NOT ALONE

Máirín's point of view

I opened my eyes with great difficulty and sensed that I was not in any familiar surrounding. The light above me was blinding and unpleasant. I realized that a piece of plastic was covering my mouth and that there was something in my throat, and I could hear myself breathing heavily through it. A faint beeping sound rang out above me, but I couldn't make out where it was coming from. I was cold, despite the sensation of a heavy blanket covering my whole body. The only sensation of real warmth came from my right hand, which seemed to be surrounded and protected by something quite different. I moved my fingers slightly to see what could be causing this wave of heat and turned my head to see where it was coming from: that's when I saw him: Darren. He was dozing in an armchair, his head resting on his arm beside me, and he had placed his hand firmly on mine. I squeezed lightly, and managed to wake him up.

'May?' he whispered, an expression of great relief on his face.

I wanted to pronounce his name and withdraw what was in my throat, but Darren quickly stopped me and whispered:

'You have to keep this...'

I saw him press a button above my bed, before replacing a few strands of hair on my face, showing me a falsely joyful smile, his eyes shining, trying to hide his concern. A tear ran mechanically down my own face, I was scared and that tube at the back of my throat was starting to hurt. I understood that I was in hospital, and that my illness had taken its toll, but I could hardly remember what had happened. Only his face and beautiful amber eyes seemed to have a soothing effect on me.

Two nurses and a doctor arrived at my bedside, causing Darren to move aside, but not to take his eyes off me. They moved my bed back, away from the wall, and one of the nurses came and stood behind my head, disconnecting several wires and tubes to a machine I couldn't fully see.

'She seems reactive,' she asserted.

'Please take this off of her, it's hurting her!' Darren snapped indignantly.

'Miss Maitland? Can you hear me?' the nurse asked.

I nodded quickly. I felt several stings on the soles of my feet and then very light taps on my knee, which made me jump.

'She's reacting well,' said another nurse.

The person behind me was trying to keep my head upright and ordered me in a gentle voice:

'I'm going to remove the tube from your trachea. But for this to go as smoothly as possible, you're going to have to help me... I know you're tired, but this is one last effort I'm asking of you.'

I nodded, my face tense.

'When I tell you, you'll have to cough hard, alright?'

There was a moment of silence in the room, everyone had stopped bustling around me and seemed to be holding their breath.

'Go ahead!'

Everything happened very quickly. I forced a fake cough and felt the tube being violently extracted from my throat. It was both extremely painful and immeasurably liberating. However, despite the absence of the tube, it seemed to have left an unpleasant imprint in my throat. I continued coughing and hissing, this time for real, trying to clear something that didn't really exist anymore. Another nurse inserted a thin tube with two outlets into my nostrils, passing it over my ears and holding it to my face.

'Inhale through your nose... gently...'

A light trickle of fresh air came out and I did my best to feed on it. Eventually, I stopped coughing, closed my mouth slightly and only opened it to exhale.