I should be there, but I don’t want to be there... BUT I should be there - Part 6

I should be there, but I don’t want to be there... BUT I should be there - Part 6

 

Thus went the days on the ward, I'd come in, riding the train, marching through snow, like an  insane person.  I'd be looking for bad puns, all containing the word. "Buddha".  I'd share it with Karl, and we'd then set it free, as we entered the women's section of the ward.  (I say "we", I should say Karl would do it, I didn't want the blame (or the groans)).

The weeks went on, and i learnt how to dress a wound, and Karl would tell me,how he'd organised  the remainder  of his life. There was nothing in great detail, but I knew his wife and daughters were "settled", and they'd be alright. I never met them, but I saw the aftermath of a visit, as he'd be more happy and in less pain.  I could see he was hurting, he had control  of his pain relief, even though it had a limiter, to stop over abuse.  

The days went by, and the snows turn to slush, dried and then snowed again.  I started to notice, he'd want the bowl more, but the humour was still there,  He'd mention about my football team, through a few insults, and I'd reply with "how many sheep have been ahem, violated.  We'd tell jokes, and hed take to his bed, and read,  he'd do "find the word"  and various things, ("Just to keep the brain stimulated").

The days went on, he would bathe less and less, but this didn't mean we never went into the woman's part of the ward.  I'd come up with  one,  (as he'd not heard of it (too young)) and we pushed  through the door, into the sunlight.  It was like God was laying on  spotlights.  I frantically looked at the ladies lockers, and found it.  I performed that day, and to be honest, it was crap, but Karl and I wet ourselves with laughter.  I pointed at a bottle of lime cordial  and said, "Buddha, can you spare us a lime".  Only the woman who had the bottle really got it, but we laughed and laughed..

I was on a break, as we didn't work 7  days a week, and when I got back,  Karl had been moved off the ward.  The first thought that comes to mind, is that he'd died while I was off the ward, but it turned out he'd been moved into a side room.   I went to see him, and he seemed to genuinely pleased to see me. He told me that the service had gone downhill when I was off and he demanded his own room.  In reality, we both knew he was dying.

It may have been a moment of synchronicity, the fact that the tune was on his radio, but it was like the radio station had laid our final performance.  It was going to be a two parter, I'd finish, Karl would start..

We pushed through the door (and I wish I could say we knew it would be Karl's final performance, but we didn't) and Karl began.  

"The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows when"

He tried to stare at each woman, and there were all waiting for the punchline.  I burst into song,  (or croaked into song..  as my Mum used to say, Our Kenny, Flat as a Fart".

"But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my Buddha!"

We broke records getting into the bathroom,   I could say, that I was warmed up by the red cheeks of embarrassment, but he laughed, and I did.

He was telling me, that he was worried about his daughters.  They'd not told them he was dying.  I told my mentor, and she told me that my class would be in the main hall of the nursing school.  She organised two Macmillan nurses to do s lecture on the subject, but it would mean I'd be off the ward for a couple of days.  I told Karl, and he graciously allowed me the days off.