inTervieW - Green Cross Publishing

28
cReaTive wRiTing
Lefty
Donnie looked up at the lunar-like
ceiling of spacelights that added
to that morning’s world of white.
The trolley hit a bump and he
increased his grip on lefty. It was
like the bump was a reminder of
the fate that lay in store for lefty in about half
an hour’s time. After 43 years of living together,
sharing each milestone in his life, Donnie
and lefty were parting company forever that
morning. Donnie was scared.
It had all began just over a fortnight ago
with that most invasive of four letter words, ‘a
lump’. The English language is full of four letter
words but that word ‘lump’ has transcended
literal meaning. There’d been no symptoms, no
warnings, nothing, none of that, just a lump on
lefty that couldn’t be wished away or justified by
any sort of activity. It was there in the morning,
and like the princess that no matter which way
she turned or lay could always feel the pea in her
bed, Donnie could always feel the lump.
Donnie thought of that as the trolley waited for
the lift to open. The nurse wanted to check his
wristband, make sure she had the right patient,
that sort of thing. Donnie had his right hand
cradling lefty which entailed the nurse having
to go and get it but she’d seen it many a time
before.
It’s alright … you’re not the first.’ And checked
the band.
‘When’d you discover it?’
‘late last week.’
‘That’s good … time’s everything with these.
you’d be surprised at how many just ignore it…
leave ‘til it’s too late…hope that it will go away…
that sort of thing…especially men.’
“
How lefty was
the one that
‘hung low’ and how as
many years ago he’d
considered lefty as his
barometer for a girl.
Satisfied with what she’d checked she returned
his hand to lefty. They’d laughed at that. His
other hand was free, lying loose over his chest.
She’d moved that to lefty also and they’d
laughed more. Then she’d gone back to checking
charts and he returned to his thoughts of lefty.
Initially, he’d assumed that they’d just cut
it, the lump, out and then when he learnt that
everything on the left had to go, he’d accepted it
pretty quickly because he’d just wanted that out,
out, out of him, out of that inside of him forever.
And everyone reassured him that because he’d
got attention that he’d be fine, so much that he
had himself convinced also and that’s when he
became sorry for lefty. like he was abandoning
a friend of old, someone who’d been there
always, that half of a team that gave the complete
backup.
Donnie thought back to when he’d last held
lefty with this sort of protection. It was a soccer
match and the opposition had a free kick. He and
lefty were the wall. The kicker didn’t like him.
They’d had history throughout the match and
he’d come across to say.
‘Hey Donnie, I don’t care about the goal but his
ball’s taking your head off.’
Initially he’d held his arms over his face but at
the penultimate moment just as the boot was
coming into the leather he’d thought ‘What
about Righty and lefty!! Forget the head…
protect them nOW!’ and he had and they’d been
very grateful.
And then there was the time, Donnie’d been
about 13 or so when lefty had disappeared after
a cold swim and he’d told his Mother and his
sisters had laughed and how he’d thought he was
gone forever but like the faithful friend he was
lefty had come back and now here was Donnie
having him cut out.
The lift opened and a team of white crowded
over, questions, questions…name, date of birth,
mother’s maiden name and all the faces were
unfamiliar and he knew they were just checking
to make sure they’d the right patient but Donnie
just gripped lefty even more.
And then the surgeon, Donnie knew
him, ‘thank God’ … someone he knew…his
jack-hammered heart relaxed, and then the
anaesthetist. She was attractive, foreign looking,
her hand on his chest, soothing:
julIAN judGe
issue 10 volume 12 • novemBeR 2010
Julian Judge qualified as a pharmacist in 1990.
He has recently completed a Masters in Creative
Writing at the Department of english at uCD.
Contact Julian at email: julianjudge@hotmail.com
‘Breathe slowly and deeply.’ Said with a deep
eastern-like accent as a mask descended over his
mouth.
‘Think of something pleasant, far away and
count to ten…you won’t beyond five.’ Said the
exotic eastern throat and Donnie relaxed into a
far away pleasant place and thought of lefty and
43 years of being together.
How lefty was the one that ‘hung low’ and
how as many years ago he’d considered lefty as
his barometer for a girl. If lefty didn’t respond
she could forget about it and he’d go find
another for him, how crossing his legs, although
easier would never be the same again, nothing
to adjust.
Donnie got to three and had an immediate
thought of ‘this was it, time to say goodbye to
lefty.’ Initially he was panicked: just how was he
to say goodbye to a testicle? He heard:
‘Slow and deeply…that’s it.’ Again and the
answer came to him.
So, somewhere between four and five in his
count Donnie relaxed his grip and gave lefty one
last scratch.
Author’s note.
A friend of mine, 43 years old, otherwise completely
healthy, recently discovered a lump on his left
testicle. He had it removed last week and is now
waiting on biopsy results.
The main symptom of testicular cancer is a
swelling or lump on one of your testicles. The lump
is usually completely painless, no matter how
small. Other symptoms are a swelling in either ball,
discomfort or heaviness or a dull ache in the groin.
For further information visit www.cancer.ie or
phone National Cancer Helpline at 1800-200-700.