Nicole...is that you?

Hard to recall such moments when you are not even sure if the camera was rolling; figuratively, but honestly I'm not sure what really happened that day. After a series of breakdowns, the ones who loved me most pleaded on my behalf to the medical staff to have the morphine drip removed from my system. They could not bear to witness my hallucinations as I rambled thoughts incoherently. The following is my true account of what occurred; the event cycled bout three or four times before I regained control over my own mind.

"Nicole...is that you?"

My eyes slowly opened to a foggy world, nothing too clearly seen. The smell of the over-sterilized plastics and metals that made up my new home held a sense of hopelessness. My eyes slowly opened to witness my girlfriend, sitting at my bedside with the softest of eyes. As my lips parted to speak, her ears perked up as to prepare to hear a mouse's whisper. I spoke, "Nicole...is that you?"

I spoke in disbelief and uncertainty. With my recent trauma and confusion, how certain could I be that she was really here, by my bedside?

"Yes, Christian, it's me. I'm here," she said, slightly confused by the question; having been together for nearly four years, how could I not know if it was her.

Dazed and confused, I rallied the little strength I had within me to sit up, feeling resistance from the numerous wires that recorded my vitals. I motioned towards the bathroom, a signal that Nicole understood without needing any verbal confirmation. I rose off the medical mattress with my body at an angle, as if my world's axis had been tipped an additional forty-five degrees. I slowly made my way to the bathroom with only one thought in my mind: if this were reality, I could find comfort in a reflection from the bathroom mirror...as well as the red and black checkered pattern that lined the bathroom walls; the tiles, I needed to see them. I do not know what it was about those tiles that gave me a sense of reality, but it was the only definitive way to really know if I was awake or asleep.

I arrived in the bathroom and glanced in the mirror; my jaw was swollen to an extent I had thought it would never heal. The drainage tube that escaped from the stitches in my neck nauseated me, as the clear bulb that conveniently was held in my shirt pocket, was filled with clear fluid and blood. Alas, my eyes turned to the most awesome sight of the red and black checkered tiles. I let out a slight, painful sigh of relief, and could not help but let a couple tears escape; it dawned on me that my loving girlfriend was on the other side of the door, waiting for me--here to care for me in any way that she could. I exited the bathroom and, with Nicole's assistance, made my way back onto my linen tomb where I laid staring into her eyes. The morphine then held me close and gently kissed my forehead..my eyelids became increasingly heavy..and I fell asleep...

My eyes slowly opened to a foggy world, nothing too clearly seen. The smell of the over-sterilized plastics and metals that made up my new home held a sense of hopelessness. My eyes slowly opened to witness my girlfriend, sitting at my bedside with the softest of eyes. As my lips parted to speak, her ears perked up as to prepare to hear a mouse's whisper. I spoke, "Nicole...is that you?"...


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