The crisis in the North Pole

Me and Robbie go way back. We’re both frequent flyers at a certain mental health hospital. Because I’m not good with new people due to my paranoia, I had just worked up to exchanging pleasantries with the other service users after four weeks. When Robbie walked onto the ward, everything changed.

When I saw, him being escorted to his room, I lept out of my exposure chair and ran into his arms. I was delighted to see a friendly face, as was he. As he had to finish his admission, I went back to the green tub chair with a smile on my face and the knot in my stomach finally began to loosen.

Robbie, like myself, had chronic fatigue syndrome when he was younger and struggled with emotion dysregulation. He was a man of few words who loved nothing more than to smoke eighty cigarettes a day. When I had finally completed my exposure for the day, I continued to sit there as it happened to be the front of the queue for night meds. When I exited the clinical room after my tablets were dispensed, instead of going straight to my room as usual, I heard Robbie’s distinctive cough and went into the smoking room to see my friend.

As it was the middle of March, the weather was so unpredictable. I sat talking to him about his family issues. When I got a bit chilly and felt my night meds kick in. I gave him another big hug and we said we would catch up properly the next day.

The reason I had to sit in my exposure chair for an hour twice a day was to get out of my room and be around other people, even when it was the last thing I wanted to do. I did it however, and throughout my stay gradually became less and less uncomfortable around the other people on the ward.

As none of the rooms had en-suits, but you needed a key card to enter your room, the vast majority of us had locked ourselves out from time to time. I looked to my right and saw a nurse with a clipboard doing her hourly check. Robbie approached her.

‘Nurse, would you let me into my room please, my key is in my pants and my pants are in my room!’ he said in a sing song tone of voice.

She looked him up and down before it clicked that he was in his pyjamas. Of course there was no trouble opening his door for him but when he gained access to his room, he stood on the threshold and said, ‘hello room!’ before entering.

I found this to be hilarious but other found it a bit disturbing and were asking if he was all there. I corrected them all as Robbie, although he might come across as being simple, had two college degrees and a masters. It took a few days for the others to see what I meant, but when they did, they loved him just as much as I did.

About a week into his stay he began to sit with me as I did my exposure from 3pm – 4pm and 8pm – 9pm. He asked if I had heard about the conflict in the north pole. I wasn’t sure where he was going with it but encouraged him to continue.

‘Santa and the elves are fighting,’ he began, ‘the elves want better pay and Rudolph is the only one who can keep them in check.’

‘What kind of pay are the elves getting and what do they want?’ I asked.

‘They get paid in ice and since global warming, Santa can’t give them the pay rise he promised!’

‘Is there any other form of payment they will take?’

‘Well, the polar bears are getting involved warning Santa that if he raises their wages, there will be holy blue murder!’

‘What are the reindeer doing to help?’

‘Well Rudolph is trying his best by promising money as payment instead of ice but the elves are having none of it.’

‘Surely to god they only have room in their freezer for only so much ice!’

‘Yea, but its how they heat their homes. They are just so pissed off, what with inflation, that they aren’t getting the pay rise they were promised.’

I looked at Robbie and he smiled a cheeky grin at me. I smiled back. Man did I miss our impromptu conversations.

That night I got my tablets as usual and made my way out to the smoking room because I could hear Robbie’s distinctive cough. There was just me and him in there and he asked if he could kiss me on the cheek. I had no issues with that so he did. The shelter became crowded straight afterwards and I made my excuses and went to my room in the knowledge he had someone to talk to.

Just as I made it to the blue coloured door which was miles down the corridor, my phone pinged. It was Robbie thanking me for the kiss.

I wrote back, ‘you do know I’m gay, right?’ I just presumed everyone knew…. but he didn’t.

 

As the days passed, the crisis in the north pole became hostile. I remember there to be one day that I was particularly upset and he told me that the penguins in the south pole had gotten wind of the conflict.

‘Are they going to go up there?’ I asked wiping my tears away with a tissue Robbie had gotten from the bathroom.

‘Well the polar bears are becoming more and more aggressive and it’s a lot for Rudolph and the reindeers to cope with!’

‘Whose side are the penguins on? Are they going to back up Santa or are they going to jump on the band wagon and be on the side of the polar bears and not want the elves to get fair wages?’

‘I think they’re siding with the polar bears!’

‘How are they going to get up to the north pole, their babies can’t swim yet!’

‘They’re going to each have a platform driven by the sealions!’

I turned towards him. ‘You mean to say that not only are the penguins going up there, but the sealions are going too?’

‘That’s what was on the news today!’ he answered.

‘Poor Santa! Do they not know that they have only nine months to bang out several million toys?’

‘They are ice mad! They can only see the elves wages as more ice being taken away from them!’

‘I thought that Santa had the elves ice sorted for the next twenty years, at least!’

‘There was an avalanche and most of Santa’s ice was destroyed! Global warming caused it!’

‘Poor Santa!’

As we talked a nurse came by to check our temperatures, something that they did after every shift change since covid hit. The nurse, Ciara, couldn’t help but hear a part of our conversation and wondered what we were talking about.

‘The crisis in the north pole!’ we said in unison and then began to laugh. It was the first time I had laughed since I got there and it felt good. I was certain from the nurses facial expression that she thought we were cracked, but we needed to be able to blow off some steam and what better way to do that than to dig deep into our imaginations.

The next night, Robbie told me that some of the penguins arrived and they were on the fence as to who’s side to be on. As we were talking, waiting patiently for the nurses to dispense the medications, Robbie took my hand and whispered in my ear that he wished I wasn’t gay. I was just glad of the physical contact. At that moment in time you could only see two loved ones for one visit a week for fourth five minutes at a time. During the visit we all had to wear masks and there was no touching what so ever allowed. That was why I didn’t really care what people took away from us holding hands.

As the nurse, Ciara, was on her temperature rounds once more we were scolded and told it was a hospital, we were in. We looked at each other and smiled, our hands breaking contact…until she moved on down the ward.

We continued to talk about the crisis in the north pole and sneaking in hugs, all the while Robbie wishing I wasn’t gay, until one Wednesday he got the word that Friday was his discharge date. My heart sank. I was losing my only friend and ally on the ward. We decided that he deserved a good send off so we had a take away together on the Thursday and said our goodbyes. I was no good with goodbyes, so I made a point of not being around on the Friday, afraid that I would break down in tears as the man left. Once you leave, you can’t come back to visit.

Friday came and went and I, thankfully, missed Robbie’s departure. Just as I was in my exposure chair waiting for my night time meds he sent me a text:

‘Santa has the penguins and sealions on his side. They said that he could have some of their ice from  the south pole to pay the elves what they were promised. Production has recommenced as the elves are finally not on strike anymore and it looks like Christmas is saved.’

‘Thank god for that!’ I answered.

‘I still wish you weren’t gay!’ he wrote making me think that if I wasn’t then I would jump into a thing with him no questions asked. Who else could you talk about the crisis in the north pole with?