So, right about now in the story I was lying in a coma at The Alfred intensive care unit with a device that looked like a turkey baster drilled into my head that measured the swelling of my brain. Obviously if my brain started swelling and putting pressure on my skull, that would be a Very Bad Thing.

 

My sister was told that my memory would be shot when I came to, so she started making a coma diary for me. It also helps to pass the time and gives me a recap of what was going on while I was under. Here’s an excerpt:

 

11/9, about 5:30pm

Josh, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back straight away. You sounded extremely upbeat about your planned move the next day and wanted to talk to you about that. We did a drive-by on your flat the previous week and I was so excited for you.

 

11/9, 7:30pm

I was calling you back… your flatmate Ash answered the phone. He said, “Bec, I don’t want to alarm you, but Josh has been hit by a car.” I thought you might have had a bit of a scare and maybe minor injuries as I rushed to the Alfred Hospital. I was calling you as you were hit by the mini-van.

 

11/9, 8:30pm

You finally arrive at the hospital. Apparently it had taken an extra-long time as they sedated you at the scene. Angelo and I became more worried as time dragged on and I shit myself when a policeman wanted to talk to me. After about an hour a doctor came to speak with us… until this stage we really didn’t know what was going on. I half expected you to be in the emergency centre, upright and smiling apologetically for freaking us out. Bob (Dad) had arrived by this stage too.

 

We were ushered into a private room with two couches. A box of tissues on the coffee table separating the couches. The doctor was South African and still had quite a strong accent. She painted a reasonably positive picture about your status – lots of micro bleeds, bruising but a long recovery.

 

12/9, morning

You’re still hooked up to a shitload of machines:

1.     Ventilator that helps you breath, with a tube down your mouth into lungs

2.     Morphine drip

3.     Other drugs that keep you well under

4.     IV drip

5.     Feed drip (tube up nose and down throat)

6.     Catheter (ouch!)

7.     Heart rate monitor

8.     Brain pressure monitor (in skull)

9.     Fairly sure I’ve missed one or two.

 

There is nothing to do but wait and see if the pressure in your brain increases.

 

19/9

Things about Josh:

-       Has ‘thing’ for chicken parma

-       Ambitions to be a journalist

-       6’4, good looking. Epitomises the “all the good looking ones are gay or taken” single girl lament.

-       Has a close knit group of friends who are described as ‘awesome’ or ‘cunts’ depending on mood.

-       Cranky til 11am in the morning.

-       Self-pic extraordinaire.

-       Can run v. fast with significant back pack weight then spark a ciggie straight away.

-       Is hard to really stress out but gets cranky lots.

-       Hates planning things too far in advance but interestingly will write quite anal to-do lists.

-       Finicky about expiration dates on food but will leave bathroom uncleaned for ages.

-       Can talk to anyone.

 

20/9

Nurse: Sue. Sue has psoriasis; all over her arms and itches a lot. I find this quite off-putting; if you were awake I’m willing to bet you’d find it disturbing as well.

 

They are going to start backing off your drugs today. Bob and I are hoping for a ‘Hollywood’ stytle wake up, but the booklet tells us to expect anything to two weeks of what we saw today:

-       lots of movement

-       opening eyes but not seeing

-       you were coughing a bit

-       cranky bear mutterings?

 

Today you also pulled your catheter out. OUCH.

 

21/9

BEST DAY SO FAR

Today you were opening your eyes and seeing, could recognise us and were trying to talk. When Angelo asked how you were, you said, “I’m alright. JESUS!” You laughed at us when one of your farts was particularly stinky.

 

On the way out, as we were making our goodbyes, you were trying to say something so I leant in closer to hear… You were saying “kiss”, and planted a big smacker on my cheek. Bless! No prizes for guessing my girly reaction. Bob shook your hand in a very manly way. I guess we got our Hollywood moment.

 

24/9

Statement of today: Lyn (Mum) asked if you needed a nap. Your reply: “What do you think I do all night?” Cranky before 11am.

Statement of yesterday: “Why do I sound like a fucking retard?” (Funny at the time. But not funny cause it’s true.)

 

29/9

I gave you some water. Exchange went like this:

Me: “Would you like some water?”

You: “Only if I don’t have to eat it.”

Me: “No, you drink this one.”

You: “OK then.”

Big thirsty gulps through straw.

You: “Wow, that tastes just like water!”

Me: “No shit, it is water.”

You: “GET OUT!”

Me: “NO WAY!”

You: “THAT’S AWESOME!”

 

You also asked what happened, and were very surprised to hear that you had been hit by a car, that your ankle was broken and your neck was fractured. All in all, some interesting conversations. Started getting really super cranky. After waiting 18 days for this, I’m almost wishing you’d go back to sleep.