Wake Up Call

 

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Four or five seconds had passed since I was put under, my eyes where closed and I could hear muffled voices coming from another room. I couldn't tell how many, whether they were men or women. The voices where harmonic and reassuring. I was comfortable, warm all snuggly. Consciously I assumed I was just on the fringe of deeper sedation. I was happy cozy and relaxed. I didn’t know where I was, wrapped in a snuggie, in a womb like state, it was perfection. Completely cozy and peaceful. Then the lights came on.

 

Abruptly my eyes opened, the light was soft and incandescent. What the fuck?! They just put me under, why were they waking me? Not another reject, I’ve only been under a matter of minutes. My mind raced, I tried to talk, and I couldn’t speak. I had something in my throat, in my nose, IV’s in my arms and neck. Electronic sensors taped to my body, pulse indicators on my fingers. Shit. I was annoyed, why was I being pulled out of my beautiful peaceful slumber. Something went wrong! Slowly I realized the nurses and doctor’s hovering over me weren’t flustered or freaked out. They seemed calm and relaxed. They were talking to me, asking me questions that I couldn’t understand. … That’s when I realized I was out of the O.R. and in recovery, the soft lighting, no masks, a sort of normal looking room. Ahhh… I was out. I wondered how it went.

 

The nurses and attendants kept talking to me, asking me questions. Annoying me, they wanted me to do something, I didn’t know what. I think maybe they were asking me if I could hear them. I couldn’t nod or speak. A voice from the door said “Ask him to raise his head.” They didn’t have to ask, as soon as I heard that I raised my head so fast and so high off the pillow they laughed and immediately went into action. Tubes were removed from my throat and nose, sensors where removed and replaced with others. They asked me to raise my head again, I couldn’t, that first head raise took every ounce of energy I had.

 

They asked me to speak, I couldn’t. I kept trying to say water, I don’t know if my mouth moved, I only know no sound came out. The people around me look at me confused, I saw my brother. I tried to mouth the word water. Nothing. That’s when I realized I wasn’t breathing. I don’t know how long it’d been since I took a breath but I felt like I needed oxygen, now. I breathed in, nothing happened, I tried again, still nothing. Now panic set in. Did I go through all this just to die from suffocation? I’d been shot at, o.ded. stabbed, wrecked multiple motorcycles and hit by a car. I didn’t want to go out like this! The medical staff just worked around me nonchalantly as if everything was okay. I tried screaming and nothing came out. I tried flailing around and my body didn’t move. I could feel the oxygen depletion taking its toll. Crazy thoughts ran through my mind, would I come out of this, would I send my life as a vegetable, roaming the minds memories? Finally after what felt like hours but I’m sure was only minutes I was able to take a breath. It was like an anti-plunge, rising rapidly from the depths of cold water and spewing out into the atmosphere gasping for air. I’m sure the reality was a small breath of air, but what a relief for me.

 

I looked around the room the medical staff and my brother looking back at me. They tried propping me up, asking me questions. I couldn’t speak, I wanted water, after scribbling nonsense on a pad trying to write the word water and the symbol for H20 I was finally able to mouth the word water while pointing at my mouth.

 

They allowed my brother to swab my mouth and lips with a sponge with enough water on it that wouldn’t satisfy a bird. Damn, I was thirsty.

 

“Mr. Fathman?” one of the surgeons said.

 

I nodded.

 

“The operation was a success. You’re the proud parent of a brand new liver. It couldn’t of gone any better.”

 

I nodded. Gave him the thumbs up. Smiled slightly.

 

I looked at my brother, tried to write 1,4,3 on the pad of paper several times. He looked at me confused. I tried giving him the one, four, three sign with my fingers. Smiling he looked even more confused. He took my hand as I struggled to signal to him and put it on my chest.

 

I was happy. I knew what I was trying to say to him. I love you.