by Laura Burton
Amelia’s eyes flashed open as she remembered that voice. The blonde nurse smiled warmly at her; she was the woman she had seen at the Roman baths.
“I know you,” Amelia said weakly. “I know your voice.” The nurse raised a hand to her chest and smiled at her, touched.
“Yes, lovely, I’ve been with you from the moment you came to this hospital,” she said kindly. Suddenly, their exchange was broken by a commotion outside the room. Amelia saw through the large glass window in her room that a group of doctors had flooded the hall and were approaching a woman holding a tiny baby in her arms.
“Goodness! Did she bring the baby to the ICU? What is she thinking? So many germs…,” the nurse exclaimed as she stood up to rush over and see. Amelia craned her neck to look past the heads of the doctors and nurses and could just make out purple hair. Again, the image sparked a memory of the heavily pregnant woman in Bath. Amelia looked down in her lap and stared at the cannula attached to her arm. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together as she realised the weight of Dr Brown’s words. She was in a coma. The people she met while in the coma, were the people in the hospital. The classical music, the doctors, nurses and staff, had all played a role, like characters in her mind. But who were the guardians? And where was Toby? If these people were real, then surely Toby was too? Maybe he was a doctor who fell in love with her? Amelia frowned at the thought. She shook her head, which throbbed painfully at the movement. Maybe Toby was in the ICU too?
Amelia decided that there was only one way to find out. She slowly sat up and held the bed with her left hand to steady her balance. The room was spinning, and she felt like her neck was balancing a bowling ball instead of supporting a head. She grabbed the metal IV stand and shimmied her legs out of bed. Even before she touched her bare feet on the hard floor, she knew she was weak.
“Come on, Amelia, you’ve got this,” she whispered to herself as she slowly lowered her feet to the ground. The white floor was ice cold and she shivered at the touch. Then she slowly raised herself off the bed and allowed her feet to carry her weight. Her knees buckled and she fell back on the mattress again. A beeping noise echoed around the room; her fall must have made a sensor move out of place, and the group of doctors, who were standing around the baby, turned.
“Woah, now, what are you doing?” a young skinny doctor said as he pushed his thick-framed glasses with his index finger and marched over to the bed. The crowd of doctors parted, and the woman with the baby stared at Amelia with mild disgust and then a flash of recognition crossed her face.
“She’s awake? I told you, didn’t I? She looked at me. None of you believed me and now see? She’s awake!” she said in an African accent.
The room began to spin, and Amelia moaned as she pressed her hand to her head; it was so heavy and sore that she was worried it might snap off and roll across the floor. A smile crept across her mouth as she wondered how the doctors might react if that really happened.
“Please, I just need to know if there is a young man here? A patient? He has blonde wavy hair and his name is Toby,” Amelia said quickly as two doctors coaxed her back into bed.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. We can’t talk about other patients,” the skinny doctor explained. Amelia’s eyebrows shot up as she buried her feet under the covers.
“So, he could be here? You didn’t say no!”
The two doctors glanced at each other.
“Page Dr Saunders,” the skinny doctor murmured to the other. He turned back to Amelia and smiled.
“Your number one priority right now is resting. I need you to stay in bed. Dr Jones will be unhappy if she finds out you’ve had another brain bleed because you decided to jump out of bed and run around the ICU.” Amelia gave an apologetic smile and allowed the pillow to cushion her head as she let her body sink into the hospital bed. She realised there was a bumpy texture underneath her sheets and frowned.
“I think I’m lying on something,” Amelia said as she wriggled.
“Oh, I can arrange for a nurse to take that out. Now I’m just going to top up your morphine.” He rooted through a stack of drawers across the room, then turned with a syringe in his hand and smiled.
“What am I lying on?” Amelia asked as she watched the doctor administer more medication into her IV.
“Well, it’s a special blanket for patients who are bedbound to prevent bedsores,” he explained as he looked at her chart. He took a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote down some notes.
