Letters From Mallorca by Kevin Woodrow

7/31/2019 Letters From Mallorca by Kevin Woodrow

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Kevin Woodrow

L E T T E R S F R O M M A L L O R C A


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Copyright Kevin Woodrow

The right of Kevin Woodrow to be identified as author ofthis work has been asserted by him in accordance withsection 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may bereproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted inany form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior

permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relationto this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution andcivil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title isAvailable from the British Library.

ISBN 978 1 84963 360 42nd Edition 2012

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2009)Austin & Macauley Publishers Ltd.25 Canada Square

Canary WharfLondonE14 5LB

Printed & Bound in Great Britain
http://www.austinmacauley.com/http://www.austinmacauley.com/


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This book is dedicated to:

Aunty Rose,To whom I wrote the first letter 17

thNovember 2006, which

gave me the inspiration to produce this piece.

To my mate Steve,

The man who probably saved my life,

31st

October 2006.

To Gaye Baker,My cousin who gave me the idea to turn a desperate

Situation into the work you see before you now.

To my good friends Jean and Phil,

Without whose help I simply would not have survived.

To all the Nurses, Doctors, Security and Cleaning Staff

At Hospital Joan March,

Who became my Mallorcan Family.

To my Physiotherapist

Francisca Miquel Moranta

The girl I only knew for six months, but who definitely

became one of the most important women ever to have been

a part of my life.


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But most of all

This book is dedicated to: -

Nurse Maria Angeles

The girl who gave me the strength to carry on,

The woman who gave me light, when I could only see

darkness.

My Guardian Angel,

The girl who helped me through the pain.

I Thank You, and Love You All.

Kevin

X


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On the night of Friday 27th

I suddenly became very

cold, and asked my mate Steve if he had a blanket I could

borrow. Are you joking? he enquired.I wish I had been, for this was to be the beginning

of a three-day fever. Tonight would be my last night

working in Cagneys in 2006 and I spent the entire evening

wrapped in a blanket, while everyone else complained about

the heat!

For the next three days I was totally bedridden, and

can remember having arguments with people in the

bedroom who obviously were not there. The scariest ofthese by far was one of the Black Riders from the Lord of

the Rings trilogy, and I would be arguing with him for

hours. He was sitting in the corner of the room and in his

hands he was holding the biggest, sharpest sword I had ever

seen, and he was also constantly laughing at me! But the

scariest thing by far was when he threatened to kill me if I

couldnt drink a litre of water without needing to use the

toilet; which at the time was such a real threat, I was cold

and rigid with fear.

And so we reached Tuesday 31st

October -

Halloween. I had finally come out of the fever early in the

afternoon and looking at my foot, I was sickened to see a

mass of red puss staring back at me. I telephoned my mate

Steve and asked him, Can you fetch me a few things from

the chemist?

Luckily he had more sense. No Kev, you need to

go to the hospital, he replied. He told me to get myself

ready and he would take me to the casualty at Hospital Son

Duretta, situated in Mallorcas capital city of Palma. This

was a decision that was to save my life.

Thank you Steve.


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While I was waiting for my friend I tried to dress

myself, but found that as I tried to put on a sock, the skin on

my foot was actually peeling off, and a nasty foul smellingfluid was dripping from it and onto the floor. There was no

doubt about it - I was in big trouble!

Upon arrival at the hospital my mate went inside

and quickly returned with a wheelchair. I had never sat in

one before, but at the time of writing I have been living in

one ever since. It was difficult for me to get out of the jeep

and at the last moment my left foot touched the floor, the

pain was excruciating! I didnt know it then but this wouldbe the last time my left foot would ever touch solid ground

again! Steve wheeled me into the casualty department

where I could see the people inside were staring at me in

disbelief and Im sure they thought it was all some kind of

Halloween stunt. I could also see that even the nurses were

horrified!

At this point I lost my mate Steve, but later found

he had been talking with a foot specialist who told him,

Mr. Hobbs, your friend has the worst infection that I have

ever seen. She later told me the same but also added, I am

very sorry but I think you will lose at least two toes

tonight.

The next time I saw her was about two hours later

when in the operating theatre, where she actually performed

the procedure. She sadly told me a little later, I am really

sorry but I had to amputate all of your toes.

When the operation was completed I was taken to

the recovery room, where I must admit to shedding my first

tears. After about two hours I was taken upstairs to Room

325.


