A flurry of activity. A hurried kiss and hug with Paul and then I was being whisked away, lying in my bed, staring up at strip light after strip light as we glided down the corridor, into the lift, down, then out, through double doors, yet another corridor, culminating in a further set of double doors and finally into a waiting bay where another nurse waited to greet me.
The television was on. News. I can’t remember what it was all about. I picked up a magazine from a small pile she had given me. Lurid headlines. ‘My husband was a woman and didn’t tell me until our wedding night.’ ‘I married a dwarf and gave birth to a giant.’
I pushed them away and settled for closing my eyes and trying to will myself out of my body. Between my legs the rash burned. End of the road for you, sunshine. You’re headed for a petri dish and a university research lab.
The nurse returned. A lock of her blonde hair escaped from behind her ear and she pushed it back absently. “We’ll take you down in a minute or two. They’re finishing up a small operation and then the theater will be all yours for the rest of the day.”
My levity gear kicked in. Humor always helped take my mind off the bad stuff. “I believe it’s standing room only. I’m unusual. That’s typical of me, you know. I can’t get a normal cancer, can I? I have to get one that most people in the medical profession never get to see in their lifetimes. When they all publish their learned papers on me, do you think I’ll get royalties?”
The nurse laughed. “You could always ask.”
“I could sell my autograph.” Behind the nurse, I saw an orderly approaching. My heart thumped its way half out of my chest, or so it seemed. But I had been given an ECG. Normal, I reminded myself just as I thought it was about to explode, and adrenaline pumped its way through me in a fountain of dread. Could I run away? Even at this late stage, I could hop off the gurney and make a dash for it. Over to my left, a set of fire doors. My legs twitched, my brain squealed at me to get out of there.
But where would I go? What about the cancer?
It had to be cut out of me.
And then it was too late anyway. And time seemed to speed up.
The nurse pushed open the double doors. The orderly wheeled me in and the two of them handed me over to the smiling team. Anita was there, ready to send me to sleep. Two scrub nurses smiled with their eyes, their mouths already covered in masks. Maryam said “Hello” and then something that didn’t register, but I knew was meant to be reassuring.
Anita told me she was sending me off to sleep. She inserted a needle into my cannula. “Pleasant dreams,” she said.
But not for me.
Instead of the boulevards and street cafes of Paris on a bright, warm spring day that I had willed my brain to dream about, I found myself back in the godforsaken tunnel.
Shadows closed in on me, whispering, cloying. I struggled to breathe, my lungs screaming for oxygen.
The light ahead pulsed in and out.
Breathe in…breathe out…in…out…in…out….
Two large almond shapes flickered. They seemed to be fringed, as if with eyelashes but on a giant scale.
I clutched at my throat. A furnace of pain burst through my body.
The shadows swirled and the almond shapes became more defined. They flickered again and again.
They opened.
I screamed. The glaring white of the sclera. The searing vermilion of the irises and the chasm-like black pupils focused on me, burning into my brain, yet freezing my soul. And the evil behind them. I could taste it, rotten, decaying, like eating a corpse.
The eyes had no face, no body and contained no soul. They came straight from hell itself. I screamed and struggled to break free but I couldn’t move.
You’re next.
* * *
“Nessa…Nessa. Open your eyes.” The gentle, familiar voice pulled me back, bathed me in warmth. Sounds drifted into my head. People talking, a smell of clean linen. “Nessa. Let’s see those eyes.”
“Not the eyes.” My voice croaked again as it had after the biopsies. My throat cried out for cold, refreshing water.
I opened my eyes. The light was quite dim. Joyce’s smiling face looked into mine. Never had I been so glad to see someone. Despite my throat, I smiled. “Could I have some water please?”
Joyce held the sipping beaker for me. It had a lid on to stop shaking hands spilling the contents. I needed that.
“You gave us a little bit of a fright there for a second. Your blood pressure shot up. But it’s all back to normal now. How are you feeling?”
I pointed to my throat. The water soothed it a little, but not much.
“It will be a bit sore for a few days. How’s everything down below?”
I felt distant pain, throbbing but muted. “Not too bad.”
“On a scale of one to ten where ten is unbearable and one is nonexistent?”
“Around five I think. I’m not sure. Everything feels a bit numb.”
“That’s the pain relief. We’ve given you a shot of morphine and you’re hooked up to a morphine push. Just press it when you want some more. Don’t worry, you can’t possibly overdose. It won’t let you.”
“Thank you.”
“You get some rest now.” She took the beaker off me. “I’ll leave this on your cabinet within reach and if you need a top up, let one of us know. Here’s your bell and this one operates the morphine.” She handed me the wired push buttons. “You’re also hooked up to a leg massager. It will automatically massage your legs through the wraps we’ve put around them. It may seem a bit of an odd sensation at first but it’s necessary to have them on for a few days until you’re back on your feet. We have to make sure you don’t suffer from embolisms, or blood clots. You can do without all that after what you’ve just been through. Oh, Maryam’s here. I thought she would have gone home by now. Your husband’s on his way.”
