Monthly Online Book Review and Listings Magazine ~ April 2009

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 stories & features

Philip Glenister Interview

Heraklion: Outcast

Secret Agent

Through a Glass Darkly

Owen Owen Painting

Archives

 

Chapter One>>

Chapter Two >>

Chapter Three >>

Chapter Four >>

Chapter Five>>

Chapter Six >>

Chapter Seven >>

Chapter Eight >>

Chapter Nine >>

Chapter Ten >>

 

Other stories by Phyllis in the Books Monthly Archive:

 

A SOFT WHITE CLOUD

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

 

Ashes to Ashes

Pen Friends
Plight of the Golden Weaver

The Train Journey

Himself
Wind in the Rushes
The Advertisement
The Popcorn went Plop!
A Good Deed
Cul-de-Sac
The Old Chief
The Unwelcome Guest
So Well Remembered
The Mini Saga
Eddie and the Deadly Python

 

 

 

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY

by Phyllis Owen

 

 CHAPTER   ELEVEN

 

As Karen was about to leave the ward, Cheryl burst into uncontrollable sobbing.  Karen hurried to her side.  “What’s up?” she asked, anxiously.

  “Oh, Karen, I’m so unhappy,” she gasped, between sobs.

  “There… now.”  Karen patted her arm.  “Tell me all about it.  Maybe I can help.”

  Cheryl took a deep breath and dabbed her eyes with a tissue.  “It all happened when I went out yesterday.  My friend, one of my best friends, bumped into me in town.  I hadn’t seen her for some time.  The first thing she said when she saw me was,” -  Cheryl burst into fresh sobbing, - “She said…she said, ‘My Cheryl, you have put on weight.’  It sounded as if she meant I was fat!”

  A flash of anger swept through Karen.  “Some friend,” she thought.

  “I’m sure it was because she had not seen you for some time and only remembered you as an anorexic.”

  “Am I fat?  Be truthful now,” begged Cheryl.

  Karen looked at her intently.  “You know I will only be honest with you.  Cheryl you are not fat,” Karen reassured her. “Let’s be realistic.  Facts will prove it to you.  What’s your goal weight?”

  “I should weigh forty-seven kilos.”

  “What do you weigh?”

  “Forty-six and a half kilos.  I’m a half a kilo under my goal weight, which Sister Rose says is fine.”

  “So why do you take notice of what anyone has to say?  Your friend may not have meant to be unkind.  Remember, you must have put on weight since she last saw you.  Before that you were skin and bone.”

  “I know,” Cheryl had to admit.

  “Petra and I have a secret formula?”  Karen laughed when she looked at Cheryl’s surprised face.  “When she was very ill, Petra discovered how precious life was and how senseless worry and fear were.  She decided she was going to be more positive in her outlook.  Dr. Pelser told her to study the lives of happy, successful people, young or old, and she would find that their personalities were strong, decisive, because they overcame problems, no matter how big.  If we look at the ‘miserable ones’ we’ll find they are always bemoaning their lot and doing nothing to change their unhappy existence.  Things are always going wrong for them because they seem to attract failure.  Walking disaster areas!   We decided there and then to kick out all negative thoughts and only allow happy thoughts to come into our minds.  It works, Cheryl.  It isn’t easy, believe me, but if you are determined, you can do it.  Of course, awkward moments do arise.”

  “How do you mean?” broke in Cheryl, frowning.

   “For example,” Karen went on, “each one of us, when we leave here, will face the distinct possibility that someone is going to tell us that we’re fat.  How are we going to cope with that?  They will only remember as as thin.  Are we going to feel self-pity and rush back to the anorexic ward, or are we going to ignore them?”  Karen paused and took Cheryl’s hands into hers. “Please Cheryl,” she pleaded, “listen to me.  You’ve come so far.”

  Cheryl nodded.  “Thanks Karen, you’re a star.  Strange isn’t it, that sometimes what we consider to be a problem turns out to be a blessing.”  She paused.

  “Go on,” encouraged Karen.

  “As a result of my problem I’ve now been put on my guard against something similar happening to me in the future.”   Then, with a mischievous grin lighting up her face, she jumped from the bed.  “Let’s go down for supper,  I’m hungry.”

  Karen laughed with relief and hugged her.  Arm in arm they walked down to the dining room.

  A few days later, Karen was lying on her bed waiting for her parents to arrive for family therapy.  Cheryl and Tarryn had just left and the now empty ward seemed drab and cheerless.  She welcomed the therapy because she was convinced Dr. Manning would release her so that she could return home.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of a fly as it banged itself aimlessly against the window pane near her bed.  “Poor thing,” she muttered.  Jumping up from the bed she opened the window to give the fly its freedom.  “I know what real freedom means,” she thought.  “One only appreciates it when one loses it.”

