Sedatives

Incessant beeping and beeping–someone’s next to me. What was her name again? She’s putting shades over my eyes.

Oh, me? No, I’m not a nurse, but I want to be. This is just a shirt I got in high school. Oh, he’s distracting me. Why is everything so loud? It’s getting louder and louder and louder and louder…

I can’t see anything. Wasn’t there a light before? I can see this room from the outside. I can see my mom’s car from here. I can’t feel my hand. He must’ve struck a nerve with that needle.

I can’t keep my eyes open.

“You’re done,” I vaguely remember her saying as she pulled the oxygen tube from my nostrils. “Keep your eyes open for me.”

Who kept closing my eyes? Am I supposed to be this dizzy? Can I talk? I can’t feel my tongue.

“How do you feel?” she asked me.

“Dithy,” I felt like I said.

I liked to think I could just open my eyes and be okay. Drugs? Sedatives? What are those? They don’t work on me.

But I hardly remember anything. It’s been three hours? Holy hell.

They wheeled me into my mom’s car sometime in those three hours and now I’m awake on the couch at home like a babbling old woman who can’t help herself to the bathroom or to change out the bloody gauze pads.

What’s on my hand? Oh a gaping hole from the intravenous they put in me. And I have stickers all over my torso.

Everything hurt and everything still hurts, please make it stop…

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