Maryam touched my right hand. “Hello, Nessa. I wanted to pop in to see you. The operation went well and we have sent everything off for a histology report, which we should have back in a week or so.”
“So everything is out and reconstruction done?”
“Yes. Mr. Waring and I kept Mr. Shah waiting a little. He has done a wonderful job.”
“Thank you.”
“And look at you with your sexy, husky voice.”
“Bit sore.”
“I know.”
Paul arrived, paler than when I last saw him. The laughter lines had deepened, as if he had aged ten years. He looked anxiously at Maryam. She turned her winning smile on him.
“I have just been telling Nessa how well everything went.”
Five years dropped off him. “Thank God. I was so worried. Over six hours….”
“Only five or so in theater. Nessa took a little longer to wake up. Maybe it was a lovely dream and she wanted to stay there a bit longer?”
I shook my head and wished I hadn’t. I felt seasick for a moment. “Nightmare,” I croaked. “Two huge eyes…shadows…a tunnel….” I shuddered.
For a second I could have sworn a look of recognition passed over Maryam’s face, to be instantly replaced by her usual sunny smile.
“Anyway, you’re back with us now. We’ll keep you on regular observations overnight and see where we are up to in the morning. Don’t wear her out now, Paul.”
“I promise. I’ll just sit with her for a little while.”
“Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you,” we said in unison.
Maryam left us but the lingering memory of that shocked expression refused to leave me. I hadn’t imagined it. Something I had said resonated with her.
Chapter Ten
The migraine started the following morning.
I’d suffered with them from the age of three or four but hadn’t had one for a few years, yet it began in the same ol
d, sickeningly familiar way.
Joyce had helped me have a bed bath, taking care with all the dressings and the temporary catheter. Not to mention the cannula, still providing me with measured doses of morphine for the pain. That hadn’t been as acute as I had feared, but now, leaning back against the freshly changed pillows, a jackhammer began down the right side of my head, quickly rising to a crescendo before I even had time to press my buzzer.
Joyce was there within a couple of minutes. “How are you feeling?” she asked, frowning. “You’ve lost all the color from your face.”
“Rotten all of a sudden. I feel as if I’m going to be sick. Migraine,” I said.
“I’ll be back in a second.”
With the taste of bile in my mouth, I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. I heard the little trolley being wheeled in. It contained everything the nurse needed to perform the routine round of observations. She pressed a disposable bowl in my hands, just as I retched. I struggled to open my eyes, now leaden with pain. A thin trickle of bile dripped into the bowl.
She put the thermometer in my ear, and pressure cuff around my left arm, as my head thumped ever more painfully.
“Your temperature’s a little high and your blood pressure is way too low. It’s odd because everything came out normally a couple of hours ago.”
I opened my eyes as Joyce pulled the sheet aside to get a better look at the urine bag attached to the catheter. She flipped through the notes and I closed my eyes against the pain, which was joined by the shimmering, flashing lights the migraine always brought on.
“I’ll get you a couple of paracetamol,” she said. “Do you still feel sick?”
“Not now,” I said.
“I’ll leave you a spare bowl just in case.”
I could tell she was concerned, but at that moment I couldn’t care less. All I wanted to do was sleep off the banging in my head.
It seemed only seconds later that I opened my eyes and Mr. Waring smiled down at me. “Right. Nessa, we’re going to do a couple of tests to check your kidney function, so a couple of nurses will wheel you down.”
The banging in my head had subsided a fraction but I still felt weak and listless. The morphine push had been removed. “That may have contributed to the migraine, although you used very little of it.”
“The surgical pain isn’t too bad, but this headache’s awful.”
“We’ll soon have you fit again, don’t worry.”
It took Joyce and another nurse to heave me out of bed. I felt enormous, bloated and knives of pain sliced through me. I had no strength and, despite their reassurances that it was all perfectly normal, I felt as if my body was disowning me, getting its revenge for having so much scalpel work. At last, I flopped into the wheelchair they had brought, but I soon realized the extent of my surgery. I bit my lip. Hard.
Joyce stroked my hand. “Are you sure you’re up to this? We can try again later if you prefer.”
The thought of struggling again into the wheelchair, and of giving up now after all the effort it had taken me to get this far, felt worse than the actual agony I was in. “No, let’s do it. It’ll soon be over.”
I floated on a sea of pain through a series of blood tests before they finally let me return to the ward.
Joyce tucked me in. “How’s the pain now?”
I managed a weak laugh. “Which one?”
“Either. Both.”
“Head banging again. Nether regions throbbing and stinging.”
“I’ll get you something.”
She returned with a couple of white pills and poured a glass of water. My hand shook as I took it from her.
“Now lay back and try to sleep,” Joyce said, placing a cool hand on my forehead.
Closing my eyes eased the pressure a little and I felt myself drifting. Maybe the effect of the pills. Maybe….
A noise roused me. I opened my eyes.
The room had grown dark. A few hours must have passed. Where was Paul? He was supposed to come at visiting time and that surely had to be now. But the other patients appeared to be asleep. Could it be that I had been out for hours? Had he come and gone?
