Drowning Lessons
So Hollow Inside
November 8, 2007
10:00 AM
I tried to convince myself that Lacey wasn't....dead. But no matter how hard I tried, the word death kept repeating in my mind, over and over again like a broken record.
When someone in your family or just someone that was really close to you dies it's like losing a part of yourself. It's like a part of you disappears and you become a whole new person. What was once there is now gone. You begin to question yourself, and it's hard to understand what's right and what's wrong.
You feel like you're alone, even when there are people around, people that care so deeply about you. But you always feel alone and you always feel like you're left out. You're an empty shell; hollow inside.
When those words first escaped from my father's lips and traveled through my aching ears, I wondered if I had heard him correctly. I asked him to repeat what he had told me, and when he did it was the same exact thing; Lacey's dead.
By then I had gone brain dead and I could not believe what I had heard. It took me a couple of minutes to realize that I was crying and that my father's arms were wrapped around my body gently so that he wouldn't hurt my broken bones...or my broken heart.
He was hushing me like he used to do when I was a little baby. His voice was so angelic and his shushing came out so smooth and soothing that I could have sworn that I had almost fell asleep right then and there, in my father's arms, crying.
Although I was as they say, 'crying a river', I couldn't understand why I was crying in the first place. It was like my mind would not process my feelings. They were corrupted. Right after he told me she was dead, my mind shut down, like when you turn off a computer or, when you turn off a light.
As I continued to cry over my father's shoulder, I noticed that that woman was still there, sitting on one of the chairs straight ahead of me. She was crying up a storm and I wish i could remember who she was.
That was one of the most frustrating things about all of this besides the fact that Lacey was gone. I had forgotten who everyone was and yet I still remember my father. I know that I had hurt her feelings and that was probably the main reason why she was crying. I was sorry and even though I tried my hardest, I still couldn't remember. I could barely remember myself and I can't even remember my own birthday. But I still knew him, my father, and that's what doesn't make sense. i knew everything about him, but I can't remember when I was born?
The doctor took a few steps forward, wondering when he could jump into the conversation. He was a pretty petite man, just like my dad, He was around the same height. His skin was a light peachy color, his eyes a bright shade of blue. His hair was short, a sandy blonde color that stuck up in every direction. He was young, probably in the mid-twenties and I had to admit, he had a cute face. It was so cute that you would just want to go over and pinch his cheek just like his grandma probably did whenever she saw him.
He was wearing the usual snow white lab coat, black pants, a stethoscope around his neck just in case he had to check a patient's heart rate, and he was clutching onto a clipboard that was more than likely some kind of statistics on me. He stood back with sadness in his eyes. Ever once in awhile he would glance over at his clipboard studying the words that were marked down on the piece of paper.
I sighed and my father let go of me and wiped my tears away from my eyes since I couldn't do it myself due to the fact that my body was broken and it hurt just to move one single inch on the bed.
My father kissed me on the forehead and my mind traveled back to when he would always tuck me right into bed at night when I was little and kiss me on that same spot. He looked at me one last time and gave me a small smile of hope, his green eyes all shinny from crying.
He walked away from me and sat down next to the woman and took her hand which was obviously intimate in a way. I tried to put two and two together to figure out who that woman was, but I was just way too tired to do so.
The young doctor figured that this was the right time to step in, so he walked slowly over to the three of us, his facial expression showed sympathy.
"Well mom and dad..."
My eyes widened.
....Mom?
"...you are certainly very lucky for her to be alive. An accident like that usually...is well...fatal for all, but somehow your daughter managed to survive…" He paused for a moment, gathering up all of his thoughts. "But...you’re not out of the ballpark yet I'm afraid. We have just gotten back the results of the MRI scans and it appears that she has several brain injuries and also a major concussion which, I am sure you are aware, usually involves loss of memory."
The woman, who I guess is my mother gasped, putting a hand up to her mouth in shock, but the doctor held up a hand in protest. "It's only temporary; she will start remembering more and more soon enough."
My mother sighed in relief.
"But....it doesn't seem like she's lost any of her memory at all, I mean she remembers me." My father explained.
My mother looked at my father and shook her head. "Honey...well...I don’t think she remembers me..."
My father stared at her in shock. "Really?"
She nodded slowly and my father turned to look at me. "Is this true Brianna? You can't remember your own mother?"
I wanted to cry and this point, but I held back the tears. "I'm sorry dad....I only remember you and I don't know why." I looked at my mother. "Sorry...mom. I really am."
She just nodded understandingly. "It's alright Brianna, you'll remember eventually."
She said it in almost a whisper and it made me turn my head away so they would not know I was crying silently. But my father placed a hand on my shoulder for they knew that tears were falling down my face one by one, almost as if they could hear each tear drop seep into the white fabric bed sheets that I was lying on, just as people say that they could hear a pin drop to the ground because it was so quiet; awkward silence.
I turned my head back slowly, showing them my tear-stained face and I didn't want to know how bad I actually looked. I thought that I was about ready to die from exhaustion and grief. I was so worn out and I just wanted to sleep; forever.
My father wiped away my tears once more and the doctor slowly walked up to me.
“Hello Brianna, I’m Dr. Lancaster. In about oh….” He looked up at the clock for a moment to check the time. “…in about an hour Dr. Sanders, who is psychologist here at Oakland Hospital, is going to have you do several exercises to try and help you with your memory. She is a very nice lady and I’m sure you’re going to like her.” Dr. Lancaster said with a small smile. “Take care and if you need anything at all press that button there on your left,” he pointed to the object. “And just ask for me, alright?”
I nodded slowly.
He smiled once more, a smile which had to be worth a million bucks, and he turned and walked out the door, and shut it slowly as he walked out, leaving me lying here in the bed, confusion surrounding me.
