Have you ever woken up ore been in a place or situation that you have never experienced before? Where and how did it make you feel?
As I moved my hand to scratch away something odd feeling at my nose, I found I couldn’t move either hand. I felt terrified, was I paralyzed? Why couldn’t I move my own hands? My nose was congested and it felt like there was an object inside it. It felt awful and I wanted to remove it immediately, but couldn’t. It was then I realized my hands were restrained at my sides. I tried to open my eyes, but it felt like I was trying to pry open old paint cans with a toothpick. The effort was futile. My fear was increasing by the second. I began to panic wholeheartly. Why were my eyes not opening when I willed them to do so and my hands not moving with my gallant struggle?
The room was silent except for the sound of a heartbeat; was it my own? My heart began racing to think that I was listening to the sound of my heartbeat. I smelled alcohol and antiseptic, this was a sterile environment. How did I get here? I wanted the comfort of my own bed. The company of my family, but I was here alone and had no one to ask questions about how I had gotten here. My throat ached and my mouth was parched. It felt like I hadn’t had a drink in days. I continued to struggle to open my eyes and little by the lid of the paint can opened a crack and then more and more until I could see around me. Stark light shone in my eyes almost blinding me. I noticed that my hands were indeed tethered to the rails of a bed with straps of cotton binding and were covered with large white mitts that resembled boxing gloves.
I made an effort to lift my head from the pillow to look around the room. It felt as though my head was too heavy to move from the pillow. I moved my body the best I could and found that my legs moved freely. My relief was palpable. I scanned the room to find that two of the walls were covered in glass and the one at my feet had a door in the middle of it. Could I escape through it? If so how could I get out of these bindings? I wanted to leave this room, but as I struggled; first to remove the thing that was stuffing up my nose and scratching my throat, to free my hands, and then sit up and leave this sterile environment my struggle was in vain. I had heard of the fight or flight response in fearful situations and I felt fearful. I wanted to fight against the restraints and take flight from this room. I began to sweat and I could hear my heart beat faster and faster. Questions began to race through my mind. What happened to me? Why was I here in what appeared to be a hospital room? How long had I been here? And did any of my family know I was here?
I needed answers to these questions. I needed to know why I had a heart monitor and a tube in my nose, was I in grave danger of dying? Had I been given up to die? My mind raced and I felt overwhelmed with anxiety. I needed answers and freedom now! I couldn’t wait any longer. I would explode if I didn’t get free soon. I tried talking calmly to myself hoping it could make the situation bearable I chanted over and over in my mind that some one would come in and free me and explain what had happened. I concentrated on calmness and control, trying not to fight the restraint, but to settle into the situation accepting the present and waiting. “Someone will come…Someone will come…Someone will…” I fell asleep.
I awoke startled to the sound of the door opening and the chatter of young men. As I looked up, my son squealed, “Mom, you’re awake! We weren’t sure if you would ever wake up.”
“Boy am I thrilled to see you two wonderful faces! How long have I been here? And why am I here?”, Surprised at the sound of my own voice.
My oldest son explained, “You took a butt-load of meds and almost died, we thought you weren’t gonna make it.”
My shock was overwhelming! I lost five days of my life. How did that happen” I felt ashamed about my actions. I had no real explanation for my 13 and 16 year old sons as I remembered that I had been terribly depressed and had indeed taken a lethal amount of pills.
“Guys, I don’t know how to explain myself.”
“No need to. It’s over now.” my youngest responded.
They both quickly picked up latex gloves and began blowing them up and tying them at the bottom. They began volleying them across the bed over my body and then I realized in earnest no exlanation was necessary. They accepted the situation and were happy I was alive.
