It started off with a sensation of slow intermittent throbbing, like an old engine sputtering to life. As the throbbing increased in tempo, flashes of light, like a 70’s disco ball flashed in his eyes. Joe was waking up. Finally the throbbing evened out into the repetitive beat of a heartbeat monitor and the lights coalesced into a straight line. His eyes flickered open and regained focus. His mouth felt dry and slowly, as feeling returned, many aches and pains made themselves known. Dull pains, like they were being held at bay by some hidden guardian, but present nonetheless. Joe attempted to move his head to gain a view of his surroundings but suddenly felt a bout of panic, He couldn’t move! He relaxed and attempted to move his head again, this time gaining some success at the cost of a wave of dizziness. This provoked the ECG that started to beep like an irritating alarm clock. Finally a nurse poked her head around the open doorway to see Joe’s eyes rotating in his skull. Sucking in cold hair, she quickly made her way to his bedside. “Mr. Peters? Joe? Can you hear me?” She removed a penlight from her pocket and flashed it in Joe’s eyes, content to see pupil dilation. “Joe, are you awake?” she asked again.
Joe attempted a reply, but his voice came out like a rusty grunt, croaking its way back into action. He cleared his throat with a moan and then replied faintly. “I can hear you”.
The nurse, Nancy Young as it stated on her NHS badge, smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a sack of shit” he replied, grimacing and then adding “I mean not good” going as far as to blush. Nancy laughed good naturedly “haha I’m sure, and i’m sure you also have lots of questions. Let me see if I can get the Doctor and I’ll return. Press that button by your hands if you need anything desperately” she turned to leave and then paused looking back. “You have probably noticed by now, but you have a catheter inserted so don’t move about too much”. With that she left as Joe looked towards the centre of his body with a look of bewilderment.
Half an hour passed and Joe lay there in confusion, attempting to organise his thoughts, ‘I was cycling’ he thought, ‘and then the car…’. He looked towards his right arm and attempted to move it. There was no response. He looked towards his left as the bedcovers raised slightly; success! His right again, nothing. Joe frowned, and then looked to his left as he saw a white clothed woman approach with Nancy following close behind.
“Ah glad to see you awake Joe, you had us worried there. I am Doctor Jones and I have supervised your condition since you moved here from intensive care. Hmm “she tapped her pen against her lips. “I’m getting ahead of myself, you were in a serious accident. You suffered some serious injuries to your right shoulder including the tearing of ligaments and nerves, along with absolute dislocation, the breaking of your right clavicle, 8 shattered ribs and some additional brain trauma from the impact to the ground. Frankly Mr. Peters, you are lucky to be alive!”. The doctor looked at Joe with a form of admiration, whether for him personally or the miracle of medical care was known only to her. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Joe stared at the effusive doctor blanky. “So…?” he asked tentatively.
The doctor’s expression turned serious whilst Nancy shifted nervously in the background. “ There’s no easy way to say this Mr Peters so I''ll cut to the chase. Your right arm is completely paralysed with almost absolute 100% certainty of it staying that way. Your brain has suffered such trauma that the implications will likely be quite severe, including dizziness, loss of memory or even loss of general faculties. You”. Here she paused to take a breath expression turning kinder, “ you have been comatose for..” she looked at Nancy raising an eyebrow.
“452 days Doctor”.
“Right, 452 days, and as such you are now in the comatose ward here in Margate Hospital”. She looked down at Joe to see what response her words were having on her patient. Joe didn’t react immediately, at least outwardly. He ran the blunt doctor’s words back through his sluggish mind. ‘Paralysed? Comatose? 452 days?’. Finally the muscles in his face started to move. “452 days?” he asked.
“Mhmm, quite a long time indeed. Of course your family has been made aware and” she paused again looking at Nancy.
“His brother Darius and his grandparents are both aware and I took the liberty to call them before I alerted you Doctor”. Dr Jones nodded sagely, turning back to Joe. “I’m sure you have many questions, but it is better you take some time to process what I have told you. The nurse will talk you through the stages of rehabilitation as many of your muscles have a certain degree of atrophy. Your family should be here to visit you tomorrow if you feel up to it and I will have an appointment set up next week where we’ll discuss your case in depth and your future steps. Sound good?” Joe nodded slightly, and watched the Doctor and nurse walk back through the ward to the hallway.
One could say that Joe had quite the stoic temperament, similarly as to when his father had died, or when he caught the love of his life in the arms of another, his emotions remained in check. He attempted to break down the situation to realise the implications and maybe stave off despair. No right arm? So I can learn with my left surely? However, the almost year and a half comatose, not to mention how long the possible future recovery will take. Christ on a bike! I can barely move my neck at the moment. What about Oxford, my degree? His heart began to beat faster and faster as panic set in. I was 19 when I crashed, am I 21 now? A wave of dizziness hit his mind and the emotional stress became too much. He passed out.