. They had everything at C.H.I.S even a “Dark room” which I was intrigued by. The head injury unit had even been opened by Danny & Nicky from Southern FM, a radio station from Brighton; there was a plaque on the wall.
After the grand tour I was taken into the lift by this nurse named Debbie. Where we were transported up to the first floor, then Debbie pushed me all the way down to the end of the corridor to the last room. Once there she put a hoist sling under me and I was “winched” over and on to my new bed. I felt as though I was Superman! After so much excitement I fell straight to sleep.
I slept until 9 o’clock the next morning. When I finally woke up I was aware that there was somebody in the room with me. I made eye contact with Chris P.
“Are you going to lie there all day?” she said light-heartedly.
I’m new here! I thought to myself.
“Well you’re going to have to get up for dinner at six if not before because Danielle can’t wait to meet you.”
I got up half an hour later with the help of Sue and John who were also carers. Sue took me down in the lift whilst John used the stairs adjacent to the lift. The lift made a low humming noise as it went down. When we got out of the lift a lady was standing in front of the notice board.
“Hi!” she greeted me “I’m Hilary one of your speech and language therapists”.
There were apparently two of them but I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. There was also a physio, an occupational therapist and a computer guy called Mario, who specialised in teaching I.T skills.
Next I was introduced to Danielle who was also a patient at C.H.I.S. She was thin and pretty, but she also had the most incredible personality. I was later to discover that she had one of the loudest laughs I had ever heard. Then the manager of C.H.I.S introduced herself.
“Hi I’m Val W the manager, how are you this fine evening?”
I blinked twice for yes meaning I was alright. I was really tired now, being in new places did that to you, and there was so much to take in. A night carer, Shelley took me upstairs in the lift, along the corridor to the shower room where she helped me to get undressed. Then she got a shower chair for me to use.
“Chris you’re light!” she remarked, as she helped me get into the shower room. I didn’t have time to check after my shower how I looked before I went to my room, I was so tired. Shelley took me along the long corridor to my room at the end, where I once again did a Superman impression on the way to my bed.
At 7 o’clock, the next morning the nurses came to haul me out of bed and if the early morning call wasn’t bad enough, once I was downstairs at the breakfast table I discovered there wasn’t any Coco Pops. I wasn’t impressed! Talk about trying to make sure you got enough fibre. In the end I chose this unmarked cereal box. It tasted what I imagined dried wallpaper paste would taste like, and it was going down my throat like the queues of traffic on the M25, moving very slowly! At that point I thought to myself, what’s the point in having breakfast, if it is going to be that unpleasant. After breakfast Danielle and I were reminded to go and fill our timetables out from the board at the end of the downstairs corridor and opposite the lift. Before I could do mine I had to wait while Danielle did hers and wait for someone to push me there. After I sat there for a while looking needy, I managed to get Sue a short lady with jet black hair to push me towards the board.
“How are you this morning Chris?” she enquired.
I nodded my head to indicate that I was ok.
“I think you’re going out in the bus today with Patrick” she continued.
I filled out my timetable as best as I could. On the way back to the dining room I heard Pat the physio cough, then the kettle click. Pat was reading out the headlines from the Daily Mail newspaper, “When will Bin Laden strike again…?” this session was called “orientation”.
The first session on my timetable was speech and language therapy with Val, then physio with Pat then I had a bus trip. I got Angie to take me to Val’s room where Patrick, another patient of C.H.I.S was just putting his guitar away. My first impression of Patrick was obviously he’s a musician but he also let me know he was from Ireland
“Hello Chris, I’m Valerie. I believe you met my counterpart Hilary, yesterday and this is Patrick just leaving. Right let‘s see what your voice is like”
I thought this was funny; I chuckled for 5 seconds and then let out a noise -
“Jes” which was my attempt at yes.
“Right then Chris we’re going to have to work on that, what’s your favourite instrument?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Have you heard a guitar or keyboard before?”
I indicated that I preferred the keyboard.
“Well that is lucky we have some here, what can you play? Do you know “what shall we do with the drunken sailor?”
Later that evening, Tim came to visit me at C.H.I.S. However, Tim didn’t seem his usual self. The tone of his voice was different, as if he had left something behind. I later found out that he and his family were planning to move to New Zealand quite soon. Shortly after Tim finished his visit I had Chris P who was my favourite carer as well as others. The fun didn’t stop there I had Shirl on duty that night who we had just heard coming to work on her pop pop bike, it was only a 200 cc moped, with learner plates, it was a running joke that she called it her “Harley Davidson”. As soon as I had my bath I got dressed into my Homer Simpson dressing gown and tidied my room up to the Mum standard.
The next morning I looked on the board when I got out of the lift. I was due to have S.A.L.T, which was speech and language therapy, O.T, which is occupational therapy, then PT, which is physiotherapy, followed by a half hour break and finally C.Z, which I hadn’t had before. I was thinking what it could stand for, when almost out of nowhere a lady introduced herself to me.
“Hello, my name is Christina I’m the educational psychiatrist.”
I read her badge it said “Christina Z” it was all fitting in to place now.
Patrick, Danielle and Mattie were the other patients at C.H.I.S. I liked everything about Danielle, Patrick was all right, he was Irish, but that didn’t stop us from having fun. Mattie was the youngest out of the four of us and the quietest around the breakfast table. I was soon to learn however, that when we were all in S.A.L.T it was Mattie who was the loudest! Lorie, a helper was playing his keyboard and Val was humming along to the music. Mattie was just shouting really loudly! I personally thought he was pushing it but what do I know? Danielle was having no trouble singing along. I found out later that she had either belonged to a singing club or had a private singing teacher. Then Hilary the other speech therapist came into the room, Patrick saluted to her and said –
“standby your beds:”
Which I thought was cheeky but it was apparently a pretty normal thing for Patrick to do as nobody took any notice.
O.T was next – a quick half an hour session with Eleanor the therapist. The day wore on with physio which was interesting but it made me tired. Finally I had Christina the educational psychiatrist, who when I went in the room greeted me like an old friend which I thought was nice but strange as well! When I entered the room I realised that there wasn’t just Christina sitting there, but Dr B was also in the room. The session was the longest half an hour I have ever endured!
After I had completed all my therapy for the day, I congregated with my fellow inmates in the dining room, so it was my first opportunity to find out more about them. Patrick was the biggest male chauvinist I had ever met. This fact was well known amongst the nurses and that evening Angie, one of the nurses, got her own back by somehow forcing him to do the washing up. Danielle, me and Mattie all took the mickey out of him that night; I think one of them managed to get a photo of him actually doing the washing up, as proof.
The next morning at breakfast Patrick still wasn’t very happy. Danielle was putting in a piece of toast and she asked me –
“As it happens my friends Rebecca and Emma are coming over tonight so could you ask your friends Harry and Jimmy not to come tonight?”
“Well, I can’t control who comes to see me. Why anyway?” I asked.
“Because they’re annoying!” she answered.
It was Friday and at 1 o’ clock the sun was shining and I had swimming as usual. Danielle was trying to get out of anything that took place inside as it was a hot and sunny day. None of us minded but Patrick whispered something in her ear, he obviously thought it was funny but Danielle didn’t look impressed, but it had done the trick. So we all went over to the swimming pool. On the way I saw three abandoned looking houses and saw bright lights coming out of one of the windows. I said to Pat the physio –
“There’s a light coming out of that window.”
“Which window?” she asked.
Then Patrick piped up –
“Danielle have you been giving Chris them funny fags again!”
By then I was annoyed with Pat for not believing me. We carried on towards the swimming pool. The mystery would have to keep for another day.