Nurse Talbot swiped her ID card through the access reader, opening the doors to the surgical centre. She greeted Ward Fifteen’s weary night staff, finishing their shift and trundled her meds trolley down the taupe-painted corridor to Thomas Travers’ recovery room. Biting her lip, she raised a clenched fist and rapped a jaunty rata-tat-tat with her knuckles.
“Come!” Tom grunted in response. “Don’t be shy, nurse.”
“How are we today, Tom?” she said, unlocking the trolley’s metal door as he fumbled for his spectacle case.
“I won’t be running the Glasgow marathon,” he said, resting the glasses on his nose.
“That’s no loss.” She smiled at him. “They said there’d be rain this year.”
“Humph! It’s too early to tell.” Tom shuffled upright as she located his medication. “There’s plenty of time to borrow a prosthetic.”
“You’re in good hands now,” she said, opening his blister pack.
“We’ll see,” he said, pouring a glass of water. “I bloody well hope so.”
“I’ve brought your morning cuppa, Tom.”
“I hope it’s on the house, nurse?”
“And some hot buttered toast.”
“You’re not expecting a tip?”
“Relax and enjoy,” said Nurse Talbot, turning to leave.
“I’m not planning to go anywhere, nurse.”
Nurse talbot shook her head as she left.
Thomas was impossible to deal with.
But much friendlier than usual.
Amputation is always hard.
He’d finally accepted it.
* * *
Tom had been cantankerous for as long as his friends, associates and close family members could remember. He’d survived a strict childhood in the East End of Glasgow and often heard Walter, his father, say ‘Life’s not for losers.’
Old man Travers encouraged Tom and his older brother, Jonny, to argue a point and they often came to blows to prove who was right. Jeannie, their mother, encouraged their rough-and-tumble, and laughed out loud as they battered and bruised each other. She believed in “toughening ‘em up for the real world,” and no mistake, life in Easterhouse was tough. The family owned an impressive detached property that doubled up as a surgery. Under different circumstances, they might have experienced local hostility, however, there was never any intimidation, and the brothers could handle themselves if push came to shove. Walter was a hardworking doctor and looked after the neighbourhood’s healthcare needs, accepting bottles of whisky in lieu of payment, which was much appreciated by all concerned.
Walter was a disciplinarian whose family prided themselves on academic excellence and he’d high expectations for his lads. Medicine or accountancy were the only options available or ‘out on their own’. Tom never claimed to be competitive, but then nobody ever challenged him, especially after a couple of drinks. ‘Get behind me or get out of my way’, was the code he lived by. This motto was inspired by his cynical father, who told Tom, ‘Never trust anyone, especially if they’re courteous towards you.’ In many ways, Tom was naïve compared to Jonny and less willing to question Walter’s proclamations. He absorbed his father’s cautionary words and allowed them to dictate his personal relations for years to come. ‘Believe me,’ he’d said to the lads. ‘If anyone’s nice to you, it’s because they want your money.’ Accountancy was a natural choice for Tom and he was very good with money. He was the best, but then his father expected no less.
* * *
Tom’s right foot wasn’t the first limb he’d lost because of type 2 diabetes; he’d lost three toes and a little finger prior to this operation. Somehow, those appendages were minor losses he could ignore and work around. It’s amazing how one can get used to not using a particular finger or toe in the event of an unfortunate accident or breakage. Tom viewed those losses as inconvenient or acceptable in some way. A ‘trade-off’ for not changing his lifestyle, and ‘getting away with it’, if that makes sense.
He’d struggled for years with his weight, which was mainly an alcohol related issue. Faye, his long-suffering wife, often encouraged him to take action, and even joined him on various trendy diets for moral support. However, not being much of a drinker herself, all the calorie counting helped her maintain a respectable weight and a youthful figure. Tom, on the other hand, was a devil for the bottle and would follow a regime with care, but then award himself a tipple to compensate for all the sticks of celery and portions of nut loaf. The treats were the problem. If he were serious about his health, he needed to cut out the booze, ‘but where’s the fun in that?’
It started with tingling in his toes. He’d had years of recording blood sugars, but it wasn’t until the tingling that his doctor spoke to Tom in no uncertain terms. ‘You’re on the way to acquiring gangrenous extremities, old chap.’
‘Codswallop!’ Tom said. ‘You’re talking gobbledygook, man.’
