One Good Friday

awful to go
got the call
quarter to three
sister said come
said very sorry
such a shiver
oh no he’s
gone broke my

h e a r t

couldn’t help
still want
them back after
all
his good
points
they stick in




Vera Stevens
20 October 2006

now my genius has gone

the brain in its
skull-like maze
now my genius has gone
it’s difficult to say
describe everything, list everything

lost everything
(want it back)
can’t remember why I’m here
memory caught in a trap
it stiffens

spaghetti maze
fingers thick
disturbed at all times
keep building roads at the end of a whip
people say they know me

I wonder at it
puzzled, caught in a trap
now my genius is some worthless song
I use a lever a little
and it comes back.

Group
speak poem
12-16 March 2010

parachute landing in jungle terrain

I’ve seen me whack
done me jumps
floating down Egypt Cyprus Malaya

that tattoo says in memory of Mitch
killed in Malay jungles
a tattoo that hurt me
I’ve killed and I’m not proud of it
(or they’d kill you
prisoner of war – whatcha gonna do?)

ever tried to pack a parachute?
bloody handfuls
like trying to get a bed into a pillow

they won’t let me out of here
told me straight I’m not for getting out
driven to die
very very very very
bored in the brain
so bored it’s ridiculous
bored to the ears

these wards are in lost time

landing in jungle terrain
we laugh
butterflies

what’ll we do after the war?
lost a lot of weight
don’t know if I’ll get a visitor
my wife died and I didn’t go to the funeral
I’d jump
to go as I want
even prisoners are allowed to
walk to the great door

parachute regiment I’d jump again tomorrow
you worry til it cracks out
cracks out open and you’re floating

down
down
down

Albert Burrows
Cherry Tree
2007

Coming into

Coming into hospital for the fifth time

coming into hospital for the fifth

hate to think of so many times

it’s a desperate thought

I don’t want to think it

get on and forget sadness

get on with it and remember only the

forget

who you’ve been with

where you’ve been you’re not yourself

I’m so glad that they come

I’m so glad that they come

I can’t say how often but they do

it’s action for yourself

to see someone

to see some with the same

perhaps the same difficulties

you are not alone

there are many people like you for better or worse

there are many people who like you

good people there are many

friends of myself friends of I

saw

my place

sat in my chair

saw my place sat in my chair

I can see so much from here

I wish

good

I can see I can hear.

Mary Arrandale

Stepping Hill Hospital

stages of grief: 1950

it’s the same a broken heart and physical pain

he died in front of me (talking one minute)
the pain in their face
you feel it
want to do
something and you can’t
the doctors said no

went cold head to toes
and you can’t get warm
when you’ve had a lovely husband
you feel it more

helping people helps
fills a gap fills what’s gone
sorry I never meant
to

break

you can let yourself go
and then you fade
sitting on ice days
not sleeping he died (talking one minute)
fade or you fight it
its always there
1950 as though it was last week as though

you cry alone
there all the time
even when I’m washing
up

a broken heart and physical pain though
everything shut
I put a bolt on the door
said: ‘There is no
good’ and then I was praying
it pulls it pulls
come back at night

come or you just
let your
self
go.

Anonymous
Cherry Tree
2009

fade away nicely

my throat
waiting
very
very weak
discomfort
my throat
can’t swallow
not allowed
drink eat
all wires
through tube
tummy
can’t take anything
so sore
feel low
absolute
useless

you want to go to sleep the whole but can’t

can’t sleep
during day
night
give tablet
just to
go
no
energy
at all
throat
affects

feel you want to fade away fade away nicely

Violet Gamble
November 2008


Photo Violet Gamble © Lois Blackburn 2009

Interview with Fraser Burton, Diabetes specialist

Diabetes: explain it in user-friendly language. That’s my job. The first bit of news isn’t so friendly. Diabetes is a chronic condition, it’ll be the thing that probably kills you. But there are many things you can do. You want to get rid of that label. Stop putting that label DIABETIC on your forehead. We put you right back into the middle of your peer group. We do that but we keep you safe.

What are the myths? People say that it’s a disease that stops you eating sugar. People say they ‘fall over’ with it – they actually go unconscious and then fall. There’s a myth that you can’t eat bananas or grapes, that’s a misnomer. People can eat anything they want in moderation. We say: eat a handful size. The main myth is that someone who has diabetes is insulin dependent.

In hospital, 10% of people will have diabetes. Most people here in Stockport will know someone who has diabetes. These people will get injections in later life. Nowadays we’re proactive with medicine. People with diabetes are one of the best looked-after groups in the country. We deal with people as a team of doctors, nurses, dieticians, podiatrists, and we bring in other specialists. Our job is to allay fears. Reassurance.

I have Type 1 Diabetes, was seven years old when I was diagnosed. I’ve done all the things you do when being a manic teenager. That’s what I tell the youngsters – you can still have your life. For the older generation, it’s explaining that they can still operate quite normally. Fit the diabetes around your lifestyle.

Type 2 Diabetes will be treated with lifestyle measures and tablets, a whole menagerie of tablets, and insulin injection too. People think its bad because it’s an injection. Think it’s worse than it is – associate it with hypoglycaemia and weight gain and sticking a shard of metal into wherever. They expect an injection to be something big and medical Hattie Jakes would use. But our needles are tiny, we don’t inject insulin into veins.

We have the grieving – a recognised circle of feeling. Anger, denial, acceptance. Most people accept it and get on with it. But denial (‘I’ll eat what I want’) and anger are part of the circle and will continually come round. If you have had things taken away from you – like chocolate – you will feel anger sooner or later.

