YesBut count on me - Part 3

Continued from yesterday.

Bart was the first winner of YesBut’s Images Caption of the Week Award with his caption for the photo posted on the 19th June 2007:

“84 squares, 85 square, 86 squares, orange and green blockades . . . ? Oh crap, now I‘ve lost count . . . 1 square, 2 squares . . .”

This story is dedicated to Bart, (continued from yesterday):

That evening I cleared my desk, locked up everything in the desk draws. Double checked that the draws were locked. Went to the elevator, went back to my desk to ensure it was properly cleared and all the desk draws were closed. I checked and double checked the PC was switched off and the electrical supply disconnected. Happy I returned to the elevator and as I entered repeated “please God, touch wood may the elevator work properly”. But before the doors closed I knew there was something wrong with the elevator, so I got out and waited for another. But before taking the elevator I had to go back and check my desk was properly cleared. Finally I left the office.

As I walked to the underground station I was thinking: why should I see a councillor? Suddenly I realised I wasn’t thinking “please God, touch wood may I walk safely to the underground station”. I froze in my tracks. Going forward would surely spell disaster. I had to retrace my track. But how far? To go back too far would be disastrous. I had to be careful and count my steps.

“1,2, 3, . . 20, 21,**,**, . . .**,**,, ?, ?, oh crap, now I‘ve lost count ”.

What should I do? Go forward to the unknown and disaster, or back to certain death. I looked around me and noticed I was standing at the junction of a side-street. Should I cross back across the street? At that point the hands of the clock seemed to slow down everything was happening in slow motion. The child on the other pavement dropping his ball, it bouncing onto the road, the child twisting his had free from his mothers grip and rushing after the ball. There was no time for me to think, or pray for Gods help as I stepped off the pavement to save the child. Then there was a piercing screeching sound of motor cycle brakes - something I instantaneously remembered I had heard before.

YesBut count on me - Part 2

Continued from yesterday.

Bart was the first winner of YesBut’s Images Caption of the Week Award with his caption for the photo posted on 19th June 2007:

“84 squares, 85 square, 86 squares, orange and green blockades . . . ? Oh crap, now I‘ve lost count . . . 1 square, 2 squares . . .”

This story is dedicated to Bart, (continued from yesterday):

I made plans the evening before the meeting; I would leave for the office early to avoid too much traffic and people. I went through my wardrobe and selected a dark grey two piece suit a white silk blouse and finally my best underwear - which always made me feel good.

My palms were wet as I left my flat; my neighbour was waiting at her door to wish me luck. Taking a deep breath I stepped outside. As I walked along the pavement I gained confidence, or so I thought. Until I saw the underground station. Reaching the road crossing where I had been knocked down, I saw the green man was illuminated indicating it was safe to cross. But I didn’t know how long it had been on, what if it turned red while I was half way across the road? I waited until it turned red, then green again, but I just stood rooted to the curb with beads of perspiration forming on my brow and upper lip.

I stood at the edge of the pavement while the light changed again to red. Cars, buses, motorcycles speeded passed and cyclists hurtled past me. A woman came and stood next to me, she smiled, something that just isn’t done in London, each commuter normally remaining cocooned in an invisible isolation bubble, neither speaking to or acknowledging the existence of others. That gave me courage, when the light turned to green I stepped forward thinking “please God, touch wood let me cross safely”.

I repeated the mantra until I reached the other pavement. I had not only made it across the road, I had also discovered how to remain safe. As I entered the underground station I repeated to myself “please God, touch wood let me be safe”. Throughout the journey I repeated “please God, touch wood let me be safe, please God, touch wood let me be safe”. It worked because I made it safely to the office. I was consequently happy to agree to return to my old job the following Monday.

The journey home was equally uneventful. I knew I was safe as long as I repeated my mantra. But it was a relief when I got back to my flat. I knew to ensure my safety I had to be methodical. On entering the flat I checked each room to ensure everything was in order. I switched on the lights to make sure they worked. I went back to each room to check I had switched off the lights. Then I made myself a cup of tea. To ensure nothing went wrong, as I waited for the kettle to boil, I counted the tiles on the wall above the sink unit. I knew I had to be careful, counting the tiles on the row from left to right, then the next row down from right to left. I knew if I continued to count each row from left to right I would go too far into the unknown future, while continuing to count from right to left would take me back to the danger of the past.

I became very careful. When typing at work I would ensure to save after every five words, and to make a backup to disc every ten lines. Leaving my desk I would double check that each draw was closed and locked; and any files or paper on the desk had to be not less than 3 cm from the edge of the desk. I wasn’t quite ready to go out for drinks after work, because I knew I had to keep a clear head.

I was surprised when my supervisor called me into his office to discuss my work performance. He suggested that people were concerned that I might no longer have the qualities necessary for my job, without being specific he suggested I might consider seeking help. He told me to take two weeks paid leave in which time I might discuss any problems I might have with my doctor or a councillor. I was puzzled why a councillor - I was completely in control of my life, as long as I meticulously followed all the things I knew worked to keep me safe.

To be continued tomorrow - Bookmark this page

YesBut count on me - Part 1

Bart was the first winner of YesBut’s Images Caption of the Week Award with his caption for the photo posted on 19th June 2007:

“84 squares, 85 square, 86 squares, orange and green blockades . . . ? Oh crap, now I‘ve lost count . . . 1 square, 2 squares . . .”

This story is dedicated to Bart:

I know my mother was worried about me, I think she expected me, one day to phone her to say I was pregnant or I had had an abortion. I was perhaps typical of a twenty-five year old working in the City of London. We worked hard and played hard. Many mornings I got back to my flat with just enough time to take a quick shower and change my cloths before going to work.

I only have a very limited memory of the day that changed my life. The evening before I had come home late from work, we had a report to finalize for a client. After a shower I went to bed and slept soundly. In fact I slept too well and was later than normal leaving for work. I remember walking to the underground station. I arrived at the road crossing just as the green man went off and the red man was illuminated. I had just about enough time to rush safely across the road. What happened next I have to rely on conflicting witness statements. Some said the motorcyclist jumped the lights others said he was quick off the mark when the light turned green.

The next memory I have was being in hospital three weeks later. I had been unconscious for three days and in the intense care unit for ten days. I was to remain in hospital for just under three months, while I recovered from a compound fractured left leg, broken left wrist, fractured ribs, one puncturing my lung, and a fractured skull - quite a mess.

It is only in times of need you find out who your friends are. And when I came out of hospital they rallied around me to provide support and assistance. They did my shopping cleaning and took turns to keep me company. But as time passed I saw fewer of them. Soon I was relying on my neighbour to do all my shopping, and to accompany me when I went for checkups at the hospital. After five months my medical care was transferred to my own General Practitioner. After a further two months my GP said I was fit to return to work. But I wasn’t ready and persuaded him to give a medical certificate for another month. At the end of the month I received a letter from my employers asking me to contact the Personnel Manager. I phoned and was asked to go to the office to discuss my future. I tried to make excuses but the Personnel Manager was adamant, if I wanted to retain my job, I had to attend the meeting.

For the first time I had to admit to myself, I had completely lost my self-confidence, since my accident I had never left my flat alone and I knew I was frightened to do so. But I also knew I couldn’t afford to lose my job. I phoned my neighbour and asked her to come with me. She came up to my flat and I tearfully explained to her my predicament. She took my hand and said she had been happy to do my shopping and when I became mobile accompanied me to the shops, but now was the time for her to be cruel to be kind, it was now time for me to venture out by myself.

To be continued tomorrow - Bookmark this page