Page 28 of She Found Me

I can’t hear anything other than the voice in my head. No, wait, I do hear something. Is that someone talking? It’s muffled. No, it’s gone.

There it is again. It is definitely a voice. I can’t quite make out what it’s saying, though.

I’m feeling different now. I can feel, which is different. Everything is heavy, and I can feel my arms. I can’t move them, but I definitely feel them now.

I’m starting to feel my body. Maybe I’m not dead. Maybe I’m asleep.

Yes, it’s definitely voices I can hear.

“Arianna? I think she’s waking up.”

Arianna—do I recognise that name? My eyes feel lighter. I can open them. It’s blurry, but I can see the silhouettes of two people. Panic sets in as I try to talk, but I choke. There’s something in my throat. Gasping for breath, I try and lift my arms to remove what is restricting me. But my arms won’t move.

“Just relax, Arianna. You are safe in hospital. There is a tube in your mouth to help you breathe. I’m going to give you something to relax you. When you wake again, you will feel much better.”

A second later I am back in the darkness.

When I wake again, I’m not sure I would say I feel better. I’m no longer choking, which I am thankful for, but my throat is excruciating. Swallowing is difficult, and my mouth is dry and sore. My eyes roam the area around me. I’m in a small room, lying in a bed.

There is a man sitting at my side. As I turn to look at him, I feel the pressure of something covering my face. This time I manage to lift one of my arms up in front of me. Bandages weigh heavy, covering my hand to my elbow. Someone else enters the room. A doctor I presume from the way he is dressed.

“Arianna, it is good to see you awake. I’m Doctor Clarke. I’m one of your consultants. Would it be okay if we had a little chat?” He pulls a seat up to the side of my bed. “Firstly, I just want to make you aware that you are in the hospital, we are taking very good care of you, and you are doing remarkably well. Your husband is here, and you have no need to worry.” The doctor gestures to the man sitting at the other side of my bed.

I have no recollection of this man whatsoever. When I try and speak, no words come out. All I can do is cough. The pain I feel throughout my body when my chest heaves for air is crippling.

“Arianna, please relax and don’t try and talk just yet. I’m going to hold your hand, and I want you to squeeze it once for yes and twice for no.” The doctor takes my hand gently in his. “Do you understand?”

I squeeze his hand.

“Yes, good job, Arianna. Two weeks ago, you were involved in a very serious accident. Do you remember the accident?”

I think for a moment. Nothing. I know I should remember; I know I have memories. It’s like they are in a locked cabinet, and I just can’t turn the key far enough to release them. I squeeze his hand twice.

“No. That’s perfectly understandable, Arianna. You have suffered a serious head injury, and it will take time to recover. But I assure you, I will do everything I can to help you get back to yourself.”

My breath catches, and an emotional cry releases from my lips.

“During the accident, you sustained many bone fractures and second and third degree burns to your face, chest, and limbs. When you were brought into the hospital, we felt it was best to place you in an induced coma in order to let your brain get the rest it needed and have the greatest chance of recovery. During the past few weeks, we have performed multiple skin graft procedures, which involved shaving a thin layer of healthy skin and covering the damaged areas with it. I’m pleased to say these operations were very successful, and we expect minimal scarring. But Arianna, you have a long road of recovery ahead of you.”

The doctor continues to talk, but my mind is elsewhere. It’s too much to comprehend. I’m frustrated I can’t remember anything. I feel trapped in my own body. I want to rip myself out of my skin and run free. But I can’t.

“I’m going to leave you now to get some rest, as you’ve had a lot to take in.”

The doctor lets go of my hand and asks the man who I’m told is my husband to join him outside the room.

As they leave, a nurse enters.

“Arianna, it’s lovely to see you awake. My name is Donna. I’m one of your nurses.” She takes hold of my hand. Her hand is warm, and her eyes are comforting. “Now, are you in any pain, Arianna? Squeeze once for yes, twice for no.”

I squeeze her hand. I’m so uncomfortable.

“I thought so. Right, I’m going to give you some pain relief through your IV. Then in about ten minutes, once the medication has started to work, I’m going to change your dressings. Is that ok with you?”

I squeeze her hand.

Donna is one of those people you can’t help but like. She has a beautiful smile and is kind and caring. When she removes the dressings and cleans my wounds, she is gentle and constantly checks how I am feeling. She assures me I won’t be left with too much scarring and that the surgeons have done an incredible job.

“You are so beautiful, Arianna,” Donna compliments as she treats the skin on my face. “How about a drink of water? Would you like to try having a drink?”

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