A figure approached my bed. At first, it was in shadow; I couldn’t make out any features. It appeared to glide rather than walk – one minute a few feet away, the next right by my bed. Still I couldn’t distinguish the face and my eyes watered from straining to see.
Then it opened its eyes.
The gleaming white sclera, brilliant vermilion irises.
I screamed.
Pandemonium.
Patients woke, shouting out. Buzzers echoed down the corridor. The apparition had vanished, but I trembled and shook with fear.
A nurse I didn’t know rushed in and over to me and dragged the curtains across. Other nurses soothed the agitated patients outside.
“Whatever’s the matter?” the nurse asked me.
“I am so, so sorry. I must have been dreaming, but it felt so real.”
“What did?”
“A face. A woman. But not a real woman. A ghost. Oh, I sound crazy. I must have dreamed it and now I’ve woken everyone up.” Tears streamed down my face.
The nurse took my hand. “They’ll be all right. Tell me what you saw.”
“A sort of…woman…appeared. I couldn’t see her properly but I’ve seen her before. It’s her eyes. They’re enormous. No one’s eyes could be that big. And the irises are a brilliant red color, with large black pupils that seemed to want to swallow me. It was frightening.”
“It must have been. You’re still shaking.”
Mr. Waring put his head round the curtain. “May I have a word please, nurse?” He smiled at me. “I’ll be in to see you shortly.”
I lay back against the pillows, feeling stupid and foolish, not to mention guilty for having disturbed so many people’s much needed sleep. Rapid whispering – words I couldn’t make out – ended with both the nurse and the consultant returning to my side of the curtain.
The nurse smiled at me. “I’ll go and make you a nice cup of tea. Sugar?”
“One please.”
She left us. Mr. Waring crouched down by my bed. He spoke quietly. “Don’t worry. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last to have nightmares in here. You’re a bit of an enigma, aren’t you?”
“I don’t mean to be.”
He smiled. “At least I have some good news for you. We have the results of your kidney tests and they’re perfectly normal, but, on the flip side, your blood count is way down, so we have two options. We can either treat it over a period of days, maybe a week, to bring it up to speed, or accomplish that much quicker if we perform a blood transfusion. But I must warn you that you will never be able to donate blood again if we do. The decision is entirely yours.”
“If you had to recommend though?”
“Blood transfusion. Simply because your recovery would be that much quicker.”
“Let’s do it. I had one before, years ago, after a car accident.”
“Then you’re an old hand. I’ll get the consent forms for you to sign and we’ll get it started right away.”
“Thank you. Is Maryam all right?”
“Yes. It’s her day off today so I’m covering for her. She’ll be back to see you tomorrow. Now, get some rest and try to think happy thoughts.”
* * *
A short time later, I was hooked up. Another needle punctured my skin and the bag of whole blood began to drip into me. My heart would need to work hard, pumping all the extra blood around my system. Exhaustion overwhelmed me and I drifted in and out of sleep. When I opened my eyes, it was daylight, the ward a hive of activity and Paul was smiling down at me.
“You’ve been in the wars, causing mayhem, haven’t you?” he said with a grin.
Despite all the sleep, tiredness still enveloped
me in its shroud. Even talking proved a burden and my words slurred. “Not…intention…ally.”
“They’ve given you the good stuff I see. Forty per cent proof?”
“At…least.” I drifted off again, awaking later to find that at some point Paul had left and Joyce was standing by my bed, attaching a fresh bag of blood to my drip.
“Last one,” she said.
Once again I drifted off. Perfect, dreamless sleep. The rhythmic, strong beating of my heart lulled me. I stirred briefly to find my head no longer ached and I lay comfortably, free from anything other than a steady dull throb between my legs.
I awoke finally with a raging thirst. I pressed my buzzer and Joyce joined me. “You’re looking much better. You’ve certainly slept. We did observations every two hours and you slept right through them. The night staff tell me the same thing. How do you feel now, apart from thirsty? Could you eat anything? The trolley will be around with lunch soon.”
“Maybe some soup. My throat’s still sore.”
“I’ll see what I can do. It’s homemade tomato today. My favorite.”
It was mine too. The thought of it appealed. At least that would slip down.
* * *
“Vanessa…Vanessa….”
The voice. Barely a voice at all. More like the softest of breaths, dusting my cheek, drawing me from sleep. I opened my eyes. A shadow moved past the end of my bed and a feeling of calm spread over me like a soft blanket.
“Who are you?” I whispered.
The shadow slid past. Sleep once again reclaimed me.
* * *
The following morning, I awoke with a clear head and felt refreshed. Joyce was on duty again. “We’re going to get you up today. Take you for a shower and then, all being well, you’ll be transferred to your own room.”
I felt like cheering, especially as, since I had woken everyone up with my screaming, I could barely look anyone in the face.
I was still attached to a catheter, so showering was an awkward affair, but the feeling of cleanliness afterward made the effort worth it. The soothing spray on my tender parts provided a welcome relief too. A clean nightdress completed the overall feeling of wellbeing and when I emerged, Joyce was waiting to escort me. She steadied my arm as I took wobbly steps.
In Darkness, Shadows Breathe Page 13