“Dr Brown would like to see you eat something if you feel able? Are you up for trying some porridge?” he asked softly. A shrill alarm interrupted them, and the doctor frowned to himself as he craned his neck to look down the corridor. A group of medical staff raced passed the doorway. The doctor turned back to Amelia.
“I’ll try,” she offered weakly and stared at the doctor’s badge and noticed his name was unpronounceable. She wondered if he was from Russia. He had white-blonde hair and dark eyes; he did look like he was of Russian descent.
“Well, we’ve removed your feeding tube, so if we can’t manage to get you eating, we’ll need to put one back in,” he said as he got to his feet.
“I’ll try the porridge,” Amelia said, determined to avoid having a tube put down her nose. The doctor left the room and Amelia lay still staring at the white lights on the stained ceiling. She traced the circle outlines of the water markings and her brain worked hard to find out what to make of everything that had happened. What happened to her car, and where was her phone? Was Toby lying in a bed across the hall? Perhaps the irony would be that she was living some alternate reality after she and Toby drowned. Her imagination played out wild ideas as the medication started to take effect. The stains on the ceiling were dancing around and Amelia’s bed rocked side to side like a boat floating along the river. With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes.
Chapter Seventeen
The Truth Hurts
“You’re doing great,” said the blonde nurse, who was named Lily, as she watched Amelia finish drinking her cup of orange juice. She was sitting up in her bed now and her head was clearer and less heavy. Having just finished an entire plate of cottage pie and bowl of sticky toffee pudding, a feeling of pride enveloped her. Two arduous weeks had passed, most of the time spent in a state of confusion and disorientation. She fought to stay off the feeding tube and did everything the doctors told her to. Her goal was to be well enough to leave the hospital as soon as possible—so she could find Toby. She asked every nurse, doctor and cleaner who entered her room about him. No one was able to give her any answers. Apparently, there wasn’t a patient in the ICU called Toby, and the collective answer from everyone she asked, was that Toby wasn’t real. Amelia was not convinced, though. She had several visits with Dr Saunders, who spoke in a dry, patronising tone. Amelia was told that Toby was the personification of her inner self. She had created him to help her process the grief of losing her grandma and bring her back to reality. Toby’s role was to help Amelia let go of the past and move on with her future—or so Dr Saunders said. Amelia learnt very quickly to go along with the theory because she overheard a conversation she had with Dr Brown when Amelia was pretending to be asleep. Dr Saunders was concerned that if Amelia held onto the idea that Toby was real that she would have to refer Amelia to be sectioned for more aggressive therapies. It was not said in that way, of course, but Amelia’s mind ran straight to the worst-case scenario hearing Dr Saunders’ concern. So, she kept her mouth shut about her coma dreams and focussed instead on getting stronger.
A kind nurse gave Amelia her phone, which was found along with a few possessions from the car. The little Corsa had become damaged beyond repair, thanks to the collision with an oak tree and was being detained in police custody. The notion made Amelia laugh at the thought of her car sitting in prison with a hundred and fifty-thousand-pound painting in the boot. She wondered what ever happened to that peacock painting.
Amelia grew stronger and better able to carry ou
t some administrative work. She dialled the number to her boss, Jerry, and what followed was a conversation that Amelia had never imagined would happen.
“Hi Jerry, it’s Amelia Smart,” she said, then heard a coughing fit on the other end of the phone.
“Amelia! Well, this is a surprise,” Jerry said in a gruff voice. “I thought you left without handing in your notice.”
Amelia imagined him sitting by his office window, watching the seagulls steal chips from the old man who sat on the beach each day, trying to enjoy his lunch.
“I was in a car accident about six weeks ago. I’ve been in a coma, so sorry I didn’t call,” Amelia said with a dark smile, though her humour was lost on Jerry.
“Yes, yes, it’s been quite inconvenient not having you here. I had to hire a temp and he’s really inept, you see. It took him half a day to work out how to connect his laptop to the printer.”
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry to cause such an inconvenience,” Amelia replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
“Hmm, well how long do you think you’ll need before you can come back? Ordinarily, I would fire you on the spot of course, but it turns out we can’t find anyone else to pick up the slack.”
“Oh, well I—” Amelia began but Jerry continued to speak.
“It’s these millennials, you see. Entitled, I tell you. They want to work their own hours, do nothing all day, be their own boss and have an outrageous wage!” he ranted. Amelia listened to him talking at length about several young people he had interviewed and all of them made demands and shared their “unrealistic expectations” on what the job would entail, yet not one word about her being in a coma for six weeks.
“Well, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I have a good story for the paper.”
That got Jerry to stop moaning. “Oh yeah, what do you have for me?”
Amelia sat up straight and bit her lip. “Local Reporter Finds True Love While in A Coma,” Amelia said boldly. There was silence on the other end of the phone—except for loud breathing.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “Is this a true story, or just one of your made-up ideas?”
“It’s about me, Jerry,” Amelia said with her face in her palm.
“While you were in a coma? Is this a doctor/patient sort of scandal we’re talking about here?”
“No, no. I met him while in the coma.”
“Right… so you fell in love… with a man in your dreams?” Jerry’s tone was patronising.
“No, well yes… but no, it’s not like that—” Amelia was cut off by Jerry’s booming laugh.
“How about, ‘Local Reporter Wakes Up from Coma.’ Now that’ll be grand!” he exclaimed.
Frustrated that no one wanted to know and worse, didn’t believe her about Toby, Amelia said on a long sigh, “All right, shall we get Luke to do the interview? Maybe Nate would take a picture of me in Cheltenham hospital.”
“Cheltenham? That’s not exactly local, is it, Amelia? Besides, I can’t be handing out expenses so Nate can go gallivanting off on a happy road trip.”
“It’s not that far, and it’s not like he’s going on holiday. He’d be coming to the hospital.”
“No, no, Amelia. Just give us a call when you’re back home and we’ll do the interview here in the office. It’ll be a great shot to have you with the team in the pictures,” Jerry said decidedly. “Now, when do you think you can make it back?”
“I don’t know.” She’d made a lot of progress, but she was still weak. “Maybe another couple of weeks?”
“Fine then. But try and hurry up, will you? I can’t wait to get rid of this temp.” Before Amelia could reply she heard the line go dead.
“It’s just me, lovely. I’ve got some news for you!” The blonde nurse entered the room with a bundle of papers in her arms. Amelia looked up at her with a smile.
“Oh?” Perhaps they finally found out where Toby was.
“Dr Jones has discharged you from her service. She’s really pleased with your recovery and Dr Brown has signed you off to be transferred,” the nurse said brightly.
“Transferred? Where?” Was she moving hospitals? Did they think she was well enough to go home? She wondered whether she should call Jerry back and tell him she’d be back in a few days.
“Up to the ward. You’ll be leaving the ICU today! All the staff who have been working with you are coming down to see you off,” she said happily. Amelia offered a weak smile in response, feeling a little deflated. Her time at the hospital was not yet over. She inwardly sighed.
Chapter Eighteen
Make It Count
Days rolled into weeks, weeks turned into months, and Amelia was still at the hospital. She was on a first-name basis with the cleaning crew and dinner staff, which earned her some little perks. Archie, the cook, sneaked her an extra sticky toffee pudding and Maggie, the cleaner who came in on Fridays, gave her an extra soft roll of toilet paper. Sandra, the old lady who popped round with the newspapers and confectionary trolley was kind enough to slip Amelia a TV card to use on her monitor.
