What's Your Story?: The Stroke Association

What’s Your Story?

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Published by Writing on the Wall Copyright Š remains with the authors, 2013 Writing on the Wall info@writingonthewall.org.uk 0151 703 0020 www.writingonthewall.org.uk

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What’s Your Story? 2013

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Contents Foreword............................................................................................i

Ste Duncan ........................................................................................ 1 Bill Coady .......................................................................................... 3 David Blood ....................................................................................... 5 Frances Hargreaves ......................................................................... 8 Ian Collins ........................................................................................ 10 Liv Cheveau ..................................................................................... 16 Roy Pottinger .................................................................................. 22 Mo Russell ....................................................................................... 25 Phil Dean ......................................................................................... 29

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Foreword The stroke survivors whose work you are about to read are inspirational on many levels. But here it is their writing and the power of their art and their words that inspires. Anger mixes easily with humour, heart-wrenching stories with uplifting poems and prose, revealing a once latent talent rising from the struggle to be heard.

The stroke survivors here took part in a six-week writing course led by writer and spoken word artist Curtis Watts. The group members, although sceptical at first about their abilities, worked hard throughout the course to find a way to express themselves. That they have achieved this to such a high degree is a testament to the leadership of Curtis, and to their own incredible spirit and honesty, which shines through on every page of this book, and their generosity in supporting each other through every step of their recovery.

We would like to thank Curtis Watt, Kate Charles and all of the team at the Merseyside Stroke association, and the stroke survivors, for sharing the enthusiasm and their wonderful writing and artwork.

Mike Morris & Madeline Heneghan Writing on the Wall.

Foreword i

Ste Duncan Bang!

Through kaleidoscope hazy eyes That tears have strained Try to make out faces But confusion still reigns I’m in a hospital bed what does it mean In a hospital ward isn’t a dream Now its weeks later, I’m at home in the sun Can’t even walk never mind run Try to put your socks on, it’s so easy to do My fingers won’t work, it’s easy for you It’s decision time now, where do I go?

I’m going to fight it I already know I’ve got family and friends, they do their part, But it’s up to me I know in my heart So here we go, it’s a very long road, But a strong man like me can carry this load When life throws up hurdles & in doesn’t seem fair, Well you see it isn’t, so there.

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David Blood

David Postlethwaite

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Bill Coady Goal All that mattered was scoring a goal And of course making sure the other lot didn’t Whoever scored could walk home head held high It would not matter if you were late home for tea If you scored Especially if no windows were broken The game lasted until the policeman blew the whistle Which was when he was fed up with complaints from Residents in the street Or when his Sergeant was.

Later in life the goal changed To earning enough money to keep a family Or buy a drink Which was easier if you played for Everton or Liverpool!

That was the main goal We all thought we could make the big time Especially the scorer!

Later in life the goal changed To just trying to get my legs working properly again!

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Ste Duncan

Eric Wilson

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David Blood A Stroke Survivors Tale Argh what has just happened? I can’t move, Jan looks worried, there’s fear in her eyes.

It’s ok Day, try not to panic. 999 send an ambulance quick.

Gill come round it’s your Day, I can’t move him.

Keep your eyes open Day they will get here soon.

They put me in a wheelchair. Bang! That was the couch!

Jan is Leo asleep? Will you ring me Boss? Oh, has my car been locked?

Don’t be worrying about work you nutter.

David you’re in the ambulance now, we will soon be on our way God I hate being called David. Me mum calls me that when I’m being a pain. ‘DAVID’, you know what I mean Just a small injection Dave, you may feel a scratch.

Oh that’s good I can’t feel that side, so they go and put it in my good side.

Jan get his name, when I move he’s going to get it, ha ha.

Blues and twos, we’re on our way 5

Jan if I get through this will you marry me?

Yes I will Day you’re going to be fine It’s a suspected Stroke take him right through.

Can you swallow take a drink for me?

Hi Dave, it’s Dr Kumar, we need to scan you, try and stay calm if you can.

We found a clot, we need to give you an injection to disperse it.

Ooh that feels warm, ahh time to sleep.

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Bill Coady

John Rae

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Frances Hargreaves I’m going shopping dear, I said For a pint of milk and a loaf of bread Some bits and pieces, this and that I’ll go upstairs for my coat and hat.

Then I collapsed upon the bed A fire was burning in my head An ambulance was called, and they Drove me to Aintree, right away I woke up in a hospital bed My family thought that I was dead For three long months I lay there I could not wash myself or comb my hair I could not eat, I could not talk And I found I couldn’t even walk They sent me home in a chair And I find that I’m still sitting there I’m grateful that I feel no pain Though I know life won’t be the same again But with friends and family you’ll pull through And now it’s simply only up to you.

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Frances Hargreaves

Nell Hewitt

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Ian Collins Don't be afraid It's been 2 weeks since I was here I'm trying to get over my writing fear Writing away I feel such a fool God I should have done more at school Jotting away making lines rhyme Sometimes it takes a long, long time Making words up and squeezing them in There's another poem going in the bin If a line comes in the middle of the night Get me a pen before it's out of sight Then I wake cos morning calls To find I've written all over the walls So get those creative juices going And all your feelings will start flowing But don't be afraid to jot away Just make sure it's in the light of day.