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R o o m 3 2 5

The next day I found myself sharing room 325 witha very strange man, who if he ever did exist, looked just like

our Lord Jesus Christ. He had a strange kind of bag

strapped to his torso which was constantly pumping water

into and through his kidneys. I later found out that hed

been stabbed in the back whilst enjoying the Halloween

festivities the evening before. He claimed to be an innocent

victim, but I really didnt believe him. He had the look of

one of those men who looked forward to, and also invitedtrouble at every opportunity!

Hospital Son Duretta is a training hospital and a

very good one, however the problem with this is that you do

not get a visit from the doctor alone, you get a visit from the

doctor accompanied by ten runny-nosedstudents!

A doctor came to see me at about 10.30 in the

morning, along with the same lady doctor who had

performed the operation the night before. She said that Id

had a really bad blood infection which had probably been

infecting my body for two or three months. She told me,

When the small spot appeared on your little toe, this was

the infection trying to leave your body, and it nearly always

attacks the left foot.

I asked her whether or not she could have saved my

toes if I had come in on the first day the spot appeared, but

she reassured me there was nothing I could have done

differently, I would have needed to have seen her months

before this happened, but then of course I didnt know that I

had any problems. She then told me the same thing she had

told Steve the night before, I honestly believe that if you

had not come to emergency last night, your friend would

have found you dead by the weekend!


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Then for even more bad news - my dressing was

removed and the smell was terrible. I dared to take a look at

my toeless foot, and being totally honest, I did not like whatwas staring back at me. My toeless foot looked and smelt

like a badly formed piece of cheese.

Looking at the faces of the ten fourteen-year-old

students, I could see in their eyes that at this particular

moment in time they were pondering as to whether or not

they had chosen the correct profession to spend the rest of

their working lives in!

It was actually a relief when the main man informedme, Im sorry Keveeeen, but Im afraid your foot has to

come off. Well perform the operation tomorrow evening.

The Spanish are a lovely race of people, and they

do speak a beautiful language, but they cannot pronounce

the letter I as in Kevin, pronouncing it as EEEE, so

when they say my name they always call me Keveeeen.

Later that day I had a visit from my two continental

friends, Jula from Hungary, and from Germany my very

good friend Werner, (pronounced Verna,) and what gifts did

my two mates bring for me; bearing in mind that I had just

been told the shattering news that I was diabetic? They

brought me a big bag of cakes and a packet of Cadburys

Chocolate Fingers, which would get me into loads of

trouble with the diet doctor later. Please read on

One of the nice things about Hospital Son Duretta

was the nurses, who were mostly very friendly, and the bed

baths they gave me were sensational, although I must admit

to being a little shy at first, but soon learned to just lay back

and enjoy.

During the second day of my stay in room 325 I

met a lovely nurse named Monika. She spoke good English

and was very friendly and sympathetic towards me. All my

friends inMagallufhad sent me a get well card and I asked


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Monika to sign it, and she wrote, To Kevin, a very good

patient, get better soon. Best wishes from your Florence

Nightingale Monika.I later promised Monika that in a few months, when

this nightmare was over she would be the first person I

would dance with, after my new leg was fitted. I also

promised her that I would use my stay in hospital to

improve my Spanish, and on the night we had the dance I

would also tell her a joke, fluently in her native tongue.

2

nd

November 2006

Last night I had a visit from the foot doctor. (Sorry,

I still dont know her name.) She explained the procedure of

tonights operation and told me they would perform it at

about 20:00. She also said that I could not eat or drink

anything at all today. This was a real shame, as I was

starving at the time!

Steve came for a visit along with Jean and Phil, my

friends from Magalluf, I think Jula may have come as well

but Im not too sure. To be honest I could have done

without any visitors today, but obviously they were

concerned for me, which of course was nice. They all

seemed pleased and frankly amazed at how calm I was, but

what they didnt know was that I was in so much pain I

couldnt wait to get the operation over and done with.

The men in white coats came for me at 19.30 and

wheeled me, still in the bed to the operating theatre, or I

should say the waiting room. A few moments later a man

dressed in green came to see me.

Are you Keveeeen? he questioned, to which I

obviously replied in the affirmative. Ill be your doctor for

the night. He was talking to me the same way a pilot would

talk to his passengers!


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Youre not going to bloody hurt me, are you? was

the question I heard escape from my lips.

He promised I would not feel a thing and then theytook me inside the room with the bright lights. The doc told

me I would receive an epidural, which meant I would be

awake throughout the entire operation. I was not too pleased

with this prospect. Ok I wouldnt feel a thing, but I would

bloody well hear the Texas Chainsaw in full operation

mode! Seor Doctor invited me to sit up and I could feel his

fingers manoeuvring up and down my spine, trying to find a

soft spot to stick the six-inch needle into.This is going to bloody well hurt, I stated.

Did you feel that? he asked.