  She lay down on the bed again.  Life had not been bad at Green Acres.  She thought back to the time when she had arrived and of the gradual release from her prison of resentment and fear.  As she lay there, the realisation came to her that coming to Green Acres had been the best thing that could have happened to her.  Painful though the experience had been, she had learned so much about herself and, in so doing, had at long last come to terms with life. The day she arrived, Aggie, the ballerina, had mentioned that she had been at Green Acres for three months.  At the time Karen had been shocked: three months was a lifetime!  But the weeks had passed by quickly and here she was, three and a half month’s later, eagerly anticipating returning home with her parents.

  Nurse Adams, the new staff nurse, walked into the ward.  She had a pleasant face, was about forty and inclined towards plumpness.  She had the strange habit of rubbing her nose whenever she laughed.

  “Karen!  All alone?” she exclaimed, as she walked towards her.

  “Yes!” Karen replied.  “But not for long.  Mom and Dad should be here soon.”

  “How nice for you.  Let’s hope the therapist discharges you.”

  “Amen to that!”

  “Oh, by the way,” went on Nurse Adams,” A new patient is being admitted today.  Usually the hospital won’t accept patients until after the New Year but apparently this girl has to be accepted because her mother is near breaking point.”   Nurse Adams sat on the side of Karen’s bed folding her arms.  “The usual story.  For weeks her parents have been trying to get her to eat, without success and now they are desperate.”

 “Poor thing,” put in Karen, “she has my sympathy.”

  Nurse Adams grimaced.  “Anorexia is no respector of age.  This patient is only eleven years old.”

  “So young!” gasped Karen.  “Surely she must be the youngest ever!”

  “No!  The youngest patient admitted here was only nine.”   Nurse Adams looked at her watch.  “I must go.  Good luck.”  She rose to her feet and left the ward.

  A few minutes later Karen sat up with a start.  She could hear footsteps approaching down the corridor.  Then her mother and father stood framed in the doorway. With a shout of delight Karen leapt off the bed and ran to them. Her father picked her up and twirled her around as if she were a mere six year old.  “How’s my little one?” he asked, laughing heartily.

  His deep quiet voice was music to her ears.  It was then that she noticed, with a twinge of conscience, the lines of worry etched under his eyes and at the corners of his mouth.  Dad lowered her to the ground and into her mother’s waiting arms.

  “We’re a little late,” explained Mom.  “We were delayed on the highway due to a three-car pile up.”  Holding Karen at arms’ length she smiled and said, “Let me look at you.  You look wonderful.”

  Dad cleared his throat. “Don’t let us keep Dr. Manning waiting.”

  Dr. Ross Manning greeted them warmly. When they were all seated he looked first at Dad and then at Mom.  “These family sessions can be of great value, provided everyone involved speaks quite openly. It’s essential that we don’t look upon anything that is said as being recriminatory.”  He smiled at them.  “Do we all agree?”

  They nodded.

  “Let me begin by explaining that there are various causes for anorexia nervosa. As far as Karen is concerned you, her parents, even though you did it in good faith have encouraged her to take part in numerous activities such as gym, hockey, ballet and music, and you made it clear to her that you wanted her to excel in each one of them.  As she wanted to please you she didn’t complain.  She came to feel that she had lost her independence, her freedom of choice, and that she was no longer in charge of her own life.  The last straw was when Sue got married.  Karen always confided in her sister but when she left home there was no one with whom she could talk to.  Her reaction was to try to regain some semblance of independence by regulating the one aspect of her life which she and only she, could control.”

  “You mean her eating habits,” put in Dad.

  The doctor nodded.  “Deep in her subconscious there was a feeling of resentment towards you and the world at large because of her loss of freedom.  The only way she could justify starving was by convincing herself that she was fat.  The more her resentment grew the easier it was for her to stop eating.”

  “Why was she so terrified of eating?” Mom asked.

  “Because if she ate, it would mean that she had lost control.  But,” he hsitated before continuing,  “I’m pleased with Karen’s condition.  She has improved tremendously.  We must now discuss her future.” Turning to Karen he asked, “What have you decided?”

 Karen blinked at the direct question and then looked awkwardly at her parents.  “I…I…would like to give up some of my activities and concentrate on doing a few properly.  I hope you won’t mind.”

  “Mind?  You can give up everything if you wish.  All we want is for you to be happy,” Mom said, a sob in her voice.

  Thre was a short pause and Karen shifted uneasily in her chair.

  “Just to ensure that you understand the position fully, let me put it in a different way.  Karen has been suffering from suppressed anger against you,” Dr. Manning said quietly.  “Concern about being fat is just a smoke-screen.  She’s been afraid of not living up to what you both expect of her.  So, in her own way, she has been trying to accomplish something few others can do, thus giving her a false feeling of superiority.”

  “But we’ve never forced her to do anything!” exclaimed Dad.

  “I know you haven’t Dad, but I felt I would let you down if, for example, I gave up hockey and gym.  You’ve always said that once I start something I must carry on with it.  You were not interested in starters, only finishers,” Karen said warily.