“Utter nonsense!” he said, reporting the conversation to Faye. “The man’s an idiot.”
“I hope you didn’t give him a piece of your mind, dear.”
“Of course, I told him,” Tom said, his face flushing. “He’s seen the last of my money.”
Faye tried her best to persuade Tom, however apart from a few paltry attempts at a diet, he failed to grasp the imminent problem. The tingling feeling developed into a prickling sensation and by the time he returned to the doctor’s surgery, he had loss of feeling in his extremities, general tiredness and blurred vision.
* * *
Tom always imagined he’d go before Faye; she’d enjoyed such good health throughout their marriage. It was a surprise when he got the call from the police confirming the incident. The request to identify her body in the morgue was worse than visiting the crash site and seeing her lying on the road. In Tom’s mind, she was asleep and at peace. He couldn’t quite imagine living without her. It took a couple of weeks to get used to his solitary existence. She’d taken responsibility for so much of the housekeeping that all of a sudden, he was swamped in dust and dirty dishes, unwashed sheets and baskets full of socks. His life was a mess without Faye to remind him to put out the bins and check the cupboards for provisions. He needed a housekeeper.
* *
It was Daphne who whipped the house into shape and took charge of recording Tom’s blood sugars. He’d complained to her about stabbing pains in his foot, but refused to show her, partly out of modesty, or maybe he’d already acknowledged the truth. The evidence was staring him in the face. He tried to make excuses and even promised to change his diet and quit the booze if she’d ignore it. However, Daphne, bless her, wasn’t having any of it. She tip-toed into his lounge one afternoon and peaked under his blanket to examine the troublesome appendage. Sure enough, Tom’s right foot was black and swollen, smelling like rotten meat and weeping like a lost lamb.
When the emergency duty team arrived an hour later, they wasted no time. Tom tried to negotiate for more time, but they were adamant.
“Move it or lose it,” said the medic. “You need an I.V., pal and pronto.”
Two days later, Tom had only one foot and possessed a shiny red wheel chair.
Has he come to terms with it?
I don’t think he ever will.
But he’s accepted it.
The End
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37 comments
Poor guy! This is a tough one to accept. So sad about Faye, but he was lucky to find Daphne. Great use of both dialogue and narrative here. Perfect response to the prompt.
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Hey Karen, Thank you for reading my story and sharing your thoughts; they’re much appreciated. I’m glad you enjoyed it and hope you’ll return to read more offerings… Take care HH :)
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I knew a person very similar to this. He was a shut in and didn’t think he needed any doctor to tell him what to do. His diabetes went untreated. He lost toes, then the leg up to the knee. Some people from our church and I tried to tell him what was happening, but he wouldn’t hear it. You captured it well.
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Hey Darren, Thank you for reading my story and sharing your experience. It’s very distressing to witness the slow decline in someone’s health, especially when it leads to such a catastrophic result. Some people just won’t take advice, however I’m sure you all did everything you could to help him. HH
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I enjoyed the dialogue start and the dip into history, it flowed very well. When I hit the 'anyone who's kind wants your money' I had a bit of a laugh. (personal experience :D ) Nicely Done.
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Hey Glenda, Thank you for reading my story and sharing your thoughts. I’m glad you enjoyed it and pleased you laughed at the dark humour; it’s a tricky balance to get right given the gruesome subject matter…. Take care HH
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Oh, No. My father-in-law lost both legs due to gangrene and then he died. He had smoked all his life and the blood circulation in his legs was bad. He had someone like Daphne to look after him, thank goodness. Awful tragic death. Feel for your main character and shed tears over Faye's death. So, devastating. MC may have accepted what happened to him, in the end. What else could he do? His pigheaded denial had led him to a horrible health crisis. Your story could have been written to the denial prompt. But the acceptance one makes it slightl...
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Hey Kaitlyn, Thank you for reading my story and sharing your thoughts. It sounds like your poor father-in-law had an awful fate. I can’t think of anything worse than having limbs removed due to gangrene. It’s such a tragedy that it was largely due to smoking and could have been avoided if he’d quit. I’ve known a few people who’d carried on smoking regardless of their impending health crisis; needless to say, it illustrates the power of addiction. As you pointed out, my story could have been categorised under denial, however it was more ‘pala...
