chapter 24

Jimmy was seriously ill in hospital.
However, Mary's leaving him just when he needed her most sunk him into a deep depression. He was so depressed he did not notice or understand what was going on most of the time. He just felt completely numb. Meanwhile, he was hooked up to all kinds of machinery and tubes. He had no interest over what they did. He wasn't even sure if they shouldn't have just left him there alone in the house to die.
He had someone fussing over him every day and often through the night as well.
The nurses were always wanting to take blood or take the pressure of his blood. He didn't know why that was so important. He had to have a shower every day. If he said it was too difficult, one of the nurses would come into the shower with him to assist. They would be fully clothed and no doubts got soaked, but that was of no concern of his. If he said he couldn't be bothered to shower, they would giving him a bed bath.
The nurses would not let him just sit, or just lie. He had to keep off his sores. He had to stay off his bottom and lie on alternate sides. They liked him to go for a short walk, every two hours minimum. It didn't have to be far, just to the window and back.
The physio supplied him with a Zimmer frame to made walking easier for him and showed him how to use it. At first, he wanted nothing to do with it. Zimmer frames were for old farts, not for young idiots like himself.
The doctors saw him on their rounds at least every day. He often could not hear or understand what they were talking about at the bottom of his bed. They would change his medication, then change it again to something different the next day. The doctors were the most scathing of all the professions he came across. They lectured him on diabetes, heart disease, thrombosis and other complications, but one good thing about depression was he could simply tune out. It was like turning the volume down on the radio.
He saw a social worker. She noted down his home circumstances, then left. Jimmy doubted he'd ever see her again.
Home circumstances. What were they? He had nothing. No wife, no friends, no house, no job, no income. No purpose. They might as well have just left him where he was. He wasn't worth saving.
The dietician saw him and lectured him on what was healthy and what was unhealthy. He was no fool. He knew what he was supposed to eat, but he didn't tell her how much he liked to be full of unhealthy fried foods with lots of sugar. He didn't tell her how much Coke he drank because he knew it was excessive and he knew she would be shocked. He yearned for one of Mary's shakes. Chocolate flavour. Nice and sweet and creamy, filling yet they made him want more. Instead he had to eat bland salads and boring mass produced food cooked on a shoestring.
He didn't even want to eat it, he wasn't hungry. There wasn't much point. But he knew they were monitoring him. They were writing down everything he ate down to the last mouthful. They monitored his fluid intake, they monitored his movements. He was scrutinised every moment of every day. There was no escape.
He didn't push himself hard. He did the absolute minimum in every way. He needed reminding often.
His weight was falling. He was weighed every morning. They were even concerned his weight could be falling too rapidly. That was one of their topics they discussed at the end of his bed one day.
Jimmy did not feel involved with what was happening to him. He still had not regained control over his life. Other people were controlling it for him and he was allowing them to do it. He did only what he was told to do.
He needed counselling. They all knew that, a referral had been done, but they were so busy that it would be months before he even received an assessment.

So there he was, in a kind of inner stasis. Outwardly he was making improvements. His wounds were healing, his weight was falling, his blood results were improving. He was moved from high dependency to acute care to rehabilitation. Yet he didn't care what happened to him.

Eventually he saw a psychologist and had his assessment.
Jim blamed Mary for everything. The pstchologist referred him for counselling. That would take just as long to come through. In the mean time he was on his own.

Eventually, he was assigned a disabled bungalow. It had two bedrooms so that a carer could stay over if necessary. It was fully furnished, within walking distance of the local shops, on a frequent bus route. His benefits had been sorted out with social security and the housing office. He would have to live on a tight budget, but, his rent and other bills were taken care of.
Jim was supposed to ring certain agencies to provide him with other things he would need to live there, such as bed linen and certain items of furniture that were missing. When he didn't do it, someone else did it for him.
They had organised a carer to look in on him three times a day. He had a home help come in twice a week to do his cleaning, laundry and shopping.
He even had someone pick out some new clothes from the charity shop for him, paid for by charitable funds.

He was in fact capable of doing all those things. He had lost five stones. He could walk, he could bend, he could stretch. He could get himself up in the morning, he could shower and dress himself. He could stand in the kitchen and cook a meal. He could get on the bus, go to the big supermarket and do his own shopping, never mind, just going to the local shops. But he chose not to do anything, unless he was told to. He didn't need a wheelchair if a Zimmer frame, yet he had both.
His apathy seemed to be ingrained in him.
Counselling did not help because he ignored their advice. He was referred on to other psychological specialists.

The referral came though surprisingly quickly. Jim had to be taken to the appointment, otherwise he said he wouldn't go.
Reception looked a bit posh, but it was no different from any other waiting room. He didn't even notice the pretty receptionist, a little too plump in her formal suit that was a little too tight for her.
After a short wait, jimmy was told to go in. At this point he had to leave his carer behind. Rather nervously, he walked, as slowly as he could to the consultant's room.
As soon as he saw the man who introduced himself just as 'jason' jimmy's eyes stood out. The man was massive! He must have been thirty stones or more. He sat on a large substantial stool because he could no longer sit in a chair with arms. He sat with his legs apart to accommodate his giant belly that almost reached to the floor.
His clothes had to be especially made for him. His three piece suit looked smart, despite the size of it. There was no sign of it being too tight anywhere.
Jimmy immediately took to Jason. Jason's approach was different. Clearly he enjoyed his food. Jimmy opened up to him. Jason recognised the problem immediately. Jimmy was a feedee without a feeder. Mary had taught him to be lazy. She had done everything for him, up to a point... he had become completely subservient to her. He'd given up everything for her, only to be left stranded when he could no longer do anything for himself.
Well, he had come to the right person. This was the kind of case Jason loved! Jimmy would be glad he'd come to him for help!
And that help was going to begin today!
Jason wheeled his stool over to his desk and pressed his intercom. He said something into it, then shortly, the plump receptionist arrived with a tray of iced doughnuts. She placed them on a small table next to Jim. She couldn't help herself helping herself to one with pink icing before she left.
"Would you like a doughnut?" Jason asked. "Mmm, they look so delicious, I'm going to have one too!" Jason selected one and bit into it. Cream oozed out the sides, but he deftly licked it up before it fell onto his suit.
Jim had hardly taken his eyes off the sweet delicacies since they had entered the room. He took one and started eating. Oh, it felt good! After only one bite, he could feel his body lurch at the taste of the sugar. He'd not felt this way for months!
Jason picked up and ate a second doughnut. He ate it quicker than the first, he suddenly had his huge appetite back again, but all he wanted was doughnuts. He started to push them in, force them in. They were so delicious! After half a dozen, he felt like he couldn't eat any more. Jason was still eating, although he had eaten his doughnuts at a much steadier rate.
Jim picked up his seventh doughnut. He felt rather nauseous. His stomach had shrunk in the time he'd been in hospital. At one time he could have eaten the whole tray and not thought anything of it. He bit into it ignoring the nausea, ignoring the signals that told him to stop when he was full. He wanted to be so full of rich, sugary doughnuts that his belly swelled up so much that he could hardly breathe.
Jason kept watching and eating. He had an enormous appetite and an even bigger capacity.
He knew exactly what he was going to do with his new protégée. And it was not how any other health professional would treat him. No. Jason's methods were very unconventional!