  “Dear me!  I didn’t mean to come over so dogmatically.  A pity you couldn’t have discussed your problems with us. It would have saved a lot of trauma.” Dad said, shaking his head.

  “You’ve always been able to talk to us, Karen,” put in Mom.  “Why didn’t you let us know how you felt?”

  Dr. Manning held up his hand. “Please no recriminations.  What has happened is now in the past.  It took several sessions with Karen to find out these things.”

  “Yes,” interrupted Karen.  “I didn’t know myself until recently.  Mom, you’ve always been so proud of everything I did, but there were times when I could not keep up the high standard you expected of me.  Now I know better.”

  “That’s the anorexic’s problem,” Ross Manning told them.  “She tries to please everyone and can’t keep up with the pace.  But I’m completely satisfied with Karen’s health and have no hesitation in saying that she is, to my knowledge, cured.  Normally, I’m not so sure and I always try to warn patients that the disease can recur, but after my discussions with Karen over the weeks, during which time she co-operated fully with me, I would be very surprised if she were ever to be admitted to this institution again.  We’ve had a particularly good batch of girls in her ward these past weeks and the manner in which they helped and encouraged each other was remarkable.  They all had quite a few ups and downs and helped each other over their difficult times.  The comradeship has been outstanding, making our job much easier.  This has not always been the case,” Dr.Manning smiled at Karen.  “You can go home at any time,” he added.

  Karen’s face lit up.  “Oh, thank you.  How about now?”

  “Why not?” laughed Dad.

  “Why not indeed?” chuckled Dr. Manning.

  “I’ve already booked you into a hotel with us because Dr. Manning did hint there was a good possibility that you’d be going home.  Tonight we celebrate.”  Dad’s eyes were twinkling.  “We’ll go out to dinner and then a show.  How does that appeal to you?”

  “Suits me fine, Dad.  I’ll get ready at once,”  Karen said, excitedly. “No!” she added as her parents began to rise.  “Veronica will help me pack and I’ll meet you here.”

  Back in the ward she found Veronica helping the new patient unpack.  A large brown suitcase lay on the bed.  Karen looked at the sullen face of the girl.  Dear me, she thought, the storm clouds are hanging low over her horizon.

 As Karen began packing her belongings the girl’s mother entered the ward and, noticing Karen, walked over to her.  Her eyes were red and swollen.  She wore a very smart maroon suit with a pale blue blouse, and her hair was beautifully groomed.  Karen shook her outstretched hand.  “Hello, my dear,” the woman said in a husky voice.  “Surely you’re not a patient here.  You look so well.”

  “I was a patient.  I’m going home today,” Karen said simply.

  “Did …did..you have anorexia?” the woman stammered.

  “Yes.”

  “Look at my Sandra.  Were you like her?” she queried, a hopeful tone in her voice.

  “I was, and others who have since gone home, were worse.  She’ll be well again, of that I’m sure.   They are wonderful here,” Karen said reassuringly.

  A smile broke out over the woman’s face.  “I feel better knowing that the future can look bright again.”  She kissed Karen on the forehead.  “Bless you, my dear, ” she said softly.

  When Karen had finished packing, Veronica came to take her suitcase.  On an impulse, Karen walked over to Sandra.  She looked down at the small elfin-faced eleven-year-old with pity.  How pathetically thin she was!

  “Hello Sandra,” she said quietly.

  The child looked at her with large, wistful eyes.

  “Hello,” she replied, apathetically.

  “My name’s Karen, and if it’ll help you a little, I once felt exactly the way you do now.   My only advice is that you try to do as you’re told and remember, the nurses and doctors are all on your side.  They want you to get well as soon as possible.”

  The girl frowned and looked disbelievingly at Karen who thought she was going to be told to mind her own business, but, instead, she nodded.

  Compassion surged through Karen.  “May I write to you, Sandra?” she blurted out.

 Sandra again nodded.

  “What’s your surname?”

  “Robertson.”

  Karen made a note in her diary and said goodbye.  Sandra’s mother was waiting for her at the doorway.  Even though she was smiling her eyes were brimming with tears. “Thank you so much, Karen.  This has been the first time for weeks that Sandra has responded in the way she did when you spoke to her.  On all occasions she has either snapped back or said nothing.

  Karen smiled self-consciously.  “I’m glad I was able to be of assistance.  Don’t worry, she’s in excellent hands here and will definitely recover.”  After saying goodbye she left the ward followed by Veronica carrying her suitcase.

  Karen was thoughtful as she made her way down the stairs; then her face brightened.  With a light step, she walked into Dr. Manning’s office.                            

 

                                                          The end

 

 

Books Monthly is published on the first day of every month. If you'd like me to publish a story you've written, please e-mail me at editor@booksmonthly.com ~ no payment, I'm afraid, as I don't make any money from the magazine. The length of your story is no problem - long or full-length stories can be serialised. Similarly, if you have a feature article on a book, author or artist you would like me to publish, e-mail it to me and I'll fit it in. Deadline for inclusion in the next month's magazine is 15th of the month