A shudder passes through me as the tape is taken from my eyes and I blink rapidly as the misty ward comes into focus.
‘She is waking doctor.’
‘Thank you, Pumza.’
Hands tug at my gown. Something’s pressing down on my throat; it moves. I stare blurrily up at the ceiling. The blades of a white painted fan rotate over me, their steady beat blending with the ‘beep, beep, beep’ of the heart monitor. The air smells so sharply of antiseptic I can taste it. I glance to the side. The doctor’s hand comes in to view and rests on my throat. I feel a surge of movement. My throat closes. Shit, I’m not breathing. I try to move my hands but they lie lead heavy at my sides. My heart thuds in my ears. Why can’t I move? Why?
A face comes into view. ‘Welcome back. I’m Dr Rajeet. You’ve been in a deep sleep for six weeks. Your family will be very happy to see you back.’
Dr Rajeet pushes his hands down on each side of my ribs and then checks the tube rising from my throat. ‘Your body did not want to breathe on its own,’ he said. ‘We’ve given you a tracheotomy. We must hope that your brain will sometime tell your body to breathe again. These things take time.’
My legs jerk involuntarily and the doctor glances over at them.
‘You’re still convulsing a little; I’m afraid you’ll find you can’t move your arms and legs yet, but you should have feeling from the neck up. We’ll take you down to the General Ward later today. Try and rest now.’
Sardonic laughter trembles through me. I can hardly do anything but rest if all I can move is my head. Everything is surreal. I’m like the living dead. Have I really been brought out of my coma for this? A cloud of darkness descends and I squeeze my eyelids closed. Oh God! I don’t want to live like this.
‘I am going to give you something to calm you.’ Dr Rajeet holds a syringe, ready to attack.
‘Of course I won’t fucking feel anything if I’m paralysed.’ I feel like screaming at him, but of course talking, like walking, is not an option. The depth of helplessness swamps over me. I just want to die. ‘Please God, take me,’ I scream inside as the panic of my paralysis prickles over me like an uncontrolled bush fire. I lie burning for a few seconds, screaming inside, before a welcome womb of blackness rises up and covers me.
When I next open my eyes I’m being wheeled down a long, dirty corridor with footsteps clip-clopping loudly behind me.
Elsa’s earnest face, framed by her high advocate collar, peers down at me from the side of my trolley. She must’ve come straight from court for my grand exit from ICU. ‘We’re taking you down to the General Ward, Liss.’ She tries to smile but can hardly manage it.
Nat’s voice is locked in a high falsetto but I can hear the tears behind it. ‘We’re both here with you, Liss. Don’t worry it’s going to be okay …’ She scurries up on the other side of me and gives me a false smile.
Despite their pained expressions they both look so normal, so clean and smelling of bloody Chanel! I, on the other hand, am in an ugly hospital gown and undoubtedly look and smell like shit. Oh the joys!
‘You’ll be okay. It’ll just take time, that’s all,’ says Elsa.
‘Yes, you’ll be okay.’
I snap my head to the side. Karlos has joined us. Can it get any worse? He’s the last one I want here. I don’t want him to see me like this: a half-human, damaged thing. I’m no longer capable of being his girlfriend. I close my eyes to shut him out. This can’t be real; it can’t be happening. It’s just got to be a nightmare. One fucking, gigantic living nightmare!
I open my eyes again as they wheel me into the General Ward. It’s filled with groaning, writhing bodies and third-world chaos. We wheel towards a bed tucked away in a far corner, past a young woman whose bloodied bandages cover her arms and head. She’s groaning to herself and obviously in great pain. I look away. I’m obviously one of the privileged few because I still need a drip.
‘We can’t leave her here,’ whispers Nat. ‘We can’t. It’s too awful.’
‘Ja, I agree,’ says Karlos, ‘but the doctor said she must stay in case she needs to go back to ICU.’
‘So much for Mandela’s new South Africa! This wasn’t what I envisaged. Why didn’t they take her to a private hospital, for goodness’ sake?’ Nat’s voice is tight with anger.
‘They didn’t know if she had any medical aid. That’s why they brought her here. You phoned the ambulance, Nat, not me.’
‘They didn’t ask me about medical aid or money. I would’ve told them it wasn’t a problem.’ Nat’s eyes fill with tears. ‘They just said they had to bring her here and I was in too much shock to argue,’ she snaps. ‘If you’d been there when the fitting started, Liss might never have got this bad.’ She glares at him and slaps the tears off her cheeks.
My face grows hot. I wish I could just tell them all to ‘Shut the fuck up’. How dare they talk about me like I’m not even here? Why don’t they all just go? I just want to be alone.
‘I phoned Hillcrest Hospital this morning. They may have space,’ says Elsa. ‘Dr Rajeet said he’ll get her records over to them. They’re a specialist hospital who’ll give her the best.’
Karlos’ voice rises. ‘When is she going?’
‘I don’t know,’ snaps Elsa, glaring at Karlos, ‘As soon as the doctor says she can. Probably tomorrow it she’s still stable when he checks her later. We’re not letting her stay here one second longer than she has to.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Nat’s face crumples with relief. ‘Let’s hope it’s tomorrow.’
Elsa narrows her eyes at Karlos. She lowers her voice and speaks in a voice filled with venom. ‘I want to make something very clear …’ She pauses and moves closer to Karlos. ‘I don’t know how the fuck Liss has ended up like this, but you tell those other rubbish from the rehab to keep the hell away. Dr Rajeet said that some woman with pink hair and two men wanted to see Lissa when she was in ICU. Said they knew her from Shaloma. Luckily I’d told him no visitors except us. The last thing she needs is that type coming here.’
Karlos’ eyebrows lift in surprise. What the hell were they doing here? Come to gloat no doubt? I look at Elsa with relief. Thank God she didn’t let them see me.
My sisters and Karlos stand at my bedside looking down at me. I screw my eyes shut to escape their pity. ‘Please God, save me from this living hell,’ I plead silently, ‘or at least give me a drink.’ If ever there was a need for a case of Johnny Walker, this is it.
Karlos’ lips touch my forehead in a hard kiss. ‘I’ll see you later before I go to the meeting.’ I open my eyes, but already his broad frame is marching out of the ward.
Nat pulls a face and Elsa bites her lip as they look down at me.
‘Mom and Yvonne send their love,’ whispers Nat, bending over me. ‘Mom’s too distraught to come. We’ll bring her to Hillcrest as soon as you’re there.’
An old African woman next to me suddenly starts singing loudly to herself.
‘Looks like she’s having fun,’ whispers Nat, giving me a wry smile. ‘Hope she won’t keep you awake.’
Despite everything my mind smiles, convinced that it has to be some kind of a black comedy. This ward of overflowing broken bodies and me. It can’t be real. It can’t be …
‘We’ll see you tomorrow, Lissakins. Don’t worry. We’ll make sure we get you to Hillcrest ASAP. I promise,’ whispers Elsa, kissing the top of my head.
Her words make me yearn to be young again. I squeeze my eyes tight. I just need someone to help me, to take care of me, and the only one who can do that now is God. My mind drifts back to the first time I met Him at that revival meeting. He was real then. Please let him be so still.