Page 128 - She's One Crazy Lady!

things were going your way, the timing was not on. I can remember how I felt the first time I felt a lump in my breast, so I really feel for you. It’s thirty years ago now but I can always remember the feeling that your heart had stopped and dropped into your stomach. Disbelief! No, I am imagining it. It will not be there tonight, but it is. At least you had the sense to get help straight away. The main thing is: ‘Think positive.’ Look forward to your new job. It isn’t going to be easy, but an awful lot of people are behind you and will support you. Whatever you do, don’t lose that smile you always have on your face. On the down days, think of all those ‘sponges’ of yours waiting for you to liven their days. You are part ‘Westley,’ and we are not going to let a thing like this beat us. Such kids at Highfields deserve a good teacher so hurry up and get well.
Our love is with you. xx Auntie Connie and Uncle Ray
So, there I was, left to my own devices, in a six-bedded bay on Ashton Ward which, at that time was on the fourth floor and the lifts were out of action so I was slightly hot and bothered when I arrived. The Senior Inspector from our school had kindly driven me in. It was very peaceful and very quiet with each bed occupied. I was inquisitive and wondered what the other five ladies were in for. My eyes turned to a silver-haired, elderly lady sitting up in a corner bed. She looked very focussed on something in front of her. She was plucking bits of cotton wool out of something, almost like, “he loves me, he loves me not” as the little clumps of cotton wool were placed on her bedcover. I then noticed another lady waving at me and realised I knew her from table tennis, so we chatted and compared notes as she had had a lumpectomy and was feeling fine, glad her op. was over. Curiosity got the better of me. I had to go over to see the lady with the cotton wool, who was still engrossed with her task, bits of it all over her covers. What was she doing?
Seeing me, she looked up, she said:
“Hello my dear. I’m Margaret. I’m 86 and I had my breast off yesterday.”
Oh, my goodness! 86? I was 46. This lady, Margaret, looked amazing, so incredibly calm, collected, and radiant – she had the loveliest of smiles. She looked so well too. Seeing her, I somehow knew I was going to be OK and that I was obviously in the very best of hands. I introduced myself and told her how fascinated I was about whatever it was she was doing.
“Well, my dear, they’ve given me a softie to wear to make me feel more comfortable and to replace my missing breast, but it resembles that of a sixteen-year old’s – you know, hard and pert and pointing outwards – she demonstrated with her hand. I’m 86 dear and my other boob is down here (pointing to her waist) so I’m taking bits out of the softie to make them match.”
She giggled and we were all laughing, for the others had picked up on what was said.
“I’m 86 dear and my other boob is down here (pointing to her waist) so I’m taking bits out of the softie to make them match.
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