"Someone warm the incubator!"
Men and women rushed around me, looking frantic. I can understand that small fact, that they were panicked, but why?
I was so small when this happened, I could only process small pieces of information. I knew that a man was holding me, but who? I didn't know that, and I didn't know why.
I used my small frail hands to grasp his sleeve, it felt so soft and plush, and it entertained me for the time being.
When this happened I was still only a baby, less than a day old, but I was always able to tell what was happening. Not all of it of coarse, but most anyway. For instance; I knew that the people around me were panicked, and trying to accomplish something. I didn't know they were focused on me, or that they were trying to save me. I didn't know I was dying, or that my heart had an irregular heartbeat.
The man that was currently carrying me, was running extremely fast, entering a room with lilac walls. It smelled of mold in there, it was only the medical supplies at the time, but I registered that it smelled of mold. I crinkled my nose slightly, trying to get used to this scent, before dismissing it from my mind.
The man placed me down in a wide metal pan, and I admired the shiny surface, my eyes widening at the object.
When my body finally reacted to the metal pan, I panicked, the cold surface burning my skin. I clenched my fists and reopened them repeatedly, trying to take my focus off the cold surface. I wailed uncontrollably.
You also might be wondering how I can remember what happened in such detail. I have always had that gift, the ability of a good memory, and sensory details. I always had a sneaking suspicion I would use this gift of memory well one day, and while I'm not using it to the full potential, I'm using it to tell this story arnt I?
The man that had been carrying me was still looking frantic, and after looking down at me with one last glance, he turned and I never saw him again. Now why would someone work so hard to get me somewhere, only to leave me to die? Well as I said earlier, I had no idea who any of these people are or why they were so focused. My brain was still so underdeveloped, that it couldn't process that I was in fact dying, slowly, with a birth defect, and at such a young age. It's a really odd thing to happen I guess, a child, at the age of a day, becoming so unwell that they start to slip away. Usually it's the older population that suffers with what I went through. But they call that Alzheimer's. I just call it being able to see what others cannot. The funny thing is, the doctors never knew what to call it either, all they said was 'indescribable.'
After sitting in the strange metal pan for what felt like a lifetime, a women came to care for me, and after wrapping me in a pink, plush blanket to heat me, she calmly moved me to another surface, it looked like a crib, but it was far from that. It was an incubator, used in rare cases, to save a baby that is dying.
Now I have to question everything that was happening outside of that room at this time. Where was my mother? How was she reacting to this? And what about my father? He had to be worrying, most likely comforting my mother, wiping her tears away and telling her it would be okay, everything will be okay.