CH 9

ILLUSIONS

The morning came with what felt to Amanda like a freight train colliding in her head. She slowly opened her eyes and could barely make out where she was; the walls had a colorful pattern to them. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she then could see that the paint scheme had some sort of garden theme to it. There was various medical instruments in their places on the wall, she tried to move her arm but she was immediately overcome with pain and stiffness. She looked down and noticed her arm was wrapped and in a sling. She raised her left arm, and thankfully there wasn't any pain, but she felt a slight tug; leading from her left hand, there was a plastic tube that led to a large bag that hung on the side of her bed.

"What the hell?" She thought. She finally figured out she was in a hospital room; in modern day.

She tried to sit herself up, but she couldn't muster the strength. There was a beep, then a tightening of her unbroken arm; a blood pressure cuff automatically started to squeeze her.

"Hello?" She tried to speak but only could make out with a whisper.

Mandy struggled to figure out what was going on. Last she knew, she had kissed Officer Murdoch goodnight and then getting into a spat with Sara. She felt weak, her mouth was like a desert, and she was once again in an unfamiliar place.

"The plane...it crashed. Am I alive?" She then thought of the plane going down on her way home.

"Dad? Anyone here?" She started to cry. "Will?!" Her dry throat made her sound like nails on a chalkboard.

The blood pressure cuff shut off, and she tried to maneuver her broke arm to take the cuff off. Only to be met with more pain.

"Dammit!" She hissed.

She looked around in her bed for a call button. The wand laid underneath her. She all but smashed the button.

"Help me..." She muttered.

She laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, feeling too weak to sit up any longer.

A few moments later there was a knock on the door.

"Miss Spencer? You're awake." A deep, calm voice resonated in her ears.

She opened her eyes back up and saw a tall black male in scrubs standing at the foot of her bed.

"Doc...I..don't know where I am at..." She whispered.

"My name is Michael, I am the nurse on shift." He was very friendly.

She cleared her throat in a feeble attempt. "May I have some water?"

He walked over to the stand by her bed and filled a Styrofoam cup and put a straw in. He took his left hand to gently raise her head and with his right offered her the drink;she quickly sucked the liquid into her dry mouth.

"Slowly honey, take sips."

The water was a very welcomed treat. She started to feel like a wilted flower starting to come back to life.

"There was a plane crash." She muttered between sips.

"Yes, I know. You are one of the lucky ones. Welcome to Virginia. You were airlifted here by helicopter. Luckily there was a ship nearby, it was on its way to the Med. You are in Portsmouth Medical Center."

Her eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. "My father, his name is Dr. Captain Marcus Spencer. Did he live?

Michael sat her cup down and then proceeded to sit on the edge of her bed.

She saw on his ID tag that in his picture, he was in uniform. She narrowed her eyes to try and identify his rank.

"Lieutenant, can you raise my head please, so I can sit up some, I feel a little dizzy laying flat."

He lowered his hand by her bed and pressed a button to adjust the head of the bed and she went up about 45 degrees.

"You don't have to call me by my rank, just Mike. Your father, is in a coma. We had to put him in a medically induced coma because of the injuries he sustained." He gently explained.

She felt like the walls were closing in on her. She knew from growing up with her father, that whenever someone is in a coma, medically induced, it wasn't good.

"Sir, how bad was his injuries? He is all I have." She started to cry.

He sighed. "He had some brain swelling and the Doctor is afraid he could eventually herniate."

She started to cry even harder.

"Sshhh. He is in good hands. You on the other hand need to build your strength up."

"Sir, you don't understand, I don't know how I ended up here, I thought I was in 1912." She wept.

His confusion was evident on his face.

She looked up at him through teary eyes. "All I remember is the plane going down, and I was going for my oxygen mask and I then ended up on the Titanic."

"Miss Spencer, you have gone through quite a bit. You were probably dreaming." He patted her shoulder gently.

"You have a broken arm, your knee and ankle was severely sprained, and you got quite a bump on the head. I am going to leave for a moment to go tell the Doc you are awake. He will give you something to ease the pain and help you relax." He got up and headed for the door.

"Sir, how long was I out?" She muttered.

He turned around and smiled. "It's been about three days, try and relax as much as you can and the Doc will be here." He said gently then shut the door behind him.