10:00 AM
I tried to convince myself that Lacey wasn't....dead. But no matter how hard I tried, the word death kept repeating in my mind, over and over again like a broken record.
When someone in your family or just someone that was really close to you dies it's like losing a part of yourself. It's like a part of you disappears and you become a whole new person. What was once there is now gone. You begin to question yourself, and it's hard to understand what's right and what's wrong.
You feel like you're alone, even when there are people around, people that care so deeply about you. But you always feel alone and you always feel like you're left out. You're an empty shell; hollow inside.
When those words first escaped from my father's lips and traveled through my aching ears, I wondered if I had heard him correctly. I asked him to repeat what he had told me, and when he did it was the same exact thing; Lacey's dead.
By then I had gone brain dead and I could not believe what I had heard. It took me a couple of minutes to realize that I was crying and that my father's arms were wrapped around my body gently so that he wouldn't hurt my broken bones...or my broken heart.
He was hushing me like he used to do when I was a little baby. His voice was so angelic and his shushing came out so smooth and soothing that I could have sworn that I had almost fell asleep right then and there, in my father's arms, crying.
Although I was as they say, 'crying a river', I couldn't understand why I was crying in the first place. It was like my mind would not process my feelings. They were corrupted. Right after he told me she was dead, my mind shut down, like when you turn off a computer or, when you turn off a light.
As I continued to cry over my father's shoulder, I noticed that that woman was still there, sitting on one of the chairs straight ahead of me. She was crying up a storm and I wish i could remember who she was.
That was one of the most frustrating things about all of this besides the fact that Lacey was gone. I had forgotten who everyone was and yet I still remember my father. I know that I had hurt her feelings and that was probably the main reason why she was crying. I was sorry and even though I tried my hardest, I still couldn't remember. I could barely remember myself and I can't even remember my own birthday. But I still knew him, my father, and that's what doesn't make sense. i knew everything about him, but I can't remember when I was born?
The doctor took a few steps forward, wondering when he could jump into the conversation. He was a pretty petite man, just like my dad, He was around the same height. His skin was a light peachy color, his eyes a bright shade of blue. His hair was short, a sandy blonde color that stuck up in every direction. He was young, probably in the mid-twenties and I had to admit, he had a cute face. It was so cute that you would just want to go over and pinch his cheek just like his grandma probably did whenever she saw him.
He was wearing the usual snow white lab coat, black pants, a stethoscope around his neck just in case he had to check a patient's heart rate, and he was clutching onto a clipboard that was more than likely some kind of statistics on me. He stood back with sadness in his eyes. Ever once in awhile he would glance over at his clipboard studying the words that were marked down on the piece of paper.
I sighed and my father let go of me and wiped my tears away from my eyes since I couldn't do it myself due to the fact that my body was broken and it hurt just to move one single inch on the bed.
My father kissed me on the forehead and my mind traveled back to when he would always tuck me right into bed at night when I was little and kiss me on that same spot. He looked at me one last time and gave me a small smile of hope, his green eyes all shinny from crying.
He walked away from me and sat down next to the woman and took her hand which was obviously intimate in a way. I tried to put two and two together to figure out who that woman was, but I was just way too tired to do so.
The young doctor figured that this was the right time to step in, so he walked slowly over to the three of us, his facial expression showed sympathy.
"Well mom and dad..."
My eyes widened.
....Mom?
"...you are certainly very lucky for her to be alive. An accident like that usually...is well...fatal for all, but somehow your daughter managed to survive…" He paused for a moment, gathering up all of his thoughts. "But...you’re not out of the ballpark yet I'm afraid. We have just gotten back the results of the MRI scans and it appears that she has several brain injuries and also a major concussion which, I am sure you are aware, usually involves loss of memory."
The woman, who I guess is my mother gasped, putting a hand up to her mouth in shock, but the doctor held up a hand in protest. "It's only temporary; she will start remembering more and more soon enough."
My mother sighed in relief.
"But....it doesn't seem like she's lost any of her memory at all, I mean she remembers me." My father explained.
My mother looked at my father and shook her head. "Honey...well...I don’t think she remembers me..."
My father stared at her in shock. "Really?"
She nodded slowly and my father turned to look at me. "Is this true Brianna? You can't remember your own mother?"
I wanted to cry and this point, but I held back the tears. "I'm sorry dad....I only remember you and I don't know why." I looked at my mother. "Sorry...mom. I really am."
She just nodded understandingly. "It's alright Brianna, you'll remember eventually."
She said it in almost a whisper and it made me turn my head away so they would not know I was crying silently. But my father placed a hand on my shoulder for they knew that tears were falling down my face one by one, almost as if they could hear each tear drop seep into the white fabric bed sheets that I was lying on, just as people say that they could hear a pin drop to the ground because it was so quiet; awkward silence.
I turned my head back slowly, showing them my tear-stained face and I didn't want to know how bad I actually looked. I thought that I was about ready to die from exhaustion and grief. I was so worn out and I just wanted to sleep; forever.
My father wiped away my tears once more and the doctor slowly walked up to me.
“Hello Brianna, I’m Dr. Lancaster. In about oh….” He looked up at the clock for a moment to check the time. “…in about an hour Dr. Sanders, who is psychologist here at Oakland Hospital, is going to have you do several exercises to try and help you with your memory. She is a very nice lady and I’m sure you’re going to like her.” Dr. Lancaster said with a small smile. “Take care and if you need anything at all press that button there on your left,” he pointed to the object. “And just ask for me, alright?”
I nodded slowly.
He smiled once more, a smile which had to be worth a million bucks, and he turned and walked out the door, and shut it slowly as he walked out, leaving me lying here in the bed, confusion surrounding me.