Courage of a different kind.....

It had taken months and months of courage to get to a stage where by my mind had been overcome with thoughts of self-doubt, disbelief and above all an overpowering urge to divert my journey to the pub. It was only 11am and I had only been walking a few minutes; it seemed much longer. My legs felt heavy; in all probability was a consequence of the icy conditions underfoot, rather than my nervous disposition, or maybe was a combination of both.

I could hear the noise of wheels turning, some slowly, others quickly. I could hear the desperation in people’s voices, gasping, appearing to catch their final breath. I tried to concentrate on speaking to the woman behind the desk; she was pale in complexion, bordering on ghost like. As she moved around the small space she occupied, her arms and legs became visible; frail with tightly wrapped skin around her frame. I spent several seconds trying to guess this womans age and after what seemed a long deliberation I decided she must have been in her early forties, although looked much older. She was dressed formally, in a plain brown skirt and a delicate fitted white blouse which sat neatly across her shoulders; a long flow of blonde hair stopped short at the collar. Her manner was friendly and pleasant, much to my surprise and did not match her serious appearance. She certainly was not the type of person whom I would have expected to work in a place like this.

The corridor that led from the desk was long and narrow without any windows. The walls were constructed of brick that had been painted in white which gave that clinical feeling to the building. As I made my way towards the solid double doors in the distance, the disturbing sounds became more prominent. I tightened the grip on the small but heavy bag that had accompanied me on this journey and following a brief hesitation, bravely pushed open the door with my free hand.

The smell was unkind to my senses. It reminded me of returning home after several days away and opening the laundry basket that still contained garments to be washed. The room would have been extremely spacious, if it were not for the high volume of contraptions available to help people. I was saddened to see so many people present. I felt small beads of sweat emerge from my forehead, as a sense of insecurity overwhelmed me. Although not alone, I felt so alone.

My attention was drawn to an old man; lying down, face up, on what looked to be a black bed, covered in a white towel. His legs were propped up by a device protruding overhead. His breathing was deep and loud, his chest rattled as he struggled for breath.

My observations were interrupted by a slim young woman whom approached me.
“I’m Jenny, Welcome; have you been to the gym before?”


©arlton Relf Feb2010