Read THIS Is Me... Online

Authors: Sarah Ann Walker

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Contemporary Fiction, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

THIS Is Me... (8 page)

BOOK: THIS Is Me...
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  Wow, what a sad thing to hear. I don't know who she loves, but I hope she finds them soon.  I hope her real friend can be found. 
  Maybe when a doctor comes in, I'll tell them about her so they can help her.  Maybe she’s just lost or can't find her room.  Oh!  Maybe her friend died and I look like her or something so she's crazy with grief.  Maybe she's just lonely and needs a friend.  God, I hope she finds a real friend soon so she's not so lonely anymore.
   Ugh, I don't want to think about her sadness anymore because now I'm kind of sad myself.  I feel lonely and just
weird.
  I hate all this quiet, but I hate all the noise too. 
  I wish Marcus would come to take me home.  I want my own house, with my own sunroom.  I want to go home and be safe and NOT sad in my own home.  I just want to go home so I'm not sad anymore.
 

 

  Closing my eyes, I try to exhale all that Kayla stuff.  I feel terrible for her, but she makes
me
feel terrible, which really isn't fair.  I'm stuck in this hospital bed with tubes and IV's and stuff all over me so I can't move or get away.  I'm trapped here, but I'm trapped awake this time.
  Maybe if I fall asleep, I'll fall back into that long dream I had.  Maybe I'll float away and dream about Marcus and my parents again.  Maybe I'll float away and dream about things I actually understand. 
  Maybe I'll just float away, completely.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 11

 

MAY 13

 

 

 

 

  Waking, I feel like I'm not alone.  I'm never alone, but
feeling
not alone is way creepier than
knowing
you're not alone. 
  Shifting slightly on my bed, I can't believe how stiff my body feels.  It's like every muscle I have is all tight and like scrunched up, or something.  Ugh.
  “Here, let me help you sit up a little.”
  Opening my eyes, I see Dr. MacDonald again.  Huh.  I wonder if this guy sleeps.
  “How are you feeling, Suzanne?”
  “Fine.  Stiff, actually.  My whole body is tight and kind of warm.”
  “Well, you've been asleep for a while, so your body needs to adjust to movement again, but it'll come.  You have to start Physio-Therapy as soon as you can to stop any further muscle atrophy, but otherwise, it'll just take a little time and all the muscle tightness should start to fade.  Generally speaking, muscle atrophy begins within weeks of immobility, but you shouldn't have any long-term issues with muscle degeneration or muscle weakness.”
  “Oh, good.  Um, how long was I asleep?  No one has actually told me what happened to me.”
  “A little over 12 weeks.”
  “Oh.  Wow, that’s so long.  Am I okay?  I mean,
am
I okay?”  Duh.  I sound so stupid.
  “Yes, you're okay, and you're going to be better now.  You were in another coma for these last 12 weeks but you seem to be relatively well now.”  A coma? 
Another
coma?  What the hell does
that
mean?
  “I don't remember another coma Dr. MacDonald.  Was I little or something before?”
  “No.  You were in a medically-induced coma last year for a few weeks after you had a brain aneurism rupture.  Do you remember anything about that time?”
  “No, I'm sorry.”  Holy shit!  2 comas?  What the hell is wrong with me?
  “It's alright.  No need to be sorry.  You were quite sick last year, but you made a remarkable recovery.  Do you remember anything about being sick last year?”
  “No.  I'm... I don't remember being sick at all.  Where's Marcus?”
  I'm starting to feel a little uncomfortable with this doctor.  He keeps looking at me so intensely, but he's also so calm and relaxed that I'm feeling like I'm doing something wrong but he doesn't want to tell me what it is.  Why doesn't he just tell me what he wants?
  “Marcus had to go away for a few days.  He's very sorry to not be here with you, but he couldn't put off the trip, so he sends his regards.  I'm sure he'll be here as soon as he can though.”
  Why doesn't that surprise me?  I can't help but giggle a little.  I mean, come on!  Your wife wakes up after 12 weeks in a friggin’ coma and you can't get out of a business trip?  Who does that?  Speaking of colossal disappointments, where the hell are my parents anyway?
  “Are you okay, Suzanne?  You seem a little nervous or something.  Marcus really does wish he could be here, but he had to straighten a few things out first.”
  “I'm sure he did.  Where are my parents?  Have they been here?”
  “Do you want them here?”  What?  What a strange question.  Of course I ... DON’T!  Ha!  Oops.  Giggle. 
  “Suzanne, would you like your parents here?  It’s okay to answer truthfully.  You can be honest with me.  I promise you can confide in me and I won't tell anyone anything you tell me.”
  “Of course I do.  They're my
parents,
Dr. MacDonald.”
  “Suzanne, do you really want your parents here?”
  “Yes.  I miss my mother.”  Giggle again.  Shit.  As if I miss her.  “I'm sorry.  I'm not sure why I'm laughing.”
  “Suzanne, do you really want your mother here?”  He asks again very seriously.
  “Um, no.  Not really,” I whisper.  Shit.
  “It's okay; I promise you I won't repeat anything you say to me.  Do you know why you don't want your mother here?”
  “No, not really.  My mother is very intense and uptight sometimes, and I think she'll be mad at me for being in a coma, which sounds weird I know, but she's like that.  I think she'll be disappointed in me for being in the hospital because I was in a coma, so she won't be very nice to me.”  Exhale.
  “I understand,
though
being in a coma is a fairly good reason for being in the hospital, wouldn't you agree?”  He asks while smirking at me.  This guy is kind of funny.
  “Yes, a coma sounds like a perfectly reasonable reason for being in the hospital but my mother isn't always so perfectly reasonable.  So I try to never do anything wrong.  And I think being in the hospital is wrong somehow, or at least
she'll
think it is.  So I'm a little nervous about seeing her.  Do you know when she should arrive?”

