My vision was hazy, but slowly a brightly lit room came into view.
An off-white coloured ceiling caught my attention the second my vision could focus. Like the beeping, it was familiar to me, but I had no idea what place it was linked to. For a few minutes, I did nothing but stare at the ceiling as I waited for the pain in my head to fade. It never went away, but eventually the pounding gave way to a throb. Though it was constant and still very painful, I could just about tolerate it. I had no choice but to endure it.
I attempted to say “hello” but my voice didn’t sound like my own. The word came out as a slur, barely coherent to my own ears. I tried to say it again, but it felt like my tongue was suddenly too big for my mouth. I wasn’t sure how long I was lying there figuring out how to work my tongue, when suddenly the sensation that the muscle was too big just faded away.
“Hello!”
My voice was hoarse and my throat itched, like I needed to down a litre of water to soothe it, but I said the word loud and clear. It felt like a victory of sorts. I tried to clear my throat to scratch the itch, but the action proved to be too painful, so I resisted the urge to cough, even though that was what my body desperately wanted to do. I carefully attempted to sit up, but I couldn’t. My body felt like a heavy weight and I wasn’t strong enough to lift it. Though I couldn’t move all that well, I could turn my head from side to side. I slowly looked to my right and the decor – and machinery – that came into view told me where I was instantly.
A hospital, or medical clinic of some kind.
The beeping I heard seemed to come from a machine that appeared to register my heart rate. I didn’t linger on it; the sound was ear-piercing and sharp. Instead, I turned my attention to finding the Call button that every hospital, or medical facility, had. I hoped it wasn’t on the wall to the left or right of the bed, because I hadn’t got the strength to move my body. I didn’t seem to have the strength to do anything.
I was thoroughly exhausted, and before I could attempt to move, my eyes drifted shut and forcibly pulled me into a dreamless slumber.
A throbbing ache in my leg brought me back into awareness. My eyes darted open and once again I found myself staring at the off-white ceiling. It took me a minute to think straight and realise that I wasn’t dreaming. I was in a hospital, I reminded myself. I needed to speak to someone. A nurse, a doctor, anyone.
The Call button.
I needed to press that bloody Call button, wherever it was. I moved my arms, jerky movements at first, and felt a pulse reader on the index finger of my right hand. My left hand skimmed over a wire next to my hip. I tugged on it and a remote of some kind came into contact with my hand. Moving hurt more than it should; in fact, my whole body was sore. I bit my lip to focus on feeling the buttons. I couldn’t tell what any of them were for so, as best as I could, I tugged it on to my chest. I peered down for a moment and saw a large red button. I wasn’t sure what it did, but I pressed it anyway.
I exhaled a deep breath, the simple movements having completely drained me.
For a few seconds, nothing happened, and I worried that I’d pressed the wrong button, but then noises and a voice came from my left. I heard a door opening followed by soft footsteps. A face suddenly appeared over me and it startled me. It was a woman who appeared to be in her mid- to late fifties; she had dark brown skin, and eyes to match.
“Hi there,” the lady said. “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”
I winced, the volume of her voice causing the already painful ache in my head to worsen.
“Too loud. My head,” I rasped, finding that talking was a little difficult. “It hurts so bad.”
The woman frowned and lowered her voice. “I’m going to page your doctor so he can come see you right away. I’ll get you pain relief while I’m out there. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”
I didn’t want her to leave me, but I urgently needed the painkillers that she could provide, so I tentatively said, “Okay.”
When she disappeared from view, I began to panic. I was terrified that she wouldn’t come back and that I’d be stuck in the position I was in with no one to help me. I could barely lift my head or move my body. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, or what had happened to put me in the situation I was in, but whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t good.