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LOL. I don't think it is nuance as much as opposites. There are the five stages but whatever grief or realization any of us go through, we deal with it in our own way. Our emotions and thoughts can vacillate, happen in a different order, merge, happen simultaneously. We are all different and complicated. Some of us have to go through too much. As for the smoking. My 1st dead husband did give up smoking but too late. Formerly, he scoffed and believed himself to be invincible. He had developed thickening of the arteries and was told to give u...
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Hey Kaitlyn, It sounds like you’ve been ‘through too much’ - a fatal heart attack at 35 years is pretty shocking. You must have been traumatised by your late husband’s death, or maybe it was inevitable? Either way, it’s a tragic story….
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A secret. I was relieved. But our son at fifteen was devastated. Tragic for his half-sister, as well. It is a great cautionary tale about the harm of smoking.
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That’s a brave admission, Kaitlyn and, I imagine, a heavy burden to bear, and “yes” it is a great cautionary tale. I hope all parties have made a recovery from such a life-changing event….
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Hard to accept one foot in the grave. Thanks for liking my 'Fair Lady II'
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Hey Mary, Thank you for reading my latest, I trust you enjoyed it :)
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Very well written story about the journey and the challenges of diabetes. Dramatizing this in a story helps show how important it is not to be in denial about health issues. We all are in denial about things some of the time. Life is complex and full of problems to resolve, and coping with the stressors of living adds pressure, distractions, and temptations. The portrayal of the main character is done very well, showing his personality and reasons. Good story!
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Hey Kristi, Thank you for reading my latest piece and sharing your thoughts about the story. I have to admit, I wasn’t entirely happy with my attempt to portray the main character and didn’t submit it to this week’s contest for that reason. My original intention was for Thomas to accept his situation after experiencing a ‘Road to Damascus’ moment and I ended up with a compromise in the form of the self-deprecating exchange with the nurse. Maybe I was just too close to the subject or trying too hard to impose a revelatory change on his charac...
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I understand the main character in the story and the issue of denial is a very complicated subject. Reaching a turning point sounds interesting, especially considering the motivation or cause of the turning point. Yes, I understand re:being too close to the subject. A challenging topic, well told in this story.
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Concerning the turning point; in this case the protagonist abdicates the responsibility for safeguarding his health until a medic makes the necessary decision for him and hauls him in to the hospital before it’s too late - however, we know it’s approaching the last minute of the final hour and there’s not much choice…., HH
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Thank you. I understand. It is a well told story about a difficult subject. Very good!
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Great story! I also like the idea of acceptance of denial, and how Tom is shamelessly Tom through all his hardships.
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Hey Isabella, Thank you for taking the the time to read my story and share your thoughts. “Yes” you’re right about Tom; he’s a tough cookie and a proud man who’ll resist change until the bitter end…. Take care HH :)
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This one flowed so smoothly, Howard. Yes, sometimes, it takes being in hospital to cement a lesson. Lovely work.
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Hey Alexis, Thank you for reading my latest story; I’m pleased you enjoyed it. “Yes,” you’re right about learning a hard lesson in hospital, however it’s unfortunate that an emergency visit to hospital is in lieu of evasive action that should’ve happened earlier…. Wouldn’t you agree? way beyond when action should have happened…
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My dentist had a sticker in the spit basin: Ignore your teeth, they'll go away. "-) Poor Tom, accepting denial. Too bad you didn't enter. Hopefully - I'm sure - there will be another prompt. The 1st half of the paragraph starting with the morgue is in 1st person. Intentional?
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Hey Trudy, Concerning the spit basin logic - clearly, he’s a dentist with business acumen. There’s no escaping cavities and rotten teeth, they’re like death and taxes :) …speaking of which, in the morgue scene; the first person was my bad; oops!! Thank you for pointing out that mistake; I’ve fixed the issue now. Anyhow, the story needs a lot more work; I was tying to create a transformation in my protagonist which doesn’t exist in the current form…. HH
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And not all that often in real life. LOL Good luck, let me know when you are ready for the unveiling.
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I suspect any change to the story might manifest itself in another submission under the guise of another prompt… However, if I can rectify the situation, then I’ll let you know and hope you’ll offer some of your sage advice…. :)
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LOL Don't how sage, but I'm always ready to flap my gums.
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You’re short-changing yourself, however it’s reassuring to know there’s another chatterbox out there, somewhere :)
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Hard stuff. Great description.
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Hey Darvico, Thank you for reading for my story and sharing your thoughts; they’re much appreciated…. Take care HH
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