Read Online By My Side by Alice Peterson - Free Book Online

see how we interact with the dogs. When I saw Ticket for the first time since that day when he’d jumped into my lap, my feelings hadn’t changed. If anything they’d grown deeper. He’d charged over and sniffed my boring old shoes, my tracksuit and wheelchair as if they were the most exciting things ever, and then he’d covered my hand in kisses. Lindsey, the head trainer, says it’s fairly clear from the assessment days which partners are going to get which dogs, but there’s always a small element of doubt. Occasionally we might not see what they see. But surely,
surely
I will get Ticket?
    I want to bring him home more than I’ve wanted anything for a long time. However, being away from Mum and Dad is a plunge into darkness.
    I’m nervous about so many things, but not being able to go to the loo properly is one of the worst side effects of spinal cord injury, almost worse than not being able to walk. London for the day is manageable but this is a whole fortnight. What if I have an accident?
    After being in Stoke Mandeville for a few days, I realised I hadn’t gone to the bathroom. I also knew, from my student days, that something else was terribly wrong but it still came as a shock when Georgina explained that when the spinal cord is damaged, you can no longer feel or control your bladder and bowels.
    I close my eyes, remembering how Georgina had talked to me about how to manage my bladder and bowel movement.
    ‘What I’ll be teaching you is how to use an intermittent catheter,’ she said in her usual matter-of-fact way. ‘You’ll need to be rigid about how much you drink, learn what your limit is. I suggest every three to four hours you’ll need to empty your bladder with one of these.’ She was holding up something that looked like a drinking straw. ‘They’re single use and you must keep them sterile. When you’re inserting a foreign agent into your bladder there’s a risk of infection.’
    I shudder, recalling my first lesson with her. I was lying on the bed with my legs spread apart, inserting the straw-like catheter into my bladder, via the uretha, Georgina towering over me, saying, ‘Up a bit. No! Down a bit!’ Georgina didn’t pick up on how upset and uncomfortable I was, or if she did, she ignored it. All I could think about during that lesson was how unnatural and degrading it was and that I had to do this for ever. I even wished I were a man. At least they could see what they were doing.
    ‘You’ll get the hang of it, Cass,’ she said. ‘Believe me, there’ll come a time when you don’t even think about it. It’ll be as simple as brushing your teeth.’
    I remained silent. It was the only time I was truly relieved that my relationship with Sean was over. It was all so unsexy.
    ‘With the bowel,’ Georgina continued, ‘you might find it’s more sluggish so the best way to deal with this is to manage it by making yourself “go” on a regular schedule, say every morning at the same time. It can be a good idea to take some laxatives the night before to help things along but you can minimise this by drinking lots of fluids and eating a high fibre diet and staying as active as possible.’
    Georgina ended the lesson saying, ‘You’re lucky, Cass, because a lot of injured people can’t use a catheter independently. No one will know you even have one, so don’t look so glum, my dear.’
    I open my eyes when I hear footsteps outside my bedroom.
    ‘Cass, supper … oh, what are you doing?’ Mum looks at the empty suitcase on the floor. ‘Why haven’t you packed?’
    ‘I’ll do it later.’
    Mum stands at the door. ‘You’ll need lots of warm clothes. Winter’s here already,’ she says, dressed herself in a chunky-knit polo neck with jeans. It’s the end of October.
    ‘Um.’
    Mum places her hands on her hips. ‘Are you scared?’
    ‘No.’ She can read me so well now.
    She raises an eyebrow.
    ‘Yes,’ I say. That knotted feeling in my stomach won’t go away.
    She