THIS Is Me...
exhale all that Kayla stuff.  I feel terrible for her, but she makes me feel terrible, which really isn't fair.  I'm stuck in this hospital bed with tubes and IV's and stuff all over me so I can't move or get away.  I'm trapped here, but I'm trapped awake this time.
  Maybe if I fall asleep, I'll fall back into that long dream I had.  Maybe I'll float away and dream about Marcus and my parents again.  Maybe I'll float away and dream about things I actually understand. 
  Maybe I'll just float away, completely.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 11
     
    MAY 13
     
     
     
     
      Waking, I feel like I'm not alone.  I'm never alone, but feeling not alone is way creepier than knowing you're not alone. 
  Shifting slightly on my bed, I can't believe how stiff my body feels.  It's like every muscle I have is all tight and like scrunched up, or something.  Ugh.

  “Here, let me help you sit up a little.”
  Opening my eyes, I see Dr. MacDonald again.  Huh.  I wonder if this guy sleeps.
  “How are you feeling, Suzanne?”
  “Fine.  Stiff, actually.  My whole body is tight and kind of warm.”
  “Well, you've been asleep for a while, so your body needs to adjust to movement again, but it'll come.  You have to start Physio-Therapy as soon as you can to stop any further muscle atrophy, but otherwise, it'll just take a little time and all the muscle tightness should start to fade.  Generally speaking, muscle atrophy begins within weeks of immobility, but you shouldn't have any long-term issues with muscle degeneration or muscle weakness.”
  “Oh, good.  Um, how long was I asleep?  No one has actually told me what happened to me.”
  “A little over 12 weeks.”
  “Oh.  Wow, that’s so long.  Am I okay?  I mean, am I okay?”  Duh.  I sound so stupid.
  “Yes, you're okay, and you're going to be better now.  You were in another coma for these last 12 weeks but you seem to be relatively well now.”  A coma?  Another coma?  What the hell does that mean?
  “I don't remember another coma Dr. MacDonald.  Was I little or something before?”
  “No.  You were in a medically-induced coma last year for a few weeks after you had a brain aneurism rupture.  Do you remember anything about that time?”
  “No, I'm sorry.”  Holy shit!  2 comas?  What the hell is wrong with me?
  “It's alright.  No need to be sorry.  You were quite sick last year, but you made a remarkable recovery.  Do you remember anything about being sick last year?”
  “No.  I'm... I don't remember being sick at all.  Where's Marcus?”
  I'm starting to feel a little uncomfortable with this doctor.  He keeps looking at me so intensely, but he's also so calm and relaxed that I'm feeling like I'm doing something wrong but he doesn't want to tell me what it is.  Why doesn't he just tell me what he wants?
  “Marcus had to go away for a few days.  He's very sorry to not be here with you, but he couldn't put off the trip, so he sends his regards.  I'm sure he'll be here as soon as he can though.”
  Why doesn't that surprise me?  I can't help but giggle a little.  I mean, come on!  Your wife wakes up after 12 weeks in a friggin’ coma and you can't get out of a business trip?  Who does that?  Speaking of colossal disappointments, where the hell are my parents anyway?
  “Are you okay, Suzanne?  You seem a little nervous or something.  Marcus really does wish he could be here, but he had to straighten a few things out first.”
  “I'm sure he did.  Where are my parents?  Have they been here?”
  “Do you want them here?”  What?  What a strange question.  Of course I ... DON’T!  Ha!  Oops.  Giggle. 
  “Suzanne, would you like your parents here?  It’s okay to answer truthfully.  You can be honest with me.  I promise you can confide in me and I won't tell anyone anything you tell me.”
  “Of course I do.  They're my parents, Dr.

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