Baton Rouge General Hospital
Thursday December 23, 1993
Jen comes crashing to the surface.
Literally bolting upright. Eyes wide open. Coughing. Sucking in a deep breath. The bubble of the coma showering around her, long dark hair plastered to her head, the oxygen line and stomach PEG and IV tubes running down around her like water.
(Flashes of the trach dislodging.)
Panic, immediately, anxiousness. Shying away like a wounded animal when we approach to stroke and talk and tell her what is happening. Jen keeps looking around, at us, the room, her arms, the door, the stone dropped into her new consciousness (forever different from her life before) rippling anxiety across her face.
Dee grabs my arm, says, I think we just had a giant wakeup.