1. If your name isn’t Joynina K. Jones, you have NO RIGHT to read this! Please put it down now!
2. If your name isn’t Joynina K. Jones, and you’re still holding this, please return it to me IMMEDIATELY *
3. If your name is Joynina K. Jones, but YOU ARE NOT ME, please follow advice stated in 1 or 2 above. Preferably 2*
4. If you are AMELIA-MAE, every word here is TRUE!!!
5. If you are Jamal, somebody else added those bits, not me!!
*PLEASE NOTE, IF YOU DO RETURN THIS, I WILL SHOW HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE IT BY GIVING YOU A SMALL GIFT TO SAY A BIG THANK YOU!!!
Sunday 8th June
I really didn’t plan on starting a journal.
I was MADE to!
No, that’s not quite fair.
I was encouraged to, by the smiley nurse with a thousand freckles.
She pulls up a chair to my bed, and says, in what I think is meant to be a professional but sympathetic tone, “You’ve been through
a tough time these last two weeks. I think you could do with something nice.”
And I’m thinking, I haven’t eaten in daaaayyyys!
I’m feeling much better now, but the consultation with the doctor was running soooo late that I ended up missing lunch, and I’d love nothing more than something nice, like bread-and-butter pudding with custard. It won’t be as tasty as the one my grandma makes, but the ward volunteer who takes our menu choices says it tastes good.
But Miss Nurse doesn’t offer me dessert. Instead, she says, “I’ve got something here to help you write down your feelings.” And she gives me this diary.
I think, Excusez-moi, Miss Nurse. I don’t want to get my feelings down on paper. They are MY FEELINGS. Owned by me, thank you.
I wonder if I can refuse, but Mum is smiling at the nurse and saying, “Wonderful! I’m
sure that will cheer Joynina up, no end!” Dad is a bit more serious, but he’s saying, “Good idea –as long as she keeps it real,” which is one of his favourite sayings. I know I’ll be in for a five-hour LECTURE if I say no.
So, I take it all politely and give a noncommittal shrug.
Mum gives me one of those looks she has for moments like this. “Joynina!” she says. “You didn’t thank the nurse. And it’s so lovely of her to think of this.”
And the nurse says, “Oh don’t worry! I’m sure Joynina has a lot on her mind without having to think of saying thank you to me!”
You would have thought I was NOT IN THE ROOM a kid and not 13.
The nurse tells me that I only need to use it if I WANT to. That it’s for ME, not anyone else, but she’s sure – very sure – that it’ll help me to PROCESS MY FEELINGS, and she’d be so
glaaad to know it helps. And she pronounced glad just like that – with a very elongated vowel sound.
Miss Nurse says I’m good to go home now, and I can go back to school in a few days’ time, and she gives me a list of GUIDELINES TO FOLLOW.
1. Drink lots of water.
2. Don’t forget to take my medication.
3. Avoid anything that can cause pain, like stress or rainy, damp, cold weather.
I look at her and think, We live in Britain! Damp, rainy conditions are part of everyday life! But I just say yes. Maybe I can make it half diary –about my day, and half journal – about my thoughts. I don’t know, I really didn’t plan on starting a journal.
Monday 9th June 10:45 a.m.
Home now. Our neighbours, Mr and Mrs Demetriou, are out at the front, tinkering with the engine of their old car. It’s a beautiful car, but