You've Helped others now help M.E

As I irritably began to question my mum, Sue, as to when we would be leaving … she couldn’t help but giggle. A year ago this month, I would be dreading any appointment to a hospital, to the extent in which I would categorically refuse to leave the door. Yet I always did go, and it didn’t always turn out as bad as I had expected. Today I was giggling and joking excited that I was returning to the hospital. Quite a turn around.

I stepped out of the car onto the dirty pavement covered in cracks; I looked at the block of flats situated on my left, then towards the lampost almost directly in front of me. Holding a see through folder reading ‘War Against M.E’ I giggled and skipped along as we approached Mulberry House, Home of psychiatric, psychological, mental and respite care facilities. Here I was too sit through an hour or so with my consulting psychiatrist Dr Derek Proudlove, for general support and ‘catch-up’.

Dr Proudlove, one of a few consultant psychiatrists at Alder Hey, had consulted with me since the very beginning of this illness. Appointments were taken place in Mulberry House Alder Hey, generally consisting of light conversation, and previously time to take a sleep.  Dr Proudlove continues to be the only member of the medical profession to be so continually driven as to the treatment and understanding of M.E. His work includes working with ‘AYME’; Association of Young people with M.E, As well as putting together a bid in which to receive funding to help Young people with M.E at Alder Hey Children’s Hospital, along with various other projects.

My first consultation with Dr Proudlove, was late 2002, and from what I can remember the consultation was ever so different.  Limping slowly, wincing in pain and squinting to avoid looking at the light.

A 14 year old girl struggled through two sets of automatic doors, and proceeded to slump onto a low, blue plastic chair, groaning as she hit it. A light gaze was on the posters surrounding her, and she began to twitch in reaction to the surrounding noise. A tall man walked towards her, introducing himself he put out his hand, gathering composure she limply shook it, forcing out a smile, and proceeding to follow towards a second building.

Behind a pine wood door further down the corridor, where several chairs; each were several chairs covered in a royal blue material, the chairs also made of pine. The girl quietly stumbled into the first chair she reached, after politely asking for the lights to be switched off, she sat and listened until eventually falling into the land of nod.

This ‘girl’, was quite obviously me. Looking back for me, its hard to realize that was actually me, all the problems may have seemed real then, but seem a distant memory now. Even though the mobility agony was taken away, ‘internally’ I still have a few problems that continue to be treated, something I continue to dislike but refuse to give into. 

<o:p>November 20th 2003, I skipped into Mulberry House, signed the guestbook and messed about as mum, Sue, laughed at the rate in which I jumped about, messing around with a small 5year old boy asking me questions. As the psychiatrist made his way around reception towards me, he almost double taked, before approaching me. In an almost slightly surprised voice he said ‘Hiya Louise, this way’.</o:p>

<o:p>As I walked around the winding corridor, through several doors, I once again approached a pine door; once again it opened to several pine chairs. I continued in, and sat in a royal blue comfy chair as Dr Proudlove left the room for a second. Looking around I knew I was in a different room than previous occasions, but just sat comfortably and spoke to mum.  It almost seemed like a different world as the consultation began, both myself and mum speaking freely and fluently, no more mumbling, just the odd stutter on the words which had now become normal within my speech.</o:p>

<o:p>Fiddling with the last popper on my jacket, I excitedly answered questions, unsure as to why I was excited, he animatedly continued the conversation as both mum and I listened. I sat back and relaxed a bit more, and then something happened, something clicked.</o:p>

<o:p>Dr Proudlove and Mum, Sue. Sat chatting about M.E in general, what my mum felt necessary for other sufferers in the future, how she’d dealt with families and various aspects that he enquired about. I sat gazing at the light, eyes locked onto it. Smiling, I moved my fingers, crossed my legs, kicked about and then stared at my hands, looking towards them I knew I could move them and pick things up. The room fell silent, I never noticed for a while, till I looked towards them smiling, with tears in my eyes. Momentarily it was a conversation of just actions. They knew I had just realized I had achieved something. They knew it had taken me this long to realize my hands and feet worked, the conversation again began yet the amazement on my face just stuck. </o:p>

<o:p>A year ago I was reassured by Dr Proudlove I was there for support; still weary I continued the consultations, each one gaining more support and helping mentally. A year on, I realize how much Dr Proudlove helped; he made me realize that I was okay, human and living. He cared. Signed off for 6months for ‘pediatric liaison’ I left mulberry house, a place I wouldn’t return too for a while. I smiled as I left.  Dr Proudlove’s work with M.E continues, he still liaises with many patients who like me, have M.E, he maintains his special relationship with each.  I left that day happy, with a weight off my shoulders that were left behind, and a great feeling inside knowing that somebody cared about me, but more importantly M.E.</o:p>

<o:p>He helped others and now he’s helping M.E.</o:p>

<o:p>You've Helped others now help M.E</o:p>