Recommended accompaniment: Miles Davis, "Move"

Move

He's aware of people and movement. Voices. Low tones. No one's excited. Hands and instruments touch him. He hears snatches of conversations, sometimes questions directed at him. His eyes flutter: moving forms, florescent lights, blurs.

But he can't wake up.

He's restless. He doesn't want to wake up. He's got to move, though. Hands turn him one way. He turns back. Hands turn him again. He tries to kick and grab. Tries to tell them to go away.

He hears moaning. Low. Plaintive. Broken. The way he feels.

He hears the word 'combative.' Hears requests to stay still.

Stop moving Dr. House You'll hurt yourself.

Dr. House You're okay You're in the hospital You have a skull fracture You need to stay still.

He has to move. The voice doesn't understand. He must move.

You need to stay still.

Dr. House.

He has to move. There is no reason. He doesn't need a reason. He simply must.

You'll hurt yourself.

And the things on and in his body have to go. Hard white boxy thing on one of his fingers. That one's easy. Slips right off.

Itchy sharp thing on the back of his hand. Something grabs him when he reaches for that. 'No,' he says, 'it's gotta go.'

Nooooooogn. Low and lengthy. Groaning.

Dr. House please be still You need to leave the monitors alone They tell us how you're doing.

Uncomfortable thing in his urethra. Bulky thing around his waist and between his legs. His balls sweaty and itchy. Can't adjust them. Uncomfortable sensation. Something's in the way of his hands.

Itchy things on his chest. Every time he reaches for one, something stops him from getting it.

Dr. House You're in the hospital You need to stay still.

I know you don't like the wires and tubes but they have to stay in place because they tell us how you're doing.

A middle-aged woman's face, bosom, arms, hands. Purple-pink scrubs. Her fleshy white face blurs. The too-bright overhead lights sting his eyes. Flash. She blurs in their place.

Nghh. Ooaagn. He slaps at the lights, her face. Leave me alone. Gotta get comfortable.

Dr. House You have a head injury that's making you restless but I need you to stay still.

She doesn't understand. He must move. Moving makes his head hurt but he has to move. He's uncomfortable. Everything is uncomfortable.

You need to be still.

The things on his chest itch. His hand finds a wire and pulls. His hand's arrested, a pressure on his ribs.

That has to stay on Dr. House.

His head hurts. He wants to be on his side. Nothing stops him from kicking and rolling. There.

Breathes.

Breathes.

No.

Move.

He rolls. Must turn to his other side.

Wants the itchy things off of his chest. He grabs.

Purple-pink flash and blur. Hands stop him from getting the itchy thing but help him roll onto his side.

Breathes.

No. Not comfortable. Must move. Moving hurts. Can't get comfortable.

A high, broken whine.

It's okay Dr. House I know you're not comfortable but you're okay.

No. Can't get right.

So frustrated. His face is wet. Purple-pink blurs underwater. He swipes at the wetness. Go away. Leave me alone. I'm tired.

Fleshy hands stop his. Something soft dabs his face.

Dr. House You're in the hospital You have a skull fracture Your blood pressure and heart rate are too high, and your respirations are too fast You're getting morphine and diazepam right now to relax you You should feel better soon.

His head itches. Above his right ear. Hurts and itches. He's got to scratch it.

He reaches, touches his head to scratch. A hand grabs his wrist.

Uhhhhhnn. No. Leave me alone. It itches.

He has to do something.

It's okay Shhh You're okay.

He tries rubbing his head against the pillow. Hurts his neck. Throbs his head.

Uhhhhn.

Quieter.

Still itches. Not as bad. His face wet. Dabbing his face.

Shhhh It's okay You're okay.

He reaches to scratch again but his arm moves slowly. Heavy arm. Can't lift. Slowly moving. It stops and falls back against his side.

The sounds stop. Blurring flashes stop. He wants to move but he can't.

Wants to move… Wants…

No, not anymore.

Still now. Stay still.

Still and calm. Quiet. Shh.

Shh.