I recognized my shoe
I recognized my shoe.
It was over in the middle of the road. It was bloody. I realized with a numb horror that it still had my foot in it. My body and mind started to come into focus for me. I’d been hit. Hard. And broken. I tried to move my head to see what had happened. The pain that hit me from trying to do that made me scream like I didn’t know I could. White hot pain scraped up my spine and exploded in my brain with a damage report of pure agony. It was too much. My brain elected to spare me the rest of my life and I passed out. I thought I was dead.
I woke up lying in a hospital bed under white lights. It was dark outside the window. I could see my own self stretched out on the bed in the reflection. It was too blurry for me to make out my face exactly but when I raised one of my arms, the reflection did the same thing. And I.V. hung down from my wrist. My arm was very thin. I tried to sit up but it didn’t happen. My throat was very dry. I tried to say something and my throat closed like an old baseball glove catching a drive to left field. I concentrated on breathing through my nose until the spasms subsided.
I slowly creaked my head over away from the window and I saw the button marked “nurse” set into the wood of the bedside table. I very slowly reached out my hand to press it. I heard a buzzer faintly ring down the hall. It must have been very late at night. I heard a chair creak and the sound of paper slippers shuffle closer to my door. The effort on pressing the button and listening to those steps exhausted me and I fell asleep.
The next time I woke up, I felt better. I was dizzy but the sun was up outside the window. I reached up to my head and nearly knocked myself out with the cast that was on my wrist. I didn’t remember seeing that the first time I woke up. With my other hand, I felt my head. My hair was gone. Nothing but stubble. Two weeks of stubble if I had to guess.
This time when I tried to speak, my throat obeyed. “Nurse” I croaked. I doubt the word was intelligible but sound came out of me. Rusty-squeezebox style but at least I could communicate with the world. I reached over and pressed the button.
A large nurse with a friendly face came through the door and over to my bed.
“Don’t try to speak.” She said with a twinkle in her eye. “You’ve been in a horrible accident.”
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It was over in the middle of the road. It was bloody. I realized with a numb horror that it still had my foot in it. My body and mind started to come into focus for me. I’d been hit. Hard. And broken. I tried to move my head to see what had happened. The pain that hit me from trying to do that made me scream like I didn’t know I could. White hot pain scraped up my spine and exploded in my brain with a damage report of pure agony. It was too much. My brain elected to spare me the rest of my life and I passed out. I thought I was dead.
I woke up lying in a hospital bed under white lights. It was dark outside the window. I could see my own self stretched out on the bed in the reflection. It was too blurry for me to make out my face exactly but when I raised one of my arms, the reflection did the same thing. And I.V. hung down from my wrist. My arm was very thin. I tried to sit up but it didn’t happen. My throat was very dry. I tried to say something and my throat closed like an old baseball glove catching a drive to left field. I concentrated on breathing through my nose until the spasms subsided.
I slowly creaked my head over away from the window and I saw the button marked “nurse” set into the wood of the bedside table. I very slowly reached out my hand to press it. I heard a buzzer faintly ring down the hall. It must have been very late at night. I heard a chair creak and the sound of paper slippers shuffle closer to my door. The effort on pressing the button and listening to those steps exhausted me and I fell asleep.
The next time I woke up, I felt better. I was dizzy but the sun was up outside the window. I reached up to my head and nearly knocked myself out with the cast that was on my wrist. I didn’t remember seeing that the first time I woke up. With my other hand, I felt my head. My hair was gone. Nothing but stubble. Two weeks of stubble if I had to guess.
This time when I tried to speak, my throat obeyed. “Nurse” I croaked. I doubt the word was intelligible but sound came out of me. Rusty-squeezebox style but at least I could communicate with the world. I reached over and pressed the button.
A large nurse with a friendly face came through the door and over to my bed.
“Don’t try to speak.” She said with a twinkle in her eye. “You’ve been in a horrible accident.”
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