I’d appreciate a visit ASAP after your return from Warwick. Pro tem, I’ve re-rostered the staff so that Charles has only male attendants, but there aren’t enough available to make the rota workable for more than 48 hours. I’m also concerned that his mother won’t stay away. FYI: I will be on station till 17.00 but am contactable at home on 821581.
SNO Samantha Gridling, Nursing Station 3
Two
WILLIS DREW UP A CHAIR beside Acland’s bed and placed his notes on his knee. If he’d had any doubt that his presence in the room was unwelcome, it was confirmed by the young man’s stony indifference as he stared at the wall in front of him. ‘I’ve got some good news and some bad news for you, Charles. The good news is that your parents have decided to go home and the bad news is that Tony Galbraith almost certainly gave you an exaggerated picture of what is achievable through reconstructive surgery.’
At least he had Acland’s attention. The lieutenant’s good eye flickered briefly in his direction.
‘The surgeons will do what they can, but in the end you’ll have to decide for yourself how much scarring you’re prepared to live with. It’s about learning to live with a different face. However good your medical team, however well you manage your own expectations, there will always be a gap between what you hope for and what is possible.’
Acland gave a grunt of what sounded like amusement. ‘It must be worse than I thought if a shrink has to break the news.’
Willis avoided remarking on the improvement in his speech. ‘It’s not pretty,’ he agreed frankly. ‘The shrapnel burned the flesh down to the bone and took your eyelid and most of your eye. Realistically, you should expect some permanent scarring and problems with the nerve and muscle functions on that side of your face.’
‘Message received and understood. Will try to be realistic, sir.’
Willis smiled. ‘Robert will do just fine, Charles. I’m not in the army. I’m a civilian psychiatrist who specializes in dealing with trauma.’
‘To the head?’
‘Not necessarily. Most injured men experience difficulty making the transition from active service to inactive patient. I gather you’d rather be out of bed than in it, for example.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my legs.’
‘Maybe not, but you were damn lucky to make it successfully in and out of bed yesterday. Forget the condition you arrived in . . . and the drugs you’re on . . . and the fact that you had a major operation a week ago . . . your brain hasn’t had time to adjust to mono-vision. By rights you should have gone arse over tit the minute you took your first step.’
‘Well, I didn’t.’
‘No. You seem to have the constitution of an ox and the balance of a tightrope walker.’ He eyed the young lieutenant curiously. ‘How did you manage to catch your mother’s wrist so easily? You should have missed by a mile.’
Acland produced a ball of tissue from under his sheet and tossed it from one hand to the other. ‘I’ve been practising.’
‘Why don’t you want anyone to know?’
A shrug. ‘It’s like a zoo in here . . . with me as the latest exhibit. People keep prodding me to see how I’m going to react. Most of the time I don’t feel like performing.’
‘Is that why you shut your door last night?’
‘Partly.’
‘Why else?’
‘To show that I could. I knew someone would barge in eventually to prove they were doing their job properly.’
‘The senior nurse found you intimidating.’
‘Good.’ He spoke with satisfaction.
Willis made a note. ‘Don’t you like her?’
‘Am I supposed to?’
Strange answer, Willis thought, giving one of his dry smiles. ‘You’re outside my usual remit, Charles. As a rule it takes weeks for patients to become as stroppy as you seem to be. They start by being grateful and compliant and only become irritated when progress isn’t as quick as they’d like.’ He paused. ‘Are you in pain?’
‘If I am I can ask for something.’
The psychiatrist consulted his papers again. ‘Except you never do. According to what I have here, you didn’t use the PCA and you refuse analgesics. Are you really pain-free . . . or is it a macho thing?’ He paused for an answer. ‘You ought to have a continuous dull ache around the site of your surgery, and acute stabs of pain every time you cough or move. Is that not happening?’
‘I can live with it.’
‘You don’t need to. Your recovery won’t happen any faster because you suffer. It might even hinder it.’ He studied the young man’s impassive face. ‘Is your amnesia still worrying you? Are you blaming the opiates for it?’
‘How can I remember anything if I turn myself into a zombie?’
‘And you think pain’s any different? It’s just as deadening to the concentration as morphine.’ He watched Acland toss the tissue ball again to prove him wrong. ‘Well, maybe not in your case,’ he said with dry humour. ‘What have you remembered so far?’
‘Nothing much. I had a flashback where I was being driven along a road that I didn’t recognize . . . but now I’m thinking it was a dream.’
‘I doubt it. Snippets of memory always feel like dreams at first. You’ll know they’re real when you can put them in context.’ He leaned forward encouragingly. ‘Being able to recall your command will take the uncertainty out of it. I imagine doubt about your leadership is what’s troubling you the most, isn’t it?’
Acland stared rigidly back at him. He had no intention of discussing his fears with anyone, let alone a psychiatrist.
Willis took off his glasses to give himself an excuse to look away. ‘There’s nothing alarming about your amnesia, Charles,’ he murmured, using a corner of Acland’s sheet to polish the lenses. ‘The brain bruises like any other part of the body when it takes a knock. It just needs time to heal.’
‘That’s OK, then.’
‘You’d be in a lot more trouble if the metal had come at you from a different angle or you hadn’t been wearing your helmet when you were thrown from the vehicle. A pierced or shattered skull is a different kettle of fish entirely. The brain doesn’t recover easily from that kind of damage.’
‘So I was lucky?’
‘Certainly . . . if the only choice was between serious brain damage and concussion. Real good fortune would have been that the shrapnel missed you altogether.’ He replaced his spectacles. ‘I gather you don’t like being told you’re lucky.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘You lost your temper yesterday morning when one of the auxiliaries urged you to cheer up because you’re better off than some of the others in here.’
‘That’s not what she said.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Invited me to keep my pecker up . . . so I invited her to take her fucking hands off me.’ He squeezed his fist round the tissues. ‘She told me I should be so lucky, then stomped out of the room. I haven’t seen her since.’
Willis was nonplussed. ‘Are you saying she touched you inappropriately?’
‘No, Doc,’ Acland answered sarcastically, ‘I’m saying she stood on one leg in the corner and danced a fandango. Look, it’s no big deal. I don’t enjoy being treated like a piece of meat . . . but I’m probably the only man in here who feels that way.’