No, I replied.

Then bang! He stuck the needle into my spine.

That hurt I can tell you, but maybe only for half a

second. He then put two or three more injections into my

back, but I can honestly say that I never felt a thing.

El Doctorinvited me to lie back and after a minute

or so informed me, Well Keveeeen, what we are going to

do now is have a race. If you can get to the door before me I

will give you my house, and I have a nice house.

(I was being operated on by Tommy Cooper!)

Getting a bit more serious he questioned, Are your

legs getting heavy?

Yes they are, I replied, as my legs slowly turned

into blocks of concrete. He asked if I could move my legs

but I could not, and I could not move them again for at least

four hours. The hospital could have burned to the ground in

a towering inferno and I would have burned with it! A sheet

was placed between the surgeons and nurses and me so that

I couldnt see what was going on, although I could see

shadows on the ceiling. They brought the heart monitor for

me to look at, as I had been fascinated by this piece of


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equipment during the first operation. The doctor told me to

shout if it went above one hundred and twenty-five beats

per minute and the operation began.For about half an hour I felt a tickling sensation at

the bottom of my leg. I was a bit concerned that I could feel

anything at all and kept saying, I can feel that, but they

just ignored me. After thirty minutes or so I began to smell

burning, but soon realised that it was my skin I could smell

burning! I then heard the dreaded saw begin, but within five

seconds it was over! A little more burning and a lot more

tickling, then before I knew it the operation was finished.El Doctor poked his head around the separating

sheet and said, Well Keveeeen, now we will take you to

the recovery room, and when you can move your legs, you

can return to your room upstairs.

I was astonished, Is that it, have you finished? I

asked the man in green. When I was told that the operation

was indeed completed, I told El Doctor that I was still

waiting for him to begin! He really was very good.

As I was leaving the theatre the green man told me,

Ill see you in about three weeks.

I asked if I could book him for the next operation

and he told me he was already booked. Mind you, I now

know that what he should have said was, Ill see you in

about three months!

So that was the end of the dreaded operation, and it

was all over in forty-five minutes. I was taken to the

recovery room to wait for the pain!


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A n E x p e n s i v e F u n e r a l

The next day (Friday 3

rd

November) I had a visitfrom a German lady who announced that she was the

hospital psychiatrist, and she wanted to talk with me about

my state of mind. She seemed to be a very nice lady and

made me feel very sure about the future, telling me what I

could expect from life and how it would be living with my

new leg. Then she said something strange, The funeral will

take place later today. I will let you know exactly what time

when I find out myself.

Funeral - whatever does she mean?

She then explained that in Spain, when a piece of

the body has been amputated and so separated from the rest

of the body it has to have a funeral, so that when the person

eventually dies, the complete body will be reunited. It is

obviously a religious thing.

Talking of religion, Jesus had a visit today from

two men who were questioning him for well over an hour. I

didnt know what they were talking about, but I was pretty

sure they were police. He looked very sheepish!

Later his mother came to visit. She seemed like a

nice old lady and so I gave her the big bag of cakes which

Werner and Jula had brought for me. I decided to give the

chocolate fingers to the nurses, for them to enjoy with their

evening coffee.

A little later the German psychiatrist returned with

Good news.She said that the funeral for my foot was to

take place this afternoon at 14:00, and I would receive the

bill on Monday next!

Bill - What bill?was my question.


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I was horrified to be told that I would receive a bill

for the amount of two hundred and fifty Euros, just to havemy foot placed into an incinerator!

I later had a visit from a nice Dutch lady named

Gaita, whom I had met the first night when Id arrived in

casualty - in fact that night she had more or less held my

hand to comfort me. Gaita re-introduced herself and

informed me that she was in fact one of the hospital

interpreters. Do you have any problems you would like to

discuss with me? S

he enquired.

Well Gaita - As it happens!

I told her about the visit from the Psycho and the

foot funeral, and the fact that I wasnt happy about paying

all that money for abarbeque. I also brought up a very valid

point when I questioned, So what happens when I have the

next operation, will I have to pay again to have my lower

leg buried?

Gaita frowned and told me, Ill find out about that

Keveeeen, thats a very good question, leave it with me.

My new Dutch friend returned about half an hour

later with some very good news. Keveeeen, the funeral

parlour has agreed to freeze your foot until the time your leg

is ready to be cremated with it. You can have two funerals

for the price ofone.

A two-for-one offer. Its just like being back in

Magalluf.

I wonder if I will get a free shot with that!

