Friday, March 2, 2012

Creative Writing: Semi-Consciousness

This is a selection Mom wrote for a creative writing class in 1993. It's a story about someone drifting in and out of consciousness. The picture is Mom from about the time this story was written, 1993.

I remember waking up to the sound of the radio playing a basketball game. It was the state basketball tournament with its exciting tones of cheering high school fans. I, however, was not very excited. Coming into semi-consciousness, I realized that I was not in an ordinary bed. Lying flat on my back unable to move and a nurse standing beside me taking my pulse, blood pressure and talking to me. My voice did not work although my mind was loaded with questions. The game still on, I lapsed back into my sleep.

What seemed like much later, I awoke again. This time I was in a room. It was now quiet. My mother was sitting on a chair beside me. My head, fuzzy trying to focus. The questions began, where am I and why, filtered through my subconscious.

"Honey, it's ok," my mother was saying. "We love you, can you hear me?"

My mouth tried to move, but nothing came out. I was very tired. Flashes of memory came back. The ice ... very cold ... lights ... bright lights ... it's gone. I sleep again.

There is someone pulling on my arm. This time it hurts! My whole body hurts! Oh, I've never hurt so much. All of my strength is used to open my eyes. There are people everywhere. This time I manage to speak, "Where am I?" "Mom!"

"Sally, hello, my name is Dr. Gordon. You are in a hospital."

He was a very tall, slim man with a kind face and slight beard. His blue eyes are concerned, and looked at me wondering how much he should tell me. His gentle hand reached for mine and held it tightly.

"Oh, I feel so awful" I managed to say, "Why did I feel so awful?"

"Do you remember anything?"

"I remember the cold, very cold, lights, crash - There was an accident."

Suddenly, as though a vision flashed in front of me, "Where is Sammy?"

"Your little boy is here, too. He has had some injuries. All I can say right now is he is holding his own. Now let's talk about you. The lower part of your body has been damaged severely. How severely, we can only guess at this point. We did some surgery to stop internal bleeding."

Only half of what he was saying was I able to comprehend. "What time is it, how long have I been here," was all I could manage to say.

Connie, Jan. 20, 1993

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