Lucid As I
Prologue
The hospital gown itched against my bare skin. The room was cold and smelled sickeningly like air-borne illnesses, which I had always thought hospitals were supposed to prevent, not be a breeding ground for. I tried to sit up, but was weighed down by the needles shoved into my frail arms. My head spun so much that I could not seem to gather my surroundings past myself. I think it’s all the painkillers; maybe it’s just my body’s natural response to my attempt at getting up.
I placed a hand to my head to right myself and was surprised to find another one meet me there, trying to steady me, as well. In the haziness of the moment, I looked up to identify the hand’s owner and saw familiar eyes staring back at me. They were worried and frightened and, as I tried to lie back down, they were accompanied with muffled, unintelligible words. When I looked at her lips, I could partly make out something like, “Hats come last.” But I’ve never been very good at lip reading.
She stroked my head as I lied down and brought my arms closer to my chest. I caught sight of the bracelet around my wrist that read, “Intensive Care Unit.”
What have I done to end up in ICU? It felt like this moment was a stinging slap across my face meant to punish me for my stupidity. I tried to think of what could have led up to this instant in my life. It seems, though, that there really was no definitive moment; it’s more like a string of events that began to pile one on top of the other, suffocating me under their weight and burying me alive.
I placed a hand to my head to right myself and was surprised to find another one meet me there, trying to steady me, as well. In the haziness of the moment, I looked up to identify the hand’s owner and saw familiar eyes staring back at me. They were worried and frightened and, as I tried to lie back down, they were accompanied with muffled, unintelligible words. When I looked at her lips, I could partly make out something like, “Hats come last.” But I’ve never been very good at lip reading.
She stroked my head as I lied down and brought my arms closer to my chest. I caught sight of the bracelet around my wrist that read, “Intensive Care Unit.”
What have I done to end up in ICU? It felt like this moment was a stinging slap across my face meant to punish me for my stupidity. I tried to think of what could have led up to this instant in my life. It seems, though, that there really was no definitive moment; it’s more like a string of events that began to pile one on top of the other, suffocating me under their weight and burying me alive.