I later had a visit from the doctor and the ten snotty-

nosed, fourteen-year-old students. He wanted to talk with


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me about diabetes and asked about my diet; what I ate and

drank in a typical day. I told him that I honestly didnt know

how or why I had become diabetic. I never used sugar,always using sweeteners in coffee or tea. I never drank any

fizzy drinks unless they were sugar and calorie free. Yes I

liked a beer, but very rarely touched the top shelf.

What about sweets, cakes, biscuits, chocolate and

all that sort of rubbish? he enquired.

I admitted that I ate this type ofrubbish on the odd

occasion, but then who doesnt?

Nurse, check his cupboard.

As soon as I heard him give this order I was

horrified because I knew what was about to happen. True

enough, the nurse went through my personal things and

pulled out the packet ofCadburys Chocolate Fingers!

Bugger!

I explained to the good doctor about the two gifts

from my stupid continental friends, how Id given the cakes

to The Virgin Mary and of my intentions to give these

biscuits to the nurses To enjoy with their evening coffee.

Luckily he believed me and we both had a good chuckle

about the situation.

So what did cause my diabetes? They actually think

the problem was eating too much fruit, especially bananas.

Can you believe that? (I later found this to be a totally

incorrect diagnosis!)


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4th November 2006

On the morning of Saturday 4

th

November I woketo find that Jesus had risen again, and was putting his

clothes on. I enquired as to whether or not he was leaving.

He informed me he was off as soon as the doctor gave him

his release papers. As soon as he finished dressing, he

disappeared along the Corridor of Wonderment, only to

return half an hour later to inform me he was leaving. We

said our goodbyes and he departed.

An hour or so later the doctor came to see me,Where is your friend? he enquired inquisitively.

When I replied, He left about two hours ago, a

look of shock and horror came over the doctors face. It

turned out that nobody had given Jesus permission to leave

and in fact he was still a very sick man.

Another sixty minutes had passed when the two

men who Id earlier believed to be members of the police

force arrived. They asked me in perfect English, What time

did he leave? I told them roughly when he had disappeared

and they proceeded to go in search of him.

How exciting!

He was returned to me a little worse for wear early

that evening, We have brought your friend back, said one

of the two men, once again in perfect English.

They had made a tour of all the local bars and found

him paralytic on whisky. He had been returned to the

hospital, sobered up and then moved to a more secure ward,

not quite so close to the exit. I never saw him again, and

hope I never will!

Tonight would be the only night in Son Duretta

when I had the room to myself, and it would be the last


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night I would spend on my own before the middle of

January.

Later, in the evening I had a visit from Monika, myFlorence Nightingale. Shed heard I was alone and had

come to talk with, and keep me company for a while. (What

a lovely girl she is.) I asked her, Monika, I think I can hear

music, is there a nightclub nearby?

She told me there was a club just down the road and

then asked, Do you want me to close the window

Keveeeen?

Nothank you, in fact could you open it a little bitmore so I can hear the music better?

Monika went to the window and opened it a little

wider, then sat herself down on the window ledge. This was

the moment when I said to her, Monika, when this

nightmare is over I will return here, and with my new leg I

would like you to be the first girl I ever dance with.

Keveeeen that is a promise. she replied laughing.

Then with a broad smile, my Florence Nightingale

disappeared along the Corridor of Mystery.

5th

November 2006

The doctor announced today that I must get out of

my bed and sit in a chair, why - I dont know! It took three

big men to lift me from my comfortable bed and then

deposit me on a very uncomfortable chair. I sat there for

three extremely long boring hours, during which time my

telephone kept ringing but I couldnt reach it to answer. The

remote control was totally out of reach so I couldnt watch

the telly and, more importantly, if Id had a problem of any

kind, the panic button was also way out of my reach!

Later the Three Wise Men returned to replace me

back on the bed. They were pushing me one way, pulling


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me the other and I was slipping all over the floor. Then one

of them banged the bottom of my leg!

Put me down! I shouted in immense pain, Pleaseput me down, leave me alone and give me five minutes to

get my breath back. They did as I requested and left.

When they returned some ten minutes later I was

already on my bed and eating dinner. (Or trying to eat the

disgusting slops I had been presented with!)

How did you manage to do that on your own?

they enquired in disbelief!

I

m English,

I replied,We see the problem, wesolve the problem, we act on the problem!

What I did was to pull myself up on to my good leg

and crudely spin myself around so it was possible to fall

backwards on to the bed. I decided there and then that I

would allow myself as little help as possible.

I spent two more days recovering in Hospital Son

Duretta while waiting for a permanent bed to become

available elsewhere. Then the men in white coats told me I

was leaving, I was going to a place named,

Hospital Joan March

Letters From Mallorca by Kevin Woodrow

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