My arm was stiff, I remember how it protested against me as I tried to shield my eyes against the brightness, the cruelly brilliant lights burned through my eyelids as you could imagine a flame burning through a piece of paper on a hot and dry day.
I also remember the gasp of fright, surprise or delight (I still don’t know which) that came from a short, petite blonde woman who stood at the bottom of my bed, holding a perfectly manicured hand over her mouth. Her features were soft, and even though she was very pretty, she was also very plain; there was nothing that stood out about her, and I am sure that if I had not spent the next few months of my life with her I would have never have remembered her normal, simple face.
“Oh my god!” She cried “You’re awake! Can you tell me how you are feeling?”
“Um..” My voice was thick and groggy “I’m fine, my head’s a bit sore though, who are you? And where am I?”
“Headaches would be normal, as you did suffer a head injury..” She began to write in her notepad “… I am Shelby, your nurse, and you are in hospital.” She smiled sweetly at me, like you would to a stranger that you make eye contact with on the street.
There was a tube inside my arm, thin ones with brownish fluids passing through them pierced into my arm with one large metal tooth. It was like a snake, but instead of poisoning me it was helping me. I reached to pull it out, but the nurse stopped me. “You might want to wait for the doctor before you do that, just incase.” She told me. Her voice was just as sweet as her smile, too sweet, she had a Londoner’s accent.
“Now can you tell me your name?” She returned to her notepad, scribbling rapidly with an inky blue pen.
“Um..” My mind was completely blank, I couldn’t remember if my name began with an L or a K, or maybe an M? Anyway, I could feel the heaviness of doubt on my shoulders then, like I still feel sometimes nowadays, and it’s not a pleasant thing, it never was. The woman looked up from the pad, this time she spoke more clearly. “What is your name?”