The room was spinning slightly, everything was out of focus, and her
entire body felt like it was coated in syrup and cotton wool. There was a
tingling behind her eyes, forcing her to screw her eyes up tight before
battling open slightly. The room around her was very clean and sterile, as
if everything had been preserved with ceramwrap to stop sticky fingers
getting to it. The sheets were wrapped tightly round her body and
everything seemed distant and foreign, like just after a nightmare you
believed to be real. There was a clock on the wall, it chimed with seconds
passing, and it was the only thing that seemed to make sense in the whole
universe for at least a minuet as the girl stared at it, eyes opened with
wonder trying to remember what had happened. And what happened. How much of
it was just a bad dream? Had she ever spoken to god? Was it all due to...
Lyme disease was it? The thinking made Joans head spin more and nothing,
not even the clock made sense when she tried to piece together what had and
hadn't happened in the past 9 months.
"I'm glad to see your awake Joan" a voice from behind her chanted. Straining there was an African American nurse fiddling with some plastic flowers in a plastic vase.
"Whaaaa?" she wanted to ask questions, but none came to mind three seconds after the moment when her mind had been swimming in nothing but questions.
"You worried everybody Joan. The doctors didn't know if you were going to make it. But I knew." There was a pause, the woman was wonderfully round and cuddly, and a yellow cardy clung round her nurse's uniform and a pair of small round glasses dangling round her neck.
"Your not..."
"Not what sweetie? Listen, I'll go tell a certain someone outside your awake, they've been hanging around for almost 3 days straight..." before Joan could ask any more questions the nurse was gone. A tight knot fastened inside her stomach. She wasn't sure if it was nerves or the sickness. Who had been waiting around, her first thought was her parents, but the nurse would have said so, wouldn't she? Next was Adam. He'd care about her. Right? They hadn't broken up... had they? And even if they had he'd still wanna know if she was alright. But it was 10:43; wouldn't he have work at that hotel? Maybe it was grace, but she didn't seem the type to hang around hospitals for days with nothing better to do. Best friends they were almost, but what that meant to Grace was still a mystery to Joan. Probably to just about everyone infact. Who else would it be? No one came to mind, and the idea that Joan had so few people in her life depressed her. A shadow fell over her bed, almost ominously so. Craning her neck she saw a face she had not expected to see. Words failed her. Reaching out an arm she found her thumb brushing past a cheek of flesh and rosy skin. The weight that lurched onto the side of the hospital bed was another sign that it wasn't a figment of imagination.
"Hello Joan."
"But I.... You... It's...."
"I'm glad to see your awake Joan" a voice from behind her chanted. Straining there was an African American nurse fiddling with some plastic flowers in a plastic vase.
"Whaaaa?" she wanted to ask questions, but none came to mind three seconds after the moment when her mind had been swimming in nothing but questions.
"You worried everybody Joan. The doctors didn't know if you were going to make it. But I knew." There was a pause, the woman was wonderfully round and cuddly, and a yellow cardy clung round her nurse's uniform and a pair of small round glasses dangling round her neck.
"Your not..."
"Not what sweetie? Listen, I'll go tell a certain someone outside your awake, they've been hanging around for almost 3 days straight..." before Joan could ask any more questions the nurse was gone. A tight knot fastened inside her stomach. She wasn't sure if it was nerves or the sickness. Who had been waiting around, her first thought was her parents, but the nurse would have said so, wouldn't she? Next was Adam. He'd care about her. Right? They hadn't broken up... had they? And even if they had he'd still wanna know if she was alright. But it was 10:43; wouldn't he have work at that hotel? Maybe it was grace, but she didn't seem the type to hang around hospitals for days with nothing better to do. Best friends they were almost, but what that meant to Grace was still a mystery to Joan. Probably to just about everyone infact. Who else would it be? No one came to mind, and the idea that Joan had so few people in her life depressed her. A shadow fell over her bed, almost ominously so. Craning her neck she saw a face she had not expected to see. Words failed her. Reaching out an arm she found her thumb brushing past a cheek of flesh and rosy skin. The weight that lurched onto the side of the hospital bed was another sign that it wasn't a figment of imagination.
"Hello Joan."
"But I.... You... It's...."