23
I opened my eyes and flinched, expecting pain. There was none. But I felt confined as if I was in a tight shroud. When I got my bearings I realised I was in hospital, sun streaming through the windows. My hearing hadn’t kicked in and I stared, in a soundless state. The ward was on full go, maybe fifteen other beds, with nurses, visitors and patients mouthing words I couldn’t hear. I began to sit up and, like a switch being turned, I could hear.
Too much.
Coming in stereo, like a wave of terror. I tried to cover my ears.
A nurse appeared, said,
“You’re back.”
She fluffed my pillows because nurses have a moral obligation to do this twenty times daily, said,
“Now, you don’t worry, I’ll get the doctor.”
Worry about what for Chrissakes? She returned with a babe from Baywatch. No kidd
