She's not in her own body.
This takes a moment to sink in.
To, really, honestly, completely sink in; and when it does, she's sure that she's finally lost it or is in some strange coma-dream.
Because before she's noticed this important fact, she had been fretting over the idea that someone had found her while she had been drowning and fished her sorry self from the water. The room didn't look like any suicide-watch room she had ever seen, let alone any hospital room that was in the immediate area in her part of the country (Kane would be in fits if it was indeed a hospital room, the amount of health-violations for a public health care center was obscene, even if it was a perfectly clean living space).
And then there was the worry that, since she was still alive, she would have to face everyone she almost left behind and their reactions, their disappointment.
(And that's what terrifies her more than anything; more than even dying, more than Kane's unconscious body in that hospital room, even more than that night when they ran so far away from certain harm that had been nipping at their heels… Because that disappointment and loathing had been the very thing she ran from in the first place to the cold grasping depths of that lake.)
But then she noticed her skin tone and saw the sweeping purple strands and everything changed.