There was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to
suggest that strange and mysterious things would
soon be happening.
J. K. Rowling
Here I am, taking a few hours off to concentrate on writing this book about our family history. I am trying to interview my mom, but she’s not answering my questions.
Okay, why is she standing over there? I don’t remember her getting up from the chair. She knows how busy I am. I told her I was on a tight schedule.
She’s been begging me for a while to write this book. I tried convincing her to get my sister to do it or maybe to do it herself. But she said I was more creative. I agreed—another thing on my plate, and now she’s not cooperating. What is up with that?
She keeps looking at me, but she’s not talking to me. Who is she talking to? We have yet to start our interview.
I remember sitting in a chair, and now I’m lying in a bed.
When and how did this happen? I don’t understand what’s going on and why my mom is crying. She looks so sad. We were at my parents’ house, but where are we now? This does not look like their home. I’m not entirely sure, but perhaps it is.
Wait a minute; there’s someone else here with us. He doesn’t look familiar. When did he get here? I didn’t hear the doorbell ring. I am so confused. I wish someone would talk to me.
Who is this man? He looks like a doctor with his white coat on. Why would my mom be talking to a doctor in her home? Is she sick? Wow, so doctors are making house calls now. Why isn’t anyone talking to me? I’m right here.
This is so frustrating, and I’m getting angry.
Again, where are we?
My dad looks like he just got here, and my mom leads him out of the room. Are they leaving? Where are they going? Oh, okay, they’re back. Now, Dad is sad. He has tears in his eyes. What is going on? Maybe my mom is sick. Wow, I wish someone would tell me what’s going on. I don’t understand why they’re ignoring me.
I’m listening to this man wearing the white coat tell my parents he’s not sure what’s happening either. He says, “She has a head injury, which seems to have caused her to be in a coma. Comas can help prevent brain swelling, so it’s probably good. We are looking into the cause.”
Wait, who are they talking about? Phew, I’m glad my parents aren’t the ones sick. But he’s sharing with them the prognosis of someone they care about. Maybe it’s my sister?
He continues explaining, “But it looks like the convulsions were due to an epileptic seizure. We’ll have to do more tests to figure out what’s going on within her body. Her blood tests show that her white blood cells are abnormally high. This usually means there’s an infection or inflammation somewhere within her body. And her blood pressure is abnormally high. We will let you know of any other findings.”
My mom says, “She seemed fine when she arrived, except she was a little edgy. But lately, that’s been normal for her. She always says she’s okay.
“Then suddenly, right before my eyes, she started convulsing uncontrollably, falling out of the chair and hitting the floor headfirst. I immediately called 911. I was so scared. I don’t know if it helped, but I put a spoon in her mouth so she wouldn’t swallow her tongue.”
The doctor says, “I understand the need to do whatever you thought you could. But it’s impossible to swallow a tongue.”
Then he asks, “Has she been under much stress lately?”
In unison, they both say, “She’s always stressed out. She can’t be still for too long. There’s always something she needs to tend to.”
The doctor asks what her line of work is. My dad tells him she travels a lot and makes jewelry.
“Her mother and I told her she needed to slow down. She has been working nonstop. She’s a globetrotter, buying designer clothes and now opening a boutique. She loves what she does, but it keeps her up at night. Her clients insist on personal attention regarding purchases; her jewelry is unique.
“For about fifteen years, she’s been under this pressure. She’s very good at what she does. She started making jewelry while in college. It helped pay her school expenses. Her goal is to be financially secure. She has worked hard, and now, at thirty-five years old, she’s working towards becoming a millionaire.”
Mom says, “She’s on a mission.”
Dad says, “I want to ask, is it worth it? Look at where we are today.”
The doctor patiently listens while my parents tell him my life history.
He then asks if I have been exposed to toxins like carbon monoxide or lead lately. They aren’t sure.
Well, I know now who they’re talking about, me.
The doctor leaves, saying he will be back. My parents sit down, and my mom rubs my hand while telling me that I am in the hospital. She shares how I suddenly fell out of my chair, convulsing with a seizure. My dad says that the doctors are working to figure all this out.
My parents kiss my forehead, telling me how much they love me and want me to fight to get better. Then Mom says, “I hope you can hear us.”
They don’t know if a person in a coma can hear. But I can hear; I’ve listened to every word they’ve said.
In my mind, I’m talking to them, but my mouth isn’t moving. People are talking around me about me, but I can do nothing about it.
I wonder why I can see them while my eyes are closed.
This is all so strange.