Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1014.
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(aka Bike) Part 1014 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad
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“Are we going to see Maureen, now?” asked Julie.
“That was the plan.” I spoke as we walked towards the ward she was on. “Of course we might not recognise her because she’s had some plastic surgery.”
“Yes, she was badly beaten wasn’t she?”
“The brutality shown by those morons was indescribable,” I felt my anger rising and walked on quickly to try and abate it. “Still if she’s back in Pompey, then her neurological stuff must be okay.”
“Yeah, Mummy, or she’d still be in Southampton, wouldn’t she?”
“Well that’s my reasoning.” I felt more guilt than anything–I’d not been to Southampton as much as I’d liked. Still I suppose the episode with the bandits had taken some of my attention.
We entered the ward asked for Maureen and were directed to a private room. We walked to it, knocked and entered, “Only the posh can afford private rooms,” I said as we wandered in.
Our mood changed moments later. Maureen was sitting in a wheelchair, with a bag attached to a catheter. Her face was still bruised but actually looked much better than when I’d last seen it.
“Well look who’s ‘ere?” she said and Julie rushed to hug her. “Hello, ma’am, good to see you again.”
I walked over and kissed her on the cheek, “You too, you look a bit better than the last time I saw you.”
“Probably, the surgeon was pretty clever, given me some cheekbones and a narrower jaw line.”
“So I see, yes very good. What’s with the wheelchair?”
“Yeah, that I’m still coming to terms with it, ma’am, you’re goin’ to ‘ave to tell your pa in law, I can’t do ‘is banks.”
“Why?” asked Julie.
“I’m afraid the ol’ legs don’t work no more.”
“Why?”
“They’re not quite sure, can’t decide whether it’s me back or me brain. I said it’s gotta be me back ‘cos me brain’s never worked.”
Julie tittered, then I saw a tear run down her face, “Can you fix her, Mummy?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart, I can but try.”
“Try what?” asked Maureen.
“Mummy does miracles, don’t you, Mummy–I can help, too.”
I ran my hands over Maureen’s head and down her back, which was difficult in the chair. “No, it’s no good, I can’t feel what I’m after, could you lie on the bed?”
“Yeah, if you gi’s an ‘and.”
Julie and I helped Maureen pull herself out of the chair and on to the bed, Then we hauled her over on to her face. I then scanned her spine with my hands. “It’s here, something’s happened here,” I prodded her lumbar area.
“I bashed it when I was a youngster, fell down some steps on my first ship, HMS Portsmouth, believe it or not?”
“So it’s an old injury–I don’t know if I can do much for that, Maureen.”
“Please, Mummy you must try, I’ll help if I can.”
“Okay, sweetheart, you hold Maureen’s hands, and see if we can get a two pronged attack going.”
I watched as Julie held on to her friend’s much larger hands. Then I placed my hands on Maureen’s lower back and she jumped.
“Bloody ‘ell that’s ‘ot,” she said between clenched teeth.
“Is it? Sorry, I don’t have much control over things.” I kept firing in the energy.
“Oh, it’s not so bad now. Just like you lit a fire on me back.”
“Yeah, only a small fire though, in case it sets off the smoke detectors,” I joked.
I worked on the affected part then moved up and down a little from that site to work on other bits.
“Cor, that’s cold, ma’am.”
“Sorry, Maureen, I don’t have a temperature regulator. Okay, that’s it for now.”
We turned her over on her back and she looked at me peculiarly. “What have you done?”
“Nothing much, why?”
“I can feel a bit in me feet.”
“Don’t tell anyone who did it.”
“Why, what’s gonna ‘appen.”
“I’m not entirely sure, what I’ve tried to do is weld the nerve fibres together again.”
“So why couldn’t the surgeons have done that?”
I shrugged and Julie said, “Because they’re not angels, Mummy is.”
“Let’s see them wings, then?” Maureen smiled at me.
“I need to go, I’m afraid–I feel shattered. I’ll be back tomorrow to see if I can do any more.”
“Can I come too?” asked Julie.
“Probably, we’ll have to see–if you do you’ll need to give me a hand round the house.”
“Yeah, course I will.”
“Oh we brought you some nighties, any washing to do?”
“No ma’am, Tamsin’s doin’ that for me. Thanks for what you done.”
“Do you need any books or anything to read.”
“Nah, I’m struggling with one already.”
“I picked it up, goodness, The Republic.”
“Who’s that by?” asked Julie.
“Plato.”
“Who?” asked Julie.
“A Greek philosopher died about 350BC.”
“347, ma’am.”
“What nearly two and half thousand years ago?” Julie’s maths was better than her general knowledge, slightly. “So what did he philosophee–ise, then?”
“Lots of moral stuff, was concerned with concepts of controlling the emotions with the mind and stuff like that.”
“How come, I’ve never heard of him?”
“Ever had a platonic friendship?”
“Yeah, course.”
“That comes from Plato.”
“Oh, hey that’s kewl.”
“Arguably the more progressive forms of most religions are neo-platonism.”
“Crikey, Mummy, you know everything, don’t you?”
“Far from it. If you asked me detailed questions, I couldn’t give you many answers, but I know a little about lots of things.”
“I think you’re so clever and wise.” Julie put her arm around mine in a partly proprietary manner. “And my loco parent.”
“Hey less of the loco.” I smacked Julie on the bum and she squeaked, then laughed. “So what’s with the philosophy?” I asked, rather rudely I thought afterwards.
“I thought if I can’t use me body, better make me brain a bit quicker, an’ Tamsin ‘ad this book so she brung it in f’ me. Funny thing is, one of the docs is a bit of a toffee-nose, well, since ‘e seen me readin’ Plato, ‘is attitude ‘as changed. Asked me what I thought of proost. I thought ‘e meant some French beer–one of them gnat’s pee ones, so I told ‘im I thought it was a bit watery.”
I burst out laughing, “What did he say to that?”
“Not a lot but he said ‘e found it very heavy, and ‘e left ‘cos the consultant came round. Anyway, ma’am what’s so funny?”
“Proust is a rather verbose Frenchman, who was a novelist and sort of philosopher, very into Existentialism.”
“Oh, I done the wrong thing then.”
“No, if you told him you thought Proust was a lightweight, he’s probably too frightened to ask you why, in case he can’t understand your answer.”
At this we all had a good laugh, and then Julie and I helped Maureen back into the chair and left.
“Is she gonna get better?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart, I hope so, but I’m not sure–I’ll keep trying though.”
“Thank you, Mummy,” she said pulling my arm round her as we walked back to the car.
