“Luncheon meat” July 14h 2018

Wrexham Maelor Residency Notes

14/7/2018

Erddig Ward

“Luncheon meat”

Ticky previously met Mr G on Erddig ward, and he talked to her about the mines in the locale.

They had sat together and listed all the names of the mines and apparently he had very much enjoyed this topic. So today, when the staff suggested he might benefit from some conversation we gladly obliged.

Something that keeps coming up in our pre and post-workshop discussions (we do a lot of talking!) is that people are trapped on a ward and they seem to very quickly lose a sense of self- and of identity. Being stripped of clothing and freedom, and much choice beyond a restricted menu, they seem to shrink into a bed and have little to occupy themselves with- other than their surroundings- which, very often, are the cause of their misery.

The complex contradiction is that they are in a place of safety, and a place that’s sole purpose is to care for, and to aid recovery. Yet contradicting that is the loss of freedom, and the loss of opportunity to experience the unexpected.

Although we are unable to take patients out of the ward, for a walk, or a cup of tea, we did realise that we are able to aid people in taking journeys via their minds. It struck us to be a potential meditation of sorts- describing something familiar, a happy place, to verbally revisit it and have a break from the current surroundings.

Much of our conversations have been aimed at encouraging conversation and encouraging the sharing of memories of happy places. We hope that in describing to us and using us as a kind of human canvas- that they might later on continue their venture back into the past.

So, with Mr G we asked if he would like to talk some more and if we could type it at the same time. For some reason today he was a lot more verbal. We weren’t sure if it was the typewriter, giving his words a sense of purpose, but I didn’t waste any time and wrote frantically.

Ticky interviewed him about his life in a mining family and about life in Cefn Y Bedd. He seemed to quite enjoy the attention – with me sat on my little empire aristocrat typewriter like a reporter of some kind. He told us his father was a general manager in a mine in Cefn y Bedd. Mr G himself worked in the mine on a Saturday as a school boy, then became a mine surveyor and remained in that village his whole life!

He described meals in the pit (luncheon meat and anything that was growing in the garden) and how the other lads would laugh hard at you if you were ever stupid enough to get yourself lost.

After the little impromptu “interview” was up I asked him if he would like a copy. He said “Yes please”…. And whilst at the photocopier a curious nurse asked if she might have a read. She said:

“Mr G has been here quite a while and he has never told anybody any of this!”

All I can say, is Ticky is very charming!