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“Hernumbersarerisingand falling,” a female voice says. “It seems as though every day or every other day her numbers crash. For some reason, they look like they’re going back up. A huge turn around since we almost lost her last night.”
I hear someone sniffle. I hear things ruffling around. I hear the sound of footsteps.
“What can I do?”
Oh my God. I know that voice. That’s Nick’s voice!
I try to scream his name, but my throat feels clogged. It feels like it’s been closed off by a giant pipe. I can’t seem to make any noises. I can’t seem to breathe.
But I feel cold.
“All you can do is wait and hope for the best,” the female voice says to Nick.
“But look at her,” Nick’s voice says. “She just looks so peaceful right now. Her numbers dropped, but they’re going back up again. This has to mean something. You’re a doctor. Can’t you come up with anything?”
“I’m a nurse. But I can see if there’s some type of pattern,” the nurse says. “We’re not doing anything out of the ordinary. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
I’m sitting in a room with him? He’s looking at me? There’s a nurse?
“Sometimes people come out of comas,” Nick says. His voice is broken with sharp breaths. “She’ll come out of this.”
I’m stunned. Did he just say I’m in a coma? Are they even talking about me? Am I dead and someone else is in a coma?
I try to open my eyes and look around, but I can’t get my lids to budge. Everything is dark. My throat hurts. Everything hurts.
What the fuck is happening?
There’s the sound of a door closing, followed by more footsteps.
I hear papers being shuffled and someone humming as they do whatever it is they’re doing.
Who would be humming?
“I’m Doctor Thomas,” a deeper male voice says.
“I remember,” Nick replies. “Can you tell me what’s going on? How to get her out of this?”
“I can’t promise anything,” the doctor says. “But I can take a look.” More papers are shuffled and Nick remains quiet. “It seems that her numbers were tanked when she first arrived,” the doctor continues. “Then they started to go up a little bit and we thought she’d come out of this. But shortly after that, there was a flutter of bad numbers. For a day or two, her numbers went back up and she was doing well, but not well enough to completely emerge from the coma. Then, last night… well, you know we almost lost her. Though her numbers did budge from rock bottom this morning.”
My brain begins to flutter with everything he’s telling Nick. I have no idea how to decipher what he’s saying. I don’t know what any of this means.
Am I really in a coma?
“So maybe there’s a pattern with what was happening in this room when her numbers were fluctuating,” Nick says. “The first day we brought her in after the accident, her numbers were obviously bad.”
“Right,” Doctor Thomas replies.
“Then, your kids came in,” the nurse says. “When her numbers started to go up.”
A pattern. A pattern of my numbers that are dependent on what was happening around me. They went up when I met the girls and figured things out. Then they were up and down when I was trying to get a grip on being a stripper and fitting in.
“But what happened last night when they tanked?” Doctor Thomas asks.
“Nothing that I can think of,” Nick says. “The kids stayed with her mom while I sat by her bedside. It was quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary that would cause her numbers to plummet.”
Rape. I was raped when my numbers tanked.
“But then they went back up,” Doctor Thomas says.
