Fuzzy Moments #2

A soft bosom holding my head against it. It seems familiar. Yes. My neighbor whom I have known most of my life. Safe. It was always safe cradled against her.

Why is this man rubbing my head? Who is he? There is a vague recollection of a mention of an IV and me saying "you better be good at this" to whom I don't know. No face comes to mind.

There is no pain from the needle as it penetrates my arm. No memory of tubes protruding from me. No concept of a journey or arrival to a hospital. No family or friends with me. Just darkness and no pain. Ah, no pain.

"You need to drink the charcoal or we will have to put an NG tube in you," said nurse Rachett with a smile. Okay maybe not but I think she was enjoying the thought.

I guess I drank it. They say I did. Ended up with a silly black toothed grin when I was finished. Probably just as well I have no awareness of that!

No sense of time...only flashes of moments. As if life was a slide show . Yes that is it! It is as if I am watching a slide show. Disconnected pictures caught in time, out of order and senseless. Only I am the subject of the show with no consciousness of what has taken place. And someone has filled in the blanks for me. And I am to trust what went on in between by what they say has happened. Surreal...so damned surreal.

Flashes: People arriving, husband, best friend. She holds me against her and cries. "You can't do this to me" she says. "You can't leave me. Don't you know what today is." The first anniversary of her dad's death. I only knew at that moment.

Flashes: Poop...lots of poop and many different people wiping my ass. Charcoal really cleans you out. Not so nice either. Gritty...different kind of pain!

Flashes: Daughter who found me sitting against the wall. Me telling her to come to the beside. Asking her what she thought. Her letting me have it. Me throwing her out. Other daughter going with her. Not my best moment. But then how does is get worse at this point?

Lucidity begins to reign. Not much but some. I am in the 'bad girl hall'. Under surveillance. Someone outside my door watching my every move. At some point it becomes clear to me. I am not going home.

Welcome to "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest"