The Recovery Room

It was probably a little like what being born felt like. It's dark, snug and warm, and then suddenly the world comes to life. My ears woke up first. There was lots of pleasant intermittent beeping going on to my left. It felt sort of reassuring, like a heartbeat. As my mind focused on the pulse, I heard the whispers of a voice calling my name, at first, as a polite whisper, before it rudely stole my attention and forced itself into the forefront of my mind. That's when I remembered who I was and duly opened my eyes. Hazy shades of white and a large smudge of blue shuffled around for a moment. The world appeared to be upside down, until I blinked a couple of times and finally focused on a face that had been waiting quite patiently to my right.

The face was a pretty one. Wide green eyes and a flick of a blonde fringe that fell across a pale forehead and tucked neatly behind one ear.  Pretty though the face was, I didn't much care for that voice which was being exercised in my direction. As far as I was concerned, I didn't have a body. I was ears and eyes, with perhaps a little bit of a brain. Can I hear her? Am I in pain? Where does it hurt? Questions, questions from the voice that demanded me to leave my lovely blurry happy place and jump headfirst into a world where the colours were sharp, the noises loud and where I'd remember that I was attached to a body.

Oh, go on then.

Like being sucked out of a tunnel everything hit me at once: pain, shooting, stiff, helpless, whirring, fuss.

The soft pulse turned into a full on raging attack alarm. The haze scarpered revealing a shock cobalt blue curtain circling crisp white starched sheets, white matching uniforms and a white shining floor; all detached and disinfected.

I winced. A vicious sting that had been shooting through my stomach periodically, suddenly rushed up through my entire body, forcing me to feel every little bit of it. I might have blacked out for a moment. White uniforms scuttled around me. My legs were being squeezed intermittently by what looked like gigantic marshmallow flumps.  Hot blankets were lain across my body as if I was to be embalmed. All my limbs felt stiff and lifeless. My concentration circled my body, counting every twinge, each spasm, the shocks.

There was something sticking up my nose. Interesting. Finding the thought that this could be a bogey absolutely hilarious, I inappropriately snorted with laughter. The scuttlers stopped as I shot my oxygen tube halfway across my blanket, simultaneously splitting the stitches which just ten minutes prior to this event had been sewn beautifully into my belly button.

The face moved fast. 

I watched the clear liquid as it oozed through the syringe and shot up through the cannula sticking out from the thick blue vein on the back of my hand. I waited. I watched her lips form shapes as she whispered words. And I let the soft murmurs of morphine carry me off into the hazy spheres of the anaesthetic.