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Frank McEvoy

Roy Pottinger

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Stroke Walking Looking at the sky last night I saw the moon all cold and bright To think men have walked its face I can't even fasten my lace Gazing up I forget to look around Next thing I know I'm on the ground.

People look as I have a laughing fit Oh, that smell, I've sat in dog s**t.

I just tripped getting on the side All that's hurt is my pride.

I brush myself down and walk away I'll live to see another day.

Looking up and walking with a stroke Is no laughing matter or even a joke The moral of this story's vast Men just can't multi-task.

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Pat Graham

Bob Lloyd

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My Stroke Poem A Stroke can effect anyone black, white, young or old It can be a silent killer that leaves you out in the cold One day you're fit and strong the next your unfit and weak People try to help you but all you want to do is weep Inside you remember what you could do Cycling, swimming, walking Now you’re getting praised for just two words of talking The doctors, nurses and staff are always on your side Keeping their eyes on you so you never start to slide.

Friends and family come to see you All crying and wishing you well.

People who haven't seen you for years visit you when you look like hell Then after 3 months in hospital you’re allowed back into civilisation It's all very strange and different, and you do things with some trepidation What still hurts most of all is what I put my family through My wife, daughter and son, without them I'd have never pulled through So after 8 long years of battle with the stroke and depression I'm just trying to get my head together, helped by the Stroke Association.

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Eric Wilson

Frank McEvoy

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Lin Cheveau Void black hole Abyss, endless night Rejected and Dejected Can’t talk, can’t communicate or love My mind is a mist Emptiness, loneliness My emotion’s a veil A shroud, a caul which can’t be shaken off I am a tear that with other tears Drowns itself in silent waters I am misery But I must go forward Not into Nothingness Let a chink of daylight in to lighten the night Let sunshine wrap me in its arms like a lovers caress I reach out of my despair To you Out of the shadows of my pain

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Roy Pottinger

Sandra Vernon

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The Rose Like a babe from the womb The rose is born In breath-taking beauty She greets the morn With coyness, she lifts her head Sensual petals Blood-stained and red And lifts out her leaves To the sunlight As though saying ‘Take me I’m yours’ The sunlight casts shadows On the rose so fair Saying, ‘The rays are for all things you will have to share’ She genuflects her petals And bows her head Wrinkled petals that once were red Folds leaves and stem Like a shroud to hide Her beauty, now faded This rose has died

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We are Liverpool Hard-faced Liverpool Noble buildings Standing tall & straight But beggars crouched Beneath their bricks, say ‘We are Liverpool’ Museums and Universities Stand intellectually proud As people gape at them in awe But prostitutes are walking by them And say tartly ‘We are Liverpool’ Hospitals stand big Comforting, caring But can’t they hear The voices of their patients Wheezing, coughing, say ‘We are Liverpool’ The River Mersey glides along Sun dappled like the stars, Boats hoot, tugs toot, Where once liners were built, saying ‘We are what’s left of Liverpool’ I stand here and watch Liverpudlians like myself, go by See the glorious buildings stand And the slums that say ‘I am Liverpool – so what’ And I say, ‘so what, so am I’ 20

Frances Hargreaves

Ste Duncan

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Roy Pottinger Boa Constrictor Fatigue, like a constricting snake Seems to sap my vitality A legacy left to me in perpetuity How long will it take?

How long must I wait?

A boiling kettle of aggression Is fuelled by my frustration To maintain a war of attrition As my soul is starved of volition Time will tell, just wait and see But time is running out for me.

I’ve always waited in a hurry you see Now it’s time for amnesty To stand the pace!

I need to get the fragments of my mind in place I’m not angry!

I just perceive the world as it is, you see And not how you would have me believe it to be Like an out of tune radio playing in my mind I keep moving the dial but I can’t seem to find Or clear the static from my head As I struggle to connect the slender thread Like a piece of rhubarb that can’t make up its mind Whether to be sweet or sour I confront the world with both a smile and a glower 22

Here’s a purpose with a man behind And a very sharp axe to grind Life goes on, they keep telling me And with those words I suppose I must agree And really god knows, I can’t complain I can walk, I can talk, I can deal with the pain I just wish the snake would let me go So that life can resume its ebb and flow.

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Dave Blood

Leonard Hilton

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Mo Russell I saw her life slipping away from her She kept forgetting Looking at photographs Saying ‘who’s that?’

When it was a member of the family That she was pointing to I saw her life slipping away from her She’d still be driving Mounting the pavement Going through red lights Not being able to start the car ‘There’s something wrong with it’, she’d say I saw her life slipping away from her She’d go to bed before six And come down two and a half hours later Saying ‘good morning’ I’d have to tell her that it was 8.30 at night.

I saw her life slipping away from her She went into a Nursing home She looked lost That was one of the hardest things That I’ve ever had to do But it had to be done I saw her life slipping away from her I came to see her one morning She looked really lovely Lying in bed her eyes wide open I was talking to her But her life had slipped away from her.

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Alan Jones

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Phlegm I have a young nephew called Jem And his throat was all covered in phlegm He’d cough and he’d cough Till the phlegm all flew off And now all he says is ‘ahem’.

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Leonard Hilton

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Phil Dean Headache-Stroke So hard to speak But they’re better off Communicate, Think, Talk My leg and arm move As right as they can be My leg and arm move Why, oh Why?

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John Rae

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