THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY by Phyllis Owen ~ Chapter Seven

An atmosphere of concern settled over the ward.  Little was said and the few words that were spoken were uttered in monosyllables.

  To Karen, the anxiety etched so clearly on all their faces was underlined by the fact that no one switched on the television at the commencement of the evening’s programmes.   Even the nursing staff, normally relaxed and smiling, went about their duties like automatons.   Whenever they entered the ward all the girls looked anxiously at them.

  How strange, thought Karen, that the concern about Petra’s illness was a common denominator amongst them, binding them all together in their shared concern for her.

  At about eight o’clock SisterRose entered the ward smiling broadly.  “It’s all right, girls,” she said,  “Petra’s condition has stabilized.  She’ll be kept in ‘medical’ for a while under observation and then, all being well, she’ll come back here tomorrow afternoon.”

  Suddenly the tension in the ward was lifted.  When the hubbub ceased, Gertie called out, “Hey, Tarryn, you’re nearest to the TV, won’t you switch on please?”

  During the following afternoon Karen heard the unmistakable squeak of trolly wheels coming down the corridor.  She looked up from the book she was reading to see Petra being wheeled into the ward by two orderlies who deposited her on the bed.

  “Thanks very much,” she said to the orderlies, who smiled their reply and left.

  “Petra!” exclaimed Karen, grinning broadly, as she raced over to her.  “Am I glad to see you!  How are you feeling?”

  “Much better thanks.  Are the others at the pool?”

  Karen nodded as she made herself comfortable at the foot of Petra’s bed.  “You gave us such a fright!”

   “Gave you a fright?  I had a big enough one myself.  At first, with all the pain, I wished I could die, but by this morning all the discomfort had gone.”   She sighed, then her eyes sparkled.  “I must tell you about a most interesting conversation I had with Dr. Pelser earlier this afternoon.  In a way he’s not at all like a doctor.”

  “How do you mean?” Karen asked.

  “He spent a good hour with me this afternoon and during that time he never lectured or spoke down to me.”

  “What did you talk about?” enquired Karen, her interest aroused.

  “Correct thinking.”

  “Correct thinking?  What a subject!”

  “Mmmh, yes.  He said a lot of people become prisoners of their own thoughts.  Because their minds are riddled with fears, their health suffers in one way or another.”

  Karen looked intently at her.  “Did he include anorexics and bulimics?”

  Petra laughed.  “Yes!  He went on to say that when we obtain our release from that prison it is essential that we adopt a new and positive approach to life.  He quoted the words of his favourite poem, something about our being the masters of our fete.”

  “Meaning what?”

  Petra burst out laughing.  “Oh, Karen, you should just see your face: it’s a picture!  It means, firstly, that we must avoid being irritable and critical.”

  “Mmmh,” Karen muttered.  “It might make sense, but it’s easier said than done.  What if I wake up in the morning feeling miserable?”

  “If we wake up miserable then it’s up to us to do something about it.  It’s easy to let unhappy thoughts take over.  Dr. Pelser said that what also helps is to try to do the opposite of what we are doing at the time.  If, for example, we are sitting down and we feel depressed, then jump up and go for a walk, phone a friend, or try singing and dancing around the room.  Anything to take our minds away from our unhappiness.”

  “Sounds crazy!  Imagine if I were in the classroom and an unhappy thought came into my mind.  Can’t you just see the class bursting into laughter if I jumped up and started dancing and singing?”   Karen giggled.

  “Karen, you twit, be realistic.  We are kept busy in the classroom and don’t have time to think about anything other than what we are doing.”

  Karen nodded.

  “It’s all a matter of training oneself,” went on Petra.  “Dr. Pelser really set me thinking.  Have you noticed that good things usually come to people who think positively because they are determined to triumph over any adversities that come their way?  They seem to attract good luck, whereas the miserable people, the complainers and whiners, attract misfortune.”

   “Yes!” exclaimed Karen.  “That’s right.  I know people like that.  My father says they’re a disaster waiting to happen.”

  They laughed together.