  God, I’m going to have to prepare myself for her arrival so I'm not so scared when she gets here.
  “Suzanne, your parents won't be visiting you anytime soon.  They're unavailable at the moment so they can't be here with you.  That may be disappointing, but-”
   “Oh, it’s not!  That's awesome.  I really don't want to see her, so this worked out perfectly.”
  Yes!  My mother won't be here, so I'm okay for now.  I wonder what they're doing, but then again, maybe if I know what they’re doing the doctor will find them and tell them I'm awake and then she'll come here.  It’s probably best to not ask.
  “Would you tell me when she's coming for me though?   Would you please give me some notice so I can prepare myself for her?  Is that okay, Dr. MacDonald?”
  “Absolutely.  I promise to let you know.”
  Staring at the doctor he smiles at me and I feel like maybe I can trust him.  He seems like he'll tell me when she's coming for me, so until then I'll try to relax a little.
  “What are you thinking about, Suzanne?”
  “Nothing.  I'm... nothing.  I'm good.  How did I get here?  What happened?”
  “You had a car accident.  Do you remember that?”
  “No… I don't think so.”
  An accident?  Shit, I hope I was driving my car and not Marcus’. He'll kill me if I damaged his car.
  “Was I driving Marcus car in the accident?”
  “No, why?”
  “I was just wondering.”
  “Why were you wondering?”
  “It's nothing.  I was just curious.”
  “Why were you curious?”  God, this guy is so pushy, but he does it all calm-like, so it’s kind of hard to ignore his questions when he sits so calmly waiting for my response.
  “Marcus loves his car. I just wanted to make sure I didn't damage it so he wouldn't be mad at me.  That's all.”
  “I wonder if he would still be angry at you if you did crash his car, even though you were seriously injured, AND you've just woken from a coma.  Don't you think he would care more about your safety and health than for his car?”
  “No, not really.”  Ooops.  “Oh, of course he would, but he would still be disappointed if I crashed his car.”  Ugh.  This still sounds bad.  “No, I'm sure he wouldn't be disappointed.  Marcus will be thrilled that I'm better now, I know he will be.”
  “Are you sure?”
  “Of course.  Marcus loves me, and he would choose me over his car.  I'm sure of it.”  Am I?
  “Well, that's good.  And you can relax because you didn't crash his car, though even if you had you're certainly worth much more than a car.”

 

  Looking at the doctor, I'm suddenly overcome with emotion.  Why the hell am I crying?  He was just being nice, and I'm crying over his niceness?  I'm
crying
?
  “Are you okay?  Why are you so sad suddenly?”
  “I’m not sure.  You just said something nice and it made me cry, I think.  It's pathetic really, but hearing Marcus would pick me over his car feels good.  I know it's probably stupid to you but it means something to me, I think.”
  “That’s not stupid.  Everyone wants to know that they're valuable to someone else.  Everyone wants to feel important to someone else.  And everyone, myself included, wants to know they're more important than, say,
a car
.”  Smirk again.
  Giggling, I whisper a thanks to him for being nice to me, and just stay quiet for a minute.  It's like I'm basking in his simple little nicety. Why does his nice seem so important to me?
 
