Position of Trust

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I’ve always disliked hospitals. It’s the constant coldness and lack of life that lingers within the walls. The mere idea of a building designed to be the Home of Death ought to make anyone capable of emotion shudder. Even so, death is something that hasn’t scared me for a long time. When I look back now, somewhere along the line I must have just accepted the fact that we will all die someday as one of the laws of the universe: something that was definite and unchangeable. However, that day laying there paralysed in a mass of sickeningly clean white bed sheets I was frightened of it. I suppose that’s the reaction the mind has to certain situations - forgetting every rule you’ve ever lived by to make way for one stupid defence mechanism: fear.

Even nowadays, people ask me to describe exactly what happened to my life after I found the energy to lift that first eyelid. I see the glint of anticipation in a young girl’s eyes; she is of course seeking a response as enthusiastic as she is, so I give her one. Then I hate myself for the rest of the day for sounding like some corny superhero out of Marvel. So I’ve promised myself not to do that anymore because I don’t like it, I don’t like the lies. I like me. In fact I love me. And the truth from me says this:

It began as a soft pulsing at the back of my head; something I wouldn’t usually have regarded as anything, maybe a headache. Never, has a bit of discomfort, escalated into a surge of pain so quickly. It grew stronger as it twined itself around my neck like a vine and raced up to the back of my head and sat there throbbing. Previously, I had started to become accustomed to the sudden light and began making out the shapes of a door and lampshade. Now everything was a white blur. It was only then when my vision was distorted, that I noticed a noise for the first time since waking up - a high-pitched frequent beep.

The events that occurred afterwards are far from clear in my mind, far from organised.  I sensed someone enter the room, I heard them pull the door firmly and the sound of it being locked. To my surprise, lifting my head to see this unknown person wasn’t even uncomfortable-the only pain I could feel was the constant pounding at the back of my head. I could see this man was uniformed in the same way as the room – my eyes were picking out a bit more now. A sharp crease ran up the front of his dead white scrubs where his legs brushed the foot of the bed. Tall and serious, he stood with a pen and a clipboard in one hand and a stunning blue stethoscope hanging unevenly around his neck. Just as my eyes were about to study the face of the unknown doctor, he spoke.

‘Lindsay Stewarts’, a loud but gentle voice echoed around the room, ‘have you any feelings of nausea, sudden tiredness, or pain- particularly in the head, please be sure to inform me.’

His voice was very soothing; it made me feel at ease in his presence. However, slightly angered by the lack of a proper introduction, I decided to set any feelings of trust beside until I at least found out this doctor’s name.

‘I’m afraid you’ve been involved in an accident, Lindsay. You and your dad were up on the roof of your house mending a leak- I am told, when you slipped and fell. The gutter of your house did break your fall but you still suffered significant damage to your head- you really are an extremely lucky girl to have survived such a drop. Memory loss is very common with this type of hit to the head; you will probably remember basic skills like walking, reading, and how to speak. Details like friends and family or school will probably be gone, though.’

Stunned, for the first time I actually wondered what I was doing here and why I couldn’t remember my life. What was happening? Before I could ask him any further questions he left, leaving me only with the hum of the machines in the room. As I lay back in the bed I noticed my arm was connected to a drip, a wire ran up into a small plastic bag of brilliant blue liquid. Strange, I thought-I’d never seen a medicine this colour before. My mind was overflowing with all this shocking new information and I was worn out already after only being awake an hour or so. My eyes flickered shut and at once I entered a vivid dream.                                                                  

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 11, 2013 ⏰

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