For instance, if you are on insulin you can no longer drive certain vehicles. We negotiate medication with bus and taxi drivers. They fear, ‘My god I’m going to lose my job.’ Self-help groups are excellent for dealing with these fears, they have a massive input. There’s a lot of support – it’s actually very costly – 8% of the NHS budget goes on diabetes.

I can remember my first injection, I sat on the Sister’s knee and did it. Fantastic, look at me! I self-injected for a week. Then I reacted – ‘I don’t want to do it anymore!’ That was my circle of grief, coming round the first time.

We’re getting better at treating it, but it’s getting more prevalent. Firstly because we screen more aggressively. Secondly, we’re all getting fatter through lack of exercise. Diabetes isn’t just something that’s restricted to older people. The kids are getting adult onset diabetes earlier, because they’re not exercising.

The patients are not being blamed, but we are trying to put in place things to increase exercise and improve diet. Diabetes is an easy thing to deal with, but to encourage patients to go with your suggestions is easier said than done. For example, smoking and diabetes go hand in hand, smoking makes you many times worse and vulnerable. How do you stop the bad habits? People who are motivated will flip out of that at some point. Who finds it hard to cope with the restrictions? The people who don’t cope is everybody – it’s just the length of time that they opt out of the diabetic system that alters with the individual.

I know someone who was a bad lad – a lot of naughty habits - didn’t make any allowance at all for being diabetic. Complete denial. Now he’s got holes in his feet and he’s at risk of amputation – and he’s the most responsible patient you could meet.

When I was younger, I went travelling. I was in Yugoslavia at a railway station and I needed to inject. I went to the ticket office to ask if there was somewhere I could do it, but they didn’t understand me. I didn’t speak their language. Eventually, I injected on the platform. Looked up and there was a circle of gun muzzles around me. They arrested me – and I was saying ‘I’ve got to eat something in half an hour!’ It was three and a half hours before the interpreter came and I was in a bad way by then. Travelling was a risk, but it was calculated. Fit the diabetes around your lifestyle.

For the rest of your life you go around the circle – anger, denial, acceptance. For most of your life we hope you’ll stay in the acceptance stage. Encouragement, support, good pharmaceuticals – that’s what people need and what we try to provide.

Research is key – improvement in diet, lifestyle, drugs, machinery to test blood and so on. Insulin has only been extractable since 1922. Before that, if you had Type 1 Diabetes you were dead. We treat it as a whole team: doctor, nurse, dietician, physiotherapist, wheelchair exercise people… It’s not just in every part of the body, it’s in the head. It’s global. A big, big jigsaw of attitudes. You have to take it apart and put it back together again.

The best patients take on information bit by bit, they’re prepared to wait. Ongoing diseases go on. The information, the research, changes. You can’t expect to have this information immediately, you have to be patient. People who have the time and resources to learn about it deal best with diabetes. The patients need patience to listen. But the care staff need patience to listen to the patients!

When I was diabetic as a kid I got given five needles a week. My dad was an engineer and used to sharpen them for me. My mum would boil the syringes on Sunday. I can still smell the surgical spirit.

Fraser Burton was interviewed by Lois Blackburn and Philip Davenport

come back come back come back

walking:
a simple question

put it this way
once you’re in these places
they expect you to stay
til you’re better

my own children took to walking straightway

my wife in hospital expecting a child
I walked there four times that day
morning, afternoon, evening
must’ve done 40 miles

now you can’t say I’ve been a lazy person so
far as walking is concerned

put it this way
what changes is you
are seeing four walls day in
out

came here with expectations
put in here, I plunged
to where I am
now

walking:
a simple question, a simple answer
me, wheelchair

lets put it again this way
opportunity is a fine thing

a fine thing is opportunity
a pint and a half of beer a day
my doctor recommended

recommended a little village green
fields, the pub, a walk
dig the allotment
active all my life’s apprenticeship

(walking in the wood at night
by the river
it’d make a noise like:
come back come back come back
sandpipers
on the side
oh god aye
comes to life that does)

come in here and I’m idle, a passed buck

explain that to me straight
a straight punch
tell the doctors
they will be treated in their late life
like this.


Thomas Weston
31 July 2009

for further examples of arthur+martha poems please visit http://arthur-and-martha-poems.blogspot.com/

to try

In the UK, breast cancer is the most common type of cancer among women. Approximately 45,000 cases of breast cancer are diagnosed every year, usually in women who are over 50 years of age and who have reached menopause. However, it is possible for women of any age to be affected by breast cancer and, in rare cases, the condition can also affect men. NHS Choices http://www.nhs.uk/


to try


if you can get home I’ll be ok
can’t do it yet
takes time
hard
it’s hard
connection to outside
(I’m on my own back home)
to
try and take it easy
to try and do it yourself
my daughter she’s hurting
crying
got to do it in your own time
do it
she’s trying but hurting; at times
it hurts but you have to do it yourself
got to try
don’t cry
cancer 17 years ago
(consultant)
keeps saying there’s something there
try to tell him - there’s nothing
she was crying
don’t cry
don’t cry
doesn’t hurt
there’s something there
but it doesn’t hurt
its there, it won’t go
but I’m better
breast cancer
they’re hurting
they’re all hurting
the mastectomy
I don’t let it hurt me
I’m not going to die
not yet
not yet
I’ll just fuzzle it up
It’s there even at night
don’t let it
hurt you
let it go
let it go
something there, but let it go
nothing
this breast fine
it’s only that one
don’t get upset
don’t get upset
it doesn’t help
doesn’t help
takes time but you get better
eventually
cry at night
but I don’t show it
don’t let them see it
don’t show it
keep it to me
I know it’s there

Mary Mitchell
June 2009