  “Why are you still here?”
  “I'm your doctor, Suzanne.  Your private physician, actually.  It’s my job to be here with you, but even if it wasn't my job I would be here regardless.  Do you remember anything about me, Suzanne?  Do you remember that I'm your doctor?”
  “Yes, you told me that.  But I don’t understand why I have a personal physician.”  Who does that? 
  “Last year when you were very sick I became your doctor, and I'm still on retainer as such.”  Wow, really?  “You needed me then, so I've been your doctor and your very close friend ever since.  I've been waiting for you to wake up so I could help you get better again.  And I'm thrilled that you're finally recovering.  Is there anything else you want to know?  Is there anything else you want to ask me?”  Huh.  Only like a
million
questions.
  “Why don't I remember you from before?” I whisper.
  “Suzanne, you are suffering from a form of presumably temporary memory-loss.  Many, if not most patients who find themselves awake after a coma have a mild to moderate form of amnesia, and it's quite normal.  In theory, comas lasting even weeks can result in post-traumatic amnesia, or PTA, that lasts months; with a recovery rate occurring over weeks and months, or more severely over the course of years.  It’s almost as if, for every week in a coma, patients need approximately that many months to retain all their previous memories...
  “But it’s very rare for patients to have long term memory loss, especially after such a short time span as you were in the coma.  Again, PTA is very standard and your memory loss is almost certainly short term.  Some patients literally wake up a few days later with all their memories, or again, some need a little more time for the memories to eventually return.”
  “Okay... So maybe soon I'll remember you?”
  “I trust that you will.  We were very, very close, therefore I'm confident you'll remember me sooner rather than later.  And I promise, once you remember your past you'll see that I can be trusted, and you'll probably relax a little while you recover fully.  Do you have any more questions for me?  Feel free to ask me anything, as I said earlier.”
  “No, I'm good, but I'm kind of tired now.  Do you mind if I sleep for a little bit?”
  “Not at all.  Suzanne, you're going to sleep frequently in the next few weeks, which is also standard for post-coma patients as well.  You may also feel confused or depressed from time to time, which is also quite typical, and something we’ll monitor closely in the coming weeks.  But if you should feel overwhelmed or depressed, please let me know immediately so I can help you at the onset.”
  “Okay.  Thanks for telling me.  I didn't want to seem all dramatic for feeling kind of tired and sad.”
  “You're not dramatic.  You're just dealing with a new challenge, and you'll need my help along the way, which I'm here for.”
  “Thank you Dr. MacDonald.  You're very nice to talk to.”
  Smiling, he says, “You used to always tell me that, you know?  Actually, you told me frequently how much you loved me and our friendship, and I find I miss you terribly.”
 

 

  Looking at Dr. MacDonald, he seems so sad that I again feel overwhelmed with sadness.  I feel bad that I don't remember him, but I DON'T remember him.  God, I feel terrible for making him look like that.
  Whispering, “I'm so sorry I don't remember you...”
  “Suzanne,
I'm
sorry.  I didn't mean to upset you, or to put any undue stress upon you.  I just miss you, but I'll refrain from sharing like that again.  We always spoke so freely with each other that it’s hard for me to hold back now.  That was a mistake on my part, or as you used to say a 'Doctorly mistake', and I won't make it again.”
  “It's okay.  I just hate seeing people look sad; it kind of bothers me and makes me sad too.  I'm sure I'll remember you though, I promise.”
  “I'm going to leave you to rest for a while, but I'll come back soon to talk with you.” 
  When I nod, he rises from his chair, and gently touches my leg as his goodbye.  Smiling, he leaves me alone.
  Wow.  That was intense.  But I get it.  I know him; I just don't
know
know him.  That would be upsetting to anyone- to know that you're known but to be unknown.  Anyone would feel sad by that.  I know I would. 
  When I wake up again, I'm going to try really,
really
hard to remember him.  Dr. MacDonald seems like someone I should remember, so I'm going to try hard, so he doesn't look like that ever again.  Maybe when I remember him, everything else will make more sense to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                 CHAPTER 12

BOOK: THIS Is Me...
5.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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