by Anton Wills-Eve

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                          IN A COMA

I lost consciousness with a vague, very vague memory of driving; no more than that. A girl sitting next to me laughing, lurched towards me as a lorry smashed into us. I lost control of everything, brakes, steering wheel even my ability to think.

That really is when my coma must have started. Nothing I have tried to recall comes back into my head. I remember a dreadful pain in my back, otherwise just blank frames of nothing fleeting across my brain. I felt scared without even knowing what frightened me.

Many days later I learned about what happened, details that sort of thing. However, while suffering, afraid in my nightmare awareness because anything that remotely made sense remained well beyond my cerebral powers. My first intimation of recovery came with being certain I could pick out a light. A doctor or nurse’s torch, perhaps, though very faint at first.

Flickering, quite certainly a light, followed by returning sight allowing me to pick up shadows of human forms. Nurses in their uniforms became clear at last. However, when trying to shout or speak I realised I was incapable of making a sound. I tried three languages, every one to no avail.

“Aiuto!, Au secours! Help!” Nobody moved or looked at me. I spent three days like this, apparently, in unconscious hell before I found gradual, returning hearing accompanied my sight. After that faces around me smiled as they realised I understood what they were saying to me. That I could communicate again started my mind thinking normally, while being able to move my limbs came next, before eventual full recovery.

Where does a human mind go when in a coma? I have no idea. What I do know, though, is that I never want to go back there again as long as I live.

Anton Wills-Eve