the next to do list

chapter three

Do you know how they say 'all in a day's work'? Well, that's how I'm feeling now only this days work was a living nightmare.

Today I found out I've lost my memories, died for a few minutes. I was in a coma for a while and was attempted murder. So this is easily the worst day of my life...not that I remembered.

Rose left a couple of hours ago because of visiting hours were over, she promised to come back tomorrow. I hated to admit it but I felt very alone. Even Dr. Hans sounded like a good company, even though he would probably just give me more bad news like he always did.

After rose left he told me I had a type of amnesia called retrograde amnesia. He explained it like this. I still have all of my skills, emotions, and personality traits from before but I have no memory of how they were used or how I got them. He also said it was possible for me to retrieve some of my memories but getting all or even the majority was next to impossible. It was around midnight and I couldn't sleep, for obvious reasons. So I went through the basics of my life.

My name is Mia gold, I am 22 years old, my only family is my sister, Rosalie Gold, I am diagnosed with amnesia, no known friends, and was an attempted murdered victim. The only thing that could make my life more bizarre would be finding out I was some government agent or was one of the astronauts who landed on the moon.

I kept on hoping some unknown friend would walk in the door and tell me it would be ok. I must have fallen asleep because I woke up the next morning to the sound of my nurse, Nora, bringing in my tray of breakfast. I thought about greeting her but knew it would only be painful and I wasnt up for another chat session. So instead we just exchange glances and once she was done she walked out. A little later Dr. Hans walked in.

" Hey, Mia." He said like we were friends

"Anything you left out from yesterday?"

"I just came to tell you the schedule you'll be on for the next little while."

"I have a schedule?"

"Not one like you might imagine. You will be in your room for the majority of the day, just with other facilities."

"Like?"

"Well, you will have an hour of counseling 5 days of the week, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You will take short walks to keep your muscles from cramping." He said, "also daily check-ups with me."

"Man all you need now is bedtime and this is practically paradise," I said sarcastically

"Actually you are advised to go to sleep no later than the ten'O clock to give your body the proper rest it needs to repair itself." He said amused

"Well, there you have it," I said throwing my arms up but immediately regretting it as I lower them back down painfully.

"Look I know it's not 'paradise' but we are trying to help you recover to the best of our abilities."

"I know," I said feeling a little bad for complaining. He walked out and not long after, my counselor walked in.

"Hello Mia, my name is Dr. Elizabeth Heber." She said taking a seat on the couch next to my bed.

"So you're like my therapist?"

"Theoretically speaking, yes." She says looking over some papers

"What's that mean."

"I'm a counselor, not a therapist."

"Aren't they the same thing?"

"No, therapy is more long distance and permanent than counseling. Counseling is to help make sure you're on the right track and therapy is giving advice for someone who asks for it." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. They sounded like the same thing

"So am I on the right path?"

"That is what I'm here to figure out." She said then finally looked up from her clipboard. "What do you think of all this?" Of course, she starts out with the typical therapy line

"I think it kinda sucks."

"Why is that?"  Why do you think? I thought but instead, I said

"Because I lost my memories."

"Is that the only reason?"

"And I hurt really bad right now." She wrote something down.
What could she be getting out of this?

"What do you plan on doing once you've recovered?" Why does she keep asking questions?

"Probably get a job."

"Is that what you want to do?"

"There is nothing else for me to do."

"Why not?" she asked and I was starting to getting a little frustrated. Why the heck did she think?

"I don't know maybe cause I need money," I said and she dropped the subject. But not before writing something in her trusty old' notebook

"What job do you want to have?"

"I don't know, whatever job I can get. I mean not very many people will want an employee who doesn't remember her own life."

"Why do you think that?"  Her face still perfectly composed

"It limits me in a way other people aren't and if you're going to get an employee might as well get the better one."

"How does this limit you?"

"I can't remember my past and Dr. Hans said I'll have trouble remembering things in the present as well."

" Not knowing your past doesn't limit your ability to work. You still possess your skills from before. And as for the present time, you shouldn't have trouble with that by the time you're out of the hospital."

I thought about it. I wasn't sure what surprised me more, the fact she actually made sense or that she didn't respond with a question.

"I guess your right." She continued writing things down. When I remembered something "hey is it normal to have dreams while you're in a coma?"

"Yes, it isn't very likely but it has happened before. Why do you ask?"

"While I was in my comma I had a dream. It didn't make sense at all but I remember it in perfect detail."

"That is rare, especially in your case. What did you dream?"

I told her about my dream A/N (first chapter nonsense) in detail and when I was finished she said

"It is likely that was a way for your mind to preserve part of a memory."

"They told me I lost all my memories."

"It is possible your mind was not done processing your memory to your long- term memory when you lost your memory and that was your brain's way of piecing together that information." She said it like it wasn't a big deal

"So my dream was a memory?"

"No just like all other dreams it holds information from your reality and spin it into the fantasy of a dream."

"So it was just a dream?"

"Yes but it holds memory in it."

"So it's a memory?"

"No."

"Wait but you just said-" I was saying but then she cut me off

"Look it is possible it's all just random jib-erish and has nothing to do with you." she stood up "and it is a dream." She said and closed the door behind her.

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So here's another one. Nothing big going on right now, but what about the dream?
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