Slipping Away

Chapter 4

I wasn't worried. I was surprisingly relaxed. I was rushed into the hospital, and I heard the paramedics explaining what had happened to the nurses and doctors. I could hear the hustle and bustle of lots of people around me. There was the beeps of machines and monitors, the rustling of sterilised wrappers and latex gloves, and the shout of 'Can we get paediatrics on the phone please, we need the team down here ASAP.' I heard a nurse say to Liam "Come this way, let's leave the doctors to look after Molly." Liam tried to resist but he eventually gave in, stroking my cheek for one last time before he left. I was prodded and poked, shaken and tickled. I was connected up to a ventilator that breathed for me. That was a relief, since breathing had been using up all of my energy. The doctors and nurses told me everything that happened to me. Several different people spoke to me, trying to get me to wake up. I tried, but I couldn't. I wanted to. I wanted to open my eyes, and tell them that I was fine. But I just couldn't. I heard the doors clatter open, and more people entered the room. I guessed it was the paediatric team that had been called for earlier. One of the doctors, who told me his name was Mark, told the group who had just come in, "Right, it looks like we have a comatose individual,16 years old, she's got a severe head injury with brain swelling, compound tib/fib fractures, a femur break, a spiral break of the left humerus, a bruised spleen, punctured left lung, severe loss of blood, she needs to be taken to theatre right now, can we get ICU on standby please." I was vaguely worried, but not really. I wasn't scared of dying. I just wanted to get rid of the pain. Another needle was stuck into my arm, and my consciousness slipped away from me.

A long time later, and I woke up inside my head. I panicked for a minute, not knowing where I was. Then I remembered. The accident, the A&E department, the needle. It was much quieter now. I realised that I must have had an operation. I could feel the ventilator tube in my mouth, and the tubes in my hand. There was still the beep of machines. I heard someone near me, crying. It wasn't Liam. Then I realised that it must be my mum. There was a nurse reassuring her. Mum was holding my hand. That was unusual. I dozed, letting my mind drift. Mum talked to me, but I was dreaming and her words broke into my dream and seemed out of place. I slept for what must have been hours. When I woke up, Mum had gone and someone else was sitting next to me and holding my hand. This time it was Liam. He was holding my hand and stroking my cheek. His voice was cracked and hushed. He was singing. It seemed to be some kind of lullaby, but I couldn't quite hear him. I felt numb and warm, and dozy, probably because of the drugs they were giving me. Liam just sat there, singing quietly. He sounded so sad, so alone. All I wanted to do was to sit up and give him a hug. But I couldn't. I kept trying. I did. But it didn't work. I was locked inside my own head, and I didn't have the key to get out. All I could do was lie there and listen, listen as Liam's voice got quieter and quieter, listen as he burst into tears, listen as he tried to conceal his sobs. He was begging me, begging me to wake up, to show him a sign that I was there, that I could hear him. I desperately wanted to. I could hear him, every word. But I couldn't show him that I could. I don't know how long I lay there, listening to Liam's sobs. I was crying inside. Eventually I dozed off, dreaming of a beautiful garden. Liam was there, but it wasn't really him. He had wings and so did I. We were flying around. It was very odd, and I was rather confused. When I woke up, Liam had gone and there was only the nurse there, changing a dressing on my head and injecting something else into the back of my hand. She chatted to me but I didn't take any of it in. I was too busy thinking about Liam and when I would wake up.

Every so often, a group of doctors would come in and peer at me. I presumed it was one or 2 qualified doctors and a little group of students. The doctor pulled back me eyelids, shone lights in my eyes, changed the dressing on my head and tickled my toes to see if I would wake up. I didn't. He told the students about what he was doing and what was wrong with me. At one point he listed all of my injuries. It's quite a long list. I had: a severe head injury with serious brain swelling, a ruptured spleen (which had been removed soon after I entered the hospital), compound fractures of both of my lower legs (compound fractures is when the broken bones either stick out of the leg or there is cut that leaves them open to the air), a bad break in my femur (thigh bone), a spiral break of my left arm, internal injuries including a punctured lung and numerous cuts and bruises. The doctors said it might take weeks for me to wake up. Then they went outside and I could hear them talking about me. I couldn't quite hear what they were saying, because they were talking quietly. I hoped it wasn't bad news. I didn't want to die.