and minor scrapes; some were scabbed, and others were red lines where scabs had fallen off. My body looked as if it had been to war and back again. I tried to remember what had happened to me, I closed my eyes and forced myself to think about the accident that the nurse had spoken about, but I drew a complete blank.
“I don’t remember anything about an accident.”
“That’s okay,” the nurse said with a warm smile. “What’s important is that you’re conscious and alert, you’re moving around beautifully too. I can see it hurts, but movement is good. Can you feel all your fingers and toes?”
“Yes,” I answered. “But everywhere . . . hurts. My leg and my head the most.”
“I know, love,” she said, as she moved to my right and attached the painkiller bag to the IV that was already in my arm. “This will help a little. You’ll start to feel some relief in a few minutes.”
I hoped she was right.
“Which hospital is this?”
“King’s College,” she answered.
I nodded; it was my local hospital. It made sense for me to be treated here. I glanced at her name badge and caught the words “Intensive Care Unit” above her name, and my heart just about stopped. My eyes darted up to hers in an instant.
“ICU?” I said, baffled. “Your name badge says ICU. That’s for critically ill patients though. Am I okay?”
Talking so fast made my words sound jumbled together even to my own ears. Fear slammed into me like a train, and the beeping from the machine was faster now and more bothersome than before.
“Now, honey, you need to calm down. This is the ICU, but you’re okay, you have to listen to me—”
Our attention turned to the door when it suddenly opened. I watched as a middle-aged male doctor walked in and I felt relieved to see him. He had dark brown skin like the nurse, his eyes were soft and his smile was bright. The nurse seemingly didn’t have answers to my questions, but maybe he would.
“What happened to me?” I asked as he took a step towards me. “How did I get here? Why am I—”
“Whoa.” The doctor raised his hands in front of his chest and chuckled. “Give me a second to look at you, Noah. I’m Doctor Abara, it’s wonderful to see you alert.”
I tried to relax, but I couldn’t.
I was in pain, and the not knowing how I came to be in hospital was stressing me out. The doctor came to my bedside and asked me to do a few things before we could talk. I followed his little penlight, then his finger, then when he touched a part of my body with his pen, he asked me if I could feel it. I told him that I could feel everywhere the pen touched. He asked me to say the names of random objects when he pointed them out. He asked me to move my arms and legs and toes. It pleased him when I completed each task.
“Can you remember anything about your time with us, Noah?” he quizzed, and I noted then that he spoke with an accent. “Anything at all.”
“A tiny bit,” I answered. “I woke up once before now, but I must have fallen back asleep. I opened my eyes and I was here, but I don’t know how I got here. The nurse says I was in an accident but I can’t remember any accident.”
He nodded and made a note of some sort on the chart in his hand. We went through a series of questions about my well-being, about my pain level from one to ten, and a bunch of other things I didn’t really care about. When the examination was over and the doctor had finished making notes on what I now knew was my personal patient chart, he looked up at me and smiled once more.
“I know this is tiresome, but I could go back to jail if I don’t follow protocol.”
I blinked. “You’ve been to jail?”
“Once,” he answered with a nod. “In Monopoly. It wasn’t fun, I’ll tell you that much.”
I stared at him in silence, then he laughed and looked at the nurse and said, “Tough crowd.”
I humoured him when his gaze returned to mine. “Ha ha.”
“Sorry.” He grinned. “No more bad jokes.”
“You can tell me a million of them after you answer my questions,” I bargained. “How does that sound?”