A soft rhythmic beeping came from somewhere near by. My head throbbed, and every muscle in my body ached. It felt as though I had been hit by a train, but I did not yet open my eyes. Instead, I took a moment to survey what surrounding I could using my other senses.
I was laying down, cool sheets pressed against my back. Other then the beeping sound, my ears picked up on the faint sound of someone, or several someone's, breathing. A small sliver of light peaked through my lidded eyes. My arms felt heavy, my left wrist was stiff. Finally, I slowly opened my eyes to take in my surroundings.
The room was small, the walls a painted a crisp white color. The lines on the EKG machine in the corner of the room mirrored the Rhythm of the beeping. I was in the hospital...I hated hospital. Frantically, I shot up and attempted to rip the hospital blankets back off my legs, by arms remained at my side. I looked down in a panic to see restraints had been placed firmly around my wrists, holding them close to the raised side bars of the hospital bed. 'What the hell?' I thought to myself as I thrashed wildly against my restraints.
"Ainsley!" I heard Kate shout excitedly as she rushed to my side, the relief in her voice plain as day. My panic eased as I registered that the breathing in the room belonged to my best friends.. Of course they'd be here. "June, grab Nancy! She'll want to know That she's woken up! Go!"
With that, June scurried out the heavy wooden door of my hospital room to fetch my mother. Kate turned back to me slowly, concern replacing her normally carefree expression. "Ainsley..." she spoke carefully, as if she were afraid the wrong words might shatter me.
"Kate, what's going on?" I could still feel the lump of fear in my throat, as if I had try to dry-swallow a large pill. I swallowed hard, "What happened? Why am I here? Why am I tied down?" The questions rattled past my lips one after another so quickly that Kate didn't have time to answer before I was assaulting her with the next inquiry. I pulled hard against my restraints, desperate to free my arms.
"Ainsley," again her words were slow and careful. "I need you to calm down. I promise we will answer all of your questions, but we really need to get your mom and the doctor in here to make sure you're okay. You gave everyone a pretty bad scare."
"You guys are scared? I am the one strapped to a hospital bed like some loon! Why am I here!" I shouted, at that moment a tall dark haired man in a pristine white coat entered the room followed by my mother's slight frame.
"Ainsley, thank GOD you're okay." She threw her arms around me, pulling me hard against her chest. No doubt taking advantage of the fact that my hands were tied down, making me unable to resist her affection. "How are you feeling, honey? Do you need anything? Tell me what I can do." I drew away from her, confused. Just hours before hand, we had both been refusing to speak to each other unless it was absolutely necessary. But now, questions spilled out of her mouth as quickly as they did my own just moments before."
"Excuse me," the tall man finally spoke, clearing his throat softly to bring my mother's attention away from me long enough to get a word in edgewise. "Ms. Greene, I know you are extremely worried about your daughter, but I do need to ask Ms Summit a few questions about what occurred prior to her losing consciousness to help us determine what the root cause of this issue is." Even almost a year later, it still felt wrong to hear someone call my mother by her maiden name of Greene. When she decided to change her name, I had been so angry. I could understand it if my father had been some philanderer that stepped out on mom, or if they'd had a nasty divorce. But he wasn't, he was a good man...and he was dead. Within weeks of his passing, mom had changed her last name, sold my child hood home and moved us across town; leaving behind anything that reminded her of my father or Cecilia...reminded her of all we'd lost. In the end, I had only managed to save the old antique vanity table that had once occupied my sister's bedroom.
"Ms Greene?" The doctor added politely after a moment without any indication that she intended to move.
"Oh I am so sorry!" She spoke suddenly, popping up from my bedside and making her way to one of the vacant chairs in the corner of the room.
"It's no problem, Ms Greene. You and your family have experienced a lot of stress today. We will get you out of here as soon as we can. I just have a few questions for your daughter, and a few more tests we need to run before we can release her." The Doctor turned his attention to me. "Good evening Ms. Summit. I'm Dr. Goodwin, I am the physician who has been overseeing your care since you were brought in earlier this afternoon. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? