Jo was perusing the new trial papers that had come her way. It was a pretty cut and dried bank robbery case, which she ought to have been able to take the measure of straightaway. However, despite the second cup of coffee, her mind simply wasn't working properly. She had long experience in being able to winnow out the incidental from the essential, to follow the trail of evidence through to its conclusion , but the jigsaw just wasn't coming together. All the pieces were jumbled up against each other, and nothing made sense. She tried all her normal strategies to get a grip on the case but, unaccountably, they all failed. It was only when she gave up when the thoughts that had demanded her attention, finally forced their way through to centre stage. She surrendered to the inevitable, and with a groan of irritation, picked up the file and threw it on the floor.
The voice inside her head shrieked at her, demanding what in hell she should do about telling John or not as the case might be. She tried to adopt a balanced approach, to load the scales fairly on both sides of the argument, but her feelings seized command of her thought processes. All her instincts cried out to tell John. She had felt cold with shock, angry at George, and fearful for her all at the same time. She narrowly resisted reaching for a huge slug of whisky, and downing it in one go, anything to block off her feelings. As George had gone on to explain the reasoning for her actions, she had to admit that they made sense in a cockeyed sort of way. She could understand George's total fear of telling John. At once, all her sympathies rallied round John.
Her frantic mind leapt onwards at breakneck speed, and pictured John at Warwick University in total blissful ignorance of what was going so drastically wrong with George's life. He had been happy, serene, as Jo saw him off in his car as he set off to Warwick. The expression on John's face was of a man at peace with himself, sure of himself and his bearings in the world. In particular, he was content that she could look after George and, by implication, whatever was worrying her. The hideous irony of the situation was that she was hard pressed to come to terms with her own reaction to the situation, let alone look after anyone else, either physically or spiritually. She could vividly remember her own feelings of fear and helplessness when her own husband had been first diagnosed with cancer. It felt that a lynchpin which had held together her own world had been knocked out with one cruel blow leaving everything in her own life to fall apart. The next moment, everything seemed like a bad dream, that she would wake up and that married life would carry on with her two small children, much though it had done so for years. It was all a bad mistake, and that the hospital, the doctor, the summons to a private room, the sympathetic tones would just go away. Of course, she was a lot younger then but at that age, she thought that she was pretty grown up and mature.
Was it only recently that John's puzzled voice articulated a conundrum that he could not make sense of? "My precise words to her were that I just wished that she would talk to me and the answer was and I quote 'I can't, not yet, anyway.'" The bitter irony of the situation as seen from both sides was not lost on Jo. At face value, all it appeared was that George had a problem in communicating something but that, given time, all would be clear. In reality, time had been trickling dangerously away towards the point of no return. Only by sheer chance, was that moment seized and at least, George would live. That was the best that could be said of the situation, Jo reflected as waves of emotions flooded through her. The worst of the situation was too overwhelming to sit down, and calmly list as items in a balance sheet.
A lightning bolt of command struck her. She needed someone she could talk to. But who could she talk to? At that moment, she was intensely envious of the Larkhall womens support group. She had seen them at a distance, the way they were there for each other of one of them had their troubles. She was always just out of reach, destined to spend lonely hours complete with law books and files. She, along with George now, was their saviour but that didn't bring her any closer. She felt that she couldn't just pick up the phone to call on Yvonne, or Cassie or Nikki………but she could call on Karen.
A smile of satisfaction spread across her face as the options opened up and she listed them one by one. For a start, she knew the situation and for another, she had been a nurse, which gave her that professional tie in. For good measure, she had been George's lover and was closer than any of them to John. A golden glow of contentment spread through her, better than any whisky. She might not see how she could tell John, but she had laid hold of a possible opportunity. She picked up the phone and dialed the number.
"I've got a problem, Karen, and I wanted to ask your opinion. It's about George's breast
cancer." Jo started in abruptly, just as Karen poured her a cup of coffee, and before either
of them had a chance to light a cigarette. Karen glanced over at Jo with more concern
than was obvious. Jo had that coiled up, tensed energy about her that was ready to spring
loose at any moment.
"You got the right word, Jo." Karen answered with dry understatement to conceal her
own tension running through her. Now that she was dealing with someone else's
problems, curiously enough she became calmer.
"Well, what do I do about telling John? I can't even begin to deal with this."
Karen said nothing, as Jo pressed her hands to her head. She would have to take the
initiative. Her mind took her, uninvited, back to the faded memories of her nursing days
and her eyes gazed out of the window. A lot of her recollections were of a generalized
tired blur, punctuated by good memories of the patients whom her nursing skills helped
to heal, and the bad memories of those who died on her. Her mind's eye saw the scenery
as she looked on while the registrar or the surgeon told the patient the bad news. A
younger Ric Griffin peeked his face out of the memory kaleidoscope and, no matter, how
caring his bedside manner, there was only so far that he could protect the patient. Funnily
enough, a surprisingly large number of them either suspected or knew how much their
bodies were failing them. What Karen had found infinitely painful to deal with was
maintaining her professional manner in front of patient's relatives. They were shocked,
dazed or plain hurting inside when the worst of all possible news was broken to them.
There was no magic formula, nothing you could plan for except that each person situation
was unique.
"So what on earth do I say to John?" Jo repeated to the other woman who looked as if she
were half here.
"I'm sorry, Jo." Karen excused herself as her eyes became sharp and alert again. "What
were you saying"
"About John. How do I tell him? I've tried everything but everything I think of sounds
either heartless or totally false"
This dragged Karen back to the present. Of course, John was no ordinary patient but a
dear friend of all of them. It was this that made it so hard for all of them.
"Sometimes, conversations like this aren't planned or they shouldn't be. Sometimes the
words find themselves when it came to the crunch." Started Karen, slowly and
reflectively. Instantly, she realized the false step she had taken, as she could see that she
had only pushed Jo into a greater panic than before. Karen was suggesting that Jo should
go into the most dangerous arena of the emotions totally naked when, more than any
other occasion, she needed protection and certainty, both for herself as well as John.
"I can't possibly do that. For a start, John is away lecturing at Warwick University and
I'll have to phone him. I can't see myself telling John anyway but it's far worse to phone
him. It feels so disembodied and impersonal"
"I can understand that, Jo but you have the choice of phoning now, or sitting on the
whole thing until he comes back. It will be hard enough to explain George's delay in
seeking medical help without you adding to the delay." Karen answered, with a trace of
firmness in her voice.
Jo turned white. Though well meant, these calm measured words had laid a huge guilt
trip on Jo.
"You have to tell John that you'll be there for John, especially when he gets back"
"That's obvious but that'll be no comfort to him." Came Jo's snappy comeback.
"Just how strong is John, both personally and in the public arena?" Karen pursued.
This brought up Jo short. It was clever of Karen to bracket both sides of John so neatly
together.
"I don't know, Karen." She confessed. "I've taken for granted how bold, so resolute he is
in standing up to the establishment. But this is George you're talking about, Karen. You
know how close they have become, after being at odds with each other. This couldn't
have come at a worse time. Just when John has found some stability in his life, along this
comes like some cruel trick of fate to taunt him"
"Sometimes people surprise you, Jo. At least that has been my experience as a nurse. I
got out of the profession because the bad experiences just built up in my mind and
became harder and harder to live with. At least that's the way I thought when I was
younger"
Jo kept quiet as she watched Karen edge her way forward, as if she had been blindfolded.
Only feel and intuition seemed to be directing her feet forward.
"Don't underestimate John. He is stronger than you think and sometimes than even he
thinks. You must have seen it for yourself." Karen said softly in slow mellow tones.
"Sometimes, Karen." Jo answered at last in stiff grudging tones.
"Then what is it that you're afraid of"
There was another long silence as the conflict of emotion played all over Jo's face
"I'm afraid that he'll do something reckless and self destructive while he's away"
"So when he's back, he'll be safer as he's on home territory and that is something you
can deal with"
"Something like that"
"It is a risk but you have to take. Don't forget, George is having her operation
tomorrow"
"There's another problem." Jo finally revealed." George has been telling me not to tell
John. She's terrified that she'll lose her attractiveness to John. You know John's attitude
to female beauty."
This brought Karen up short. She reached for her cigarette and before she was halfway
through, saw her way through that argument.
"I can understand how George is feeling, and I do not doubt for one minute what you say
about John but surely George is repeating her mistake in another form in not seeking
medical attention. John cannot be kept in the dark about something so vital to him when,
at the very least, both of us know. I strongly advise you that this has run quite long
enough. It simply cannot be left any longer. The clock is ticking. No matter how hard it
is, you must go for it, Jo and phone John"
"It sounds easy enough for you to say it. It's quite another matter for you to do it." Jo
eventually found her voice rather ruefully and resentfully. Her head was starting to rule
over her heart, but that made her feel uncomfortable. She couldn't help but think that
Karen was giving her advice from the sidelines. It was she who would have to face up to
it.
"Let's face it, Jo. I can very easily see how the roles could be so easily reversed, and I
would be arguing the other way"
"You're right, Karen." Jo responded stiffly with a brief half smile of encouragement. She
reached for another cigarette, half smoked it, and stubbed it out in Karen's ashtray.
'If you don't mind, I'll go home and sleep on it and phone John in the morning."
She let a visibly tired Jo make her way out the door, poured herself a large glass of spirits
and took the weight off her feet. She lay back in her chair exhausted by the intensity of
the experience and in dealing so expertly with an incredibly delicate dilemma. If only
dealing with her own life was as easy.