  “Oh, Karen.”  Petra held her friend’s hand affectionately.  “It’s also important to have a sense of humour.  I can’t remember when last I’ve felt so happy.”  Her face was aglow.  “Dr. Pelser also said that our minds are powerful and that if they can make you sick they can also make you better.”  She leaned forward excitedly, “Let’s try, Karen.”

  “No harm trying,” agreed Karen, tentatively.  “I remember Dr. Manning telling me at our last session that if we think defeat, we’ll be defeated, and that our lives are controlled by our thoughts.  Now I see he must have been trying positive thinking on me too.”  Smiling, she continued, “It can’t do us any harm.   Right?”    She laughed.  “From this very minute we’ve become positive thinkers.”

  Sister Rose came bustling into the ward.  “How are you feeling, Petra,” she asked.

  “Fine, thanks, Sister.  I don’t even feel weak any more,” Petra answered brightly.

  “I’m pleased to hear that,” Sister Rose told her.  “Dr. Pelser said that you can go to your brother’s wedding.”

  “Hurrah!” Petra cried as Sister Rose walked out of the ward.  “You see, Karen, it has started working already.  Be positive and only good things will follow you around.”

  Karen nodded.  “It could work,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Isn’t it strange, that my eating that piece of poisoned fudge resulted in my having that interesting chat with Dr. Pelser.”  Petra’s enthusiasm was infectious.

  “Yes,” agreed Karen.  “I think he’s right.  We are all masters of our fate, aren’t we?”

  One Saturday afternoon about ten days later, Karen put down the magazine she was holding but not reading and smiled to herself.  A thrill of excitement passed through her.  She closed her eyes.  Her heart was beating rapidly, for any moment now the door would open and Sue and Philip would be in the ward.  How she longed to see them again!

  The rest of the girls were busy in the kitchen.  The following Saturday, the hospital was having its annual bazaar, and everyone was caught up in the excitement of baking and sewing.   Just that morning, Karen and Tarryn had had to weight off and neatly pack masses of crisp brown biscuits into packets.

  “The safest place to leave the biscuits is in the anorexic ward,” giggled Tarryn.  “In the old days I would have sampled quite a few by now.”

   Karen laughed as she thought of Tarryn’s remark.  They had all become such good friends and in two weeks’ time, when the schools broke up for the Christmas holidays, Tarryn and Cheryl would be going home for good.  Ross Manning was also satisfied with Karen’s progress and she was hoping that when her parents came for family therapy she would be allowed to go home with them.

  “Darling,” a familiar voice called from the doorway and Karen looked up to see a smiling Sue running to her.  She hugged Karen vigorously.  Lovely Sue, with her golden blonde hair and blue-green eyes, was as vivacious as ever.

  “Help!” pleaded Karen, “I can’t breathe.”

  Sue released her and laughed.  “It’s good to see you so well, still a little too thin….” She stopped as she looked at Karen warily.  “But, no matter, it’ll be all right.”

  “Where’s Philip?” Karen asked, suddenly looking around for her brother-in-law.

  “He’s parking the car.  The parking lot is full.  Must be visiting time for the whole hospital.”

  “Yes, it is,” Karen replied.

  “Where are the other girls?” Sue asked as she looked around the empty ward.

  “Everyone’s in the kitchen baking.  Even some of the mothers and sisters have been roped in to help.  It’s the bazaar on Saturday,” Karen explained.  “I’ve been let off  because I have visitors coming from afar.”  She smiled.

  “Oh Karen, have we come at the wrong time?” Sue’s face was crestfallen.  “I know how much you enjoy baking.  You’re better in the kitchen than I will ever be.”

  “Dear Sue,” Karen assured her, “I’ve done more than my share of baking this week.  I also had to train some of the girls who didn’t know a biscuit tin from a bread tin.”

  Sue laughed.  “I hope you showed them how to make your delicious chocolate squares.”

  “Oh, I did.  We made piles of them yesterday afternoon.  It’s a relief to get out of the kitchen today.  How are Mom and Dad?  Are they still cross with me?” Karen asked guardedly.

  “No, not at all.  You should know the folks.  They don’t bear grudges and are always willing to forgive and forget any wrong.  Cheer up love.  There’s no need to worry.”  Sue kissed her sister’s worried face.

