Coming Home

I woke up. Machines beeping around me. Tubes coming out of my body. A man was there, watching me. He looked incredibly sad and aged, although he couldn't have been over 40.  He was dressed in a suit that had seen a few years and held an old cap in his hand.  I closed my eyes again.  It hurts to see.  My breathing felt weird, almost forced.  Something was wrong with my mouth.  I heard a sniff and braced my eyes for the blinding light.  Instead of light I saw a beard and felt a light pressure on my forehead. I tried to say something but instead I started choking on something in my throat.  The man jerked away from me and started yelling for help.  I clawed at the thing coming out of my mouth.  I saw people running in and someone poked me in the arm with something. 

I don’t remember anything else, but I woke up again later to the man’s face again.  He was anxious, and smiled in relief when I opened my eyes again.  At least I could breathe now.  I swallowed hard and tried to talk.  I managed to get out pitiful, “water,” to which the man eagerly obliged.   I gulped it down and watched him.  I had a sense of de-ja-vu. I knew this man.  But couldn't place him.

It’s later now.  Been almost 6 hours since I woke up.  Sam filled me in.  He is my husband of 20 years.  Can you believe that? I've been married for 20 years.  And I am 45.  45!  I spend so long dreaming of another life.  I guess I forgot all about this one.  He said I have been in a coma for almost a year.  I have much to catch up on, but for now, I am home.