Amelia attended her physio appointments with gumption and tried to maintain a positive outlook. The truth was, however, that underneath her sunny disposition, she was screaming inside. She scoured the internet for any trace of Toby, a young surfer from California. But no one came up. She started to read through news headlines for anyone with the name Toby. Forty-seven-year-old Toby Garland, from Alberta, was mauled by a bear. Pop singer Toby Lloyd died from an overdose. Sixteen-year-old Toby Lawrence was arrested after being caught stealing his neighbour’s ride-on lawn mower. Amelia grew more and more frustrated as she searched and came up with nothing. She started to look at crowdfunding websites and read through all the ongoing campaigns in California. No one named Toby came up in the search, and she scrolled through thousands of listings looking for his name or his picture. Nothing. As time passed by and with no clues to go on, Amelia sank into a depression. Every time she went to sleep, she prayed to see Toby again in her dreams, wishing they had never woken her up. If only she and Toby had run away from the guardians and created their own little world in her dreams. The real world was mundane and plain compared to her life in the coma. The colours were so much more vibrant in her dreams. It did not help her mental well-being to be stuck in the hospital for so long. But having suffered two “episodes” with her heart, she was forced to stay, as the doctors were concerned about possible complications. Apparently her heartbeat and blood pressure levels were erratic at times while in the induced coma as well. So, she remained stuck in-between living a normal life and being confined to isolation, all the while with a fading hope that she’d ever see Toby again. When the lights went out in the evening, and the nursing staff had their coffee break, Amelia allowed small sobs to escape as she buried her face into her pillow and cried herself to sleep. She quietly longed for her suffering to end.
After a few days of wondering how she could possibly go on another day in bed, Dr Brown turned up at her bedside unannounced. “Well, Amelia, it’s been quite a journey hasn’t it?” he said evenly, with his hands neatly in his lap.
“I am most pleased to inform you that you are being discharged tomorrow. Everything looks good and you’ve been stable for the past few weeks. We feel it’s okay for you to go home.” Amelia’s mouth fell open and her eyes welled up as she stared at him in shock. She had lost hope of ever leaving and was resigned to listening to Bertha’s throaty snore in bed number three for the rest of her existence.
“Your care will be transferred to the hospital in Weston-Super-Mare where you will keep up with your physio. You must see your GP if you suffer any chest pain or dizziness.” Amelia nodded in silence, still reeling from shock. “Is there anyone I can call to pick you up?” he asked hesitantly. Amelia bit her lip. Suzie had never come back to visit, and without her grandma there was no one else.
“I’ll just call a taxi, thanks,” Amelia said. Dr Brown gave a nod.
“Oh, the police handed over the po
ssessions in your car to us. I’ll have one of the nurses package them up for you to take with you if that’s all right?”
“That’s fine,” Amelia replied breathlessly. Dr Brown got to his feet and smiled warmly at Amelia for a long moment.
“I am very pleased to see you recover so well. You really kept us all guessing a few times,” he said with a chuckle. His laugh did not distract Amelia from seeing the glistening tears in his eyes as he looked around the ward. Amelia climbed out of bed and stood up next to Dr Brown. He held out a hand for her to shake but she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him.
“Thank you for everything,” she said softly. Dr Brown stood rooted on the spot and solid like a tree as he awkwardly patted her back.
“Ah, yes, you’re very welcome,” he said as Amelia stepped back. “Now, just go on and live a wonderful life.” He squeezed her hand quickly before heading of the room and ordering, “Make it count.”
Chapter Nineteen
Bittersweet Memories
Amelia stood at the window of her apartment and looked out at the seafront deep in thought. She watched the waves crashing into the beach and a group of kids paddling in the water up to their knees. She watched an elderly couple walking hand in hand across the pavement along the water’s edge and the seagulls sweeping across the dull grey sky. A vibration in her pocket pulled her out of her thoughts and she pulled out her phone and placed it to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Is that Amelia? Amelia from the newspaper?” Amelia sighed. Since the news article Jerry posted, she had been inundated with phone calls from men proclaiming to be Toby. Some of them were prank calls, some were lonely men desperate to meet her. She sighed and hung up the phone. A few seconds later, the screen flashed up and the phone vibrated again.
“Leave me alone!” she shouted at the phone as she blocked the number. She turned around and stared at her empty living room. Her eyes lingered over the couch and she remembered snuggling up with Toby, resting her head onto his shoulder and falling asleep with him. Her throat burned as she swallowed and looked up at the ceiling. How could she have memories of Toby in her apartment when she only dreamed of being with him?