  Just then Philip arrived.  “How’s my favourite sister-in-law?” his loud voice boomed through the ward.

  Karen laughed as she kissed him.

  “I noticed a restaurant close by when I parked the car. Will you join us for a cold drink?  Phew!  I’m thirsty,” Philip said, wiping his brow.

  “Yes, I can,” replied Karen.  “I’ll show you the easy way to get there.”  She jumped off the bed and linked her arms through theirs.  They walked happily towards the large building, just below the anorexic wards, that housed the recreation hall on the one side and the restaurant on the other.

  “Nice place, this,” said Philip, as he looked around at the well-kept garden and neatly trimmed lawns.

  Karen nodded.  “I remember how disagreeable I was when I first arrived here.  I was so rude to Aggie, a ballerina who left the day I arrived.  She tried to help me and I snapped and snarled at her.  The biggest encouragement to get well is the way the girls in the ward help each other,” Karen said as Sue pressed her hand tenderly.

  “Group therapy works quickly and has lasting results,” Philip said.

  “Turn right at the bottom of this passage,” Karen said as she guided them towards a large archway.  “Left will take you to the gym, and I’m sure exercise is the last thing you want after your long trip.”

    “Quite a large gym by the look of it,” Philip came in as he stared curiously through the open door leading off the passage. “Fully equipped too, I notice.”

  They entered the restaurant, which was almost filled with a chattering crowd of visitors.  Sitting down at a vacant table Philip asked, “What will it be, girls?”
  “I’ll have a long orange drink.  A cold, cold one,” Sue said.  “After all that travelling I could drink Johannesburg dry.”

  “And you, little one?” Philip asked Karen.

  “Nothing for me,” began Karen, then as an afterthought added, “yes.  I’ll have a grape float.”

  Philip and Sue exchanged delighted glances as he walked to the counter.  They could remember all too well the sad times when they had tried to get Karen to eat and as for ice-cream and cool drinks, she would grimace at the mere thought.

  “There’s not much news from home,” Sue said as she sipped her drink.  “Mom has written and told you everything.”

  “I’ve been wanting to ring them,” Karen said, peevishly, “but Dr. Manning has asked that there be no telephone contact between us, for a time at least.  He wants me to try to sort myself out.  He and Dad have discussed this on the phone.”

  “Yes,” came in Philip.  “He told Dad that he believes in a natural healing process.  He’s encouraging you to find your own solutions to your problems.  Apparently so many anorexics live in the shadow of others, always trying to please everyone instead of developing as individuals.  He wanted you to be left alone for a while to build up your self-confidence so that you’ll make your own decisions.  It seems to make good sense.  He’s quite an authority on the anorexic.”

  Sue cast a sidelong glance at Philip and added hurriedly, trying to change the subject.  “I bumped into Miss Westbrook on Friday.  She said to tell you not to worry about school.  You’ll be going into matric next year.”

  Karen laughed.  “Sue, I don’t mind speaking about anorexia.  I accept that I have had it.  I use the past tense because I feel I’m almost cured now.”

  “Oh, Karen, honey,” Sue came in with obvious relief, “I’m so glad.  It’s been such a strain on all of us.  What a pleasure to bring it out in the open where we can look it straight in the eye.”

  “How long will you be staying?” Karen wanted to know.

  “I’m afraid we have to leave early tomorrow morning,” explained Philip.  “We came on a flying visit to see how you were.”

  Karen was taken aback.  “You mean you came all that way just to see me?”

  They nodded.

  “I’m touched,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “It was worth it,” Sue told her.  “The parents will be delighted when we tell them of your progress.”

  Karen opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.  She was too overcome to speak.

  “Have you told her our news?” asked Philip, mysteriously.

  Sue looked at him expressionlessly and shook her head.

  Karen, wide-eyed with alarm, looked first at Sue and then at Philip.  Some time ago she had overheard Sue mention to their parents that Philip might be transferred to some remote place in Natal and the possibility that this might now become a reality, filled her with dread.  Life without Sue, and Philip for that matter, would be too unhappy to contemplate.              **********