life in the darkness

September 2008. A student sits in highschool. Dreaming of becoming a language interpreter. One of the ones on the news. But also, she had other ideas. One she knew would probably never happen. Watching the trauma programmes every time they were on tv. She’d watched Casualty for years on tv, so learned medical terminology. She used to go to st John as a cadette. Passing a CPR exam with 100% in 2004. But could she? Would it ever happen? Whilst she sat at the table, trying to revise for her French and german GCSEs, she was thinking about other things on her mind. What mood was Ogden in? Would she bother to do her homework that day? She decided she couldn’t be bothered. What was the point, when all the time, she was told, no. You can’t. You can’t as you have to go to university. You have to revise and achieve. But she knew, somewhere, somehow, she could. No one was helping her. But could they? Would they turn up?

College was approaching and she didn’t pass her exams with the grades she was hoping for. Again, they told and showed her, she wouldn’t amount to much. Would she ever be able to achieve the things she wanted too? She set her sights on singing. Was that possible? Was her other talent possible? Perhaps… Perhaps if she could… Then… Maybe it could take her towards… But maybe not. THERE was still that voice, you have to see. You can’t. Insurance policies. Insurance, insurance. Insurance, health and safety. Epilepsy… Just more. More of it coming into the way. More barriers in her way. Perhaps like she thought those years earlier, it would never happen. Perhaps her standing there at the foot of someone’s bed, saving their life, their life in her hands, their golden hour, would not be reached! She put it at the back of her mind, concentrating on her singing. Again though, that was something unreachable. Again, no! No! No! Like margaret thatcher. No! She then read A practising blind Physician by Dr Cordes. A practising blind.. Blind… Blind.. It could be done? Wow! Filling with excitement. She tried desperately to get in touch. Where was this guy? How can I get hold of him! I need to speak with him! Help me please!! She scroled through the internet. Tim cordes. Dr Tim Cordes. She found his hospital, but there was no email. Damn!!! Okay, she thought, I’ll do it in braille. carefully she put the paper into her perkins and began writing. Dear Dr Cordes… And the letter went on! 2 pages of wide 11 by 11 braille paper. Her aspirations all out, on 2 pages! Question after question! How did you do it! Please help me to do it too! It wasn’t until 2023, that she would eventually, get hold of her medical hero. As she thought! But still, she tried. Care, no! Insurance. Yet again! She kicked off and went to the press! She knew how to bolus after 5 minutes of training. The sighted took a day to learn. Again, she tried. Hospice, No, because of your epilepsy. St John, no, you need someone with you at all times! Again, no and insurance echoing! But the Jacob Bolotin story was there. It could be done! Why now were they refusing people! That person is me. If they can do it, Cordes, Hartman, Stanly I think his name was, Bolotin. We can use our ears, our hands, our hearts! To save lives. To care. To be compassionate. To ease their distress! To show them we’re here. I’ll never leave their side! Not until they are calm. Stable. Eased of their pain. Of their suffering. Of their trauma. Of their injury. It’s doable, so please, let us in. Please help us, to help them! Barriers are like chess. You need to play the game right! Check mate at the end. Use your talent as an advantage. Bolotin sold brushes. I will sing. To help me. My degree with the OU. this year, i will graduate. Please God. Help me!