She couldn't understand how she could have been dreaming. Everything felt real, from the moment she awoke in England, to the moment she had shut her eyes to go to sleep in her cabin. The confusion and shock of the situation made the pain in her body the last thing on her mind. If it was all just a dream, she never wanted to sleep again. The feel of Will's arms embracing her, the protection she had felt from those precious moments was something she wanted to go back to. She could feel fresh tears stream down her face; tears of the fact her father may not live, tears from the pain of her injuries, and most of all, the pain of never having really lived those moments onboard the ship. She even started to miss Sara.

"Amanda?"

Another man, peeked his head through the door. She looked up at him and from his appearance, she assumed him to be the doctor.

"How are you feeling?" The man came over to her bedside.

"I don't know." She sniffed. "I woke up not knowing where I was at, I don't know whether or not to believe this is real. I cannot even begin to tell you how badly I am hurting." She wept.

The man took a chair and pulled it over to sit down. "Well, for starters, my name is Dr. Ryan Green, I have been looking after you since you arrived here a few days ago." He had a slight southern accent, he was a dark-haired man with freckles.

"You survived a rather horrific accident. Lieutenant Hannigan told me that he explained to you your injuries, and I know you inquired about your father-"

"Yes, is he going to survive himself?" She interrupted.

"He sustained some rather frightening injuries. He is being tended to by Neurology." The doctor softly explained.

Amanda just stared down into her lap.

"The only thing I can tell you is they are doing the best they can. There is one doctor working with him, Captain Beth Carmichael. She probably one of the best neurosurgeons I have come to know, and she happens to know your father."

She looked up at him. "She is a girlfriend of mine's stepmother. I know who she is."

The doctor smiled warmly. "Small world. Well, in the meantime, I cannot make any promises on account of your father. Like I said, he is in some damn good hands. We need to work on getting you well. You have been receiving your nutrients through an IV. You were in a slight coma, going in and out." He explained. "I am going to have LT Hannigan come back in and get some vitals and I am going to order some pain medicine to help you relax. You aren't allergic to anything are you?"

She shook her head no.

"He will be back in here momentarily, but in the meantime, here is a master remote. It controls the TV, there is a call button, and it even has controls for the bed." He handed her the attached remote.

She took it from him. "Thank you, can I get something to eat? I am starting to get hungry." She quipped.

"First the vitals, then the nurse will have to change your bag." He sat up from the chair.

She looked down and then back up at him. "Bag?"

"You have a catheter inserted."

She looked down in mild embarrassment. "Sir, before you go, can you answer me this, what day is it?"

"It's Friday, the 26th." He replied. "I am going to go order your meds. Dinner is not until 1700, but it is close to 16, you want a popsicle?"

"That sounds pretty good, my mouth and throat hurts and so dry." She rubbed her throat.

"We'll hurry." He then walked out to the nurse's station, leaving the door open.

She couldn't help but gaze into the distance; as if she had a hard time trying to piece together being on Titanic, she had to accept the fact that it was nothing but a drug induced dream. Everything down to the smallest detail was all too real to her. She wondered how she would ever get through what she could only describe as heartache. The sad part was that the one person she could only think of was William, not her father. She would never forgive herself.

Moments came and went, and no one had come to check her or give her the pain meds. She turned the TV on and started to flip through the channels. She couldn't find any concentration to pay attention to whatever was on TV. Her mind was elsewhere and it was killing her inside. She heard footsteps and looked up. The nurse was back with a couple of things in his hand.

"I need to talk to you." He said with an irritated tone.

Amanda's eyes squinted. "What?"

"Wake up please and listen to me." He continued.

"What? What are you talking about Sir?" She asked.

Amanda's covers were ripped off of her. She flinched back and turned her head to the direction of the voice. The sleep in her eyes started to fade and she saw Sara standing by her bed. Amanda gasped and all but leaped out of the bed and took Sara into her arms. The momentum almost made Sara lose her footing.

"I am sorry too." Sara quipped with confusion. She put her arms around Amanda.

Amanda stepped back. "I am sorry, I had this horrific dream. I am so glad it wasn't real."

Sara chuckled. "What happened?"

Amanda pondered on what to say. "It doesn't matter. Please forgive me for last night."

"Of course I do. I do admit I was very brash. It was not my place to meddle in your privacy." Sara took Amanda into her arms.

Amanda felt the most relief she has ever felt in her life, but at the same time, the confusion of her being on Titanic came back. She had mixed feelings of being back and not being home. There had to be a reason she had such a profound dream. She could feel the pain of the injuries, she could feel the tears of angst, remorse, and pain of her father possibly being dead from the crash, but in her logic, she knew that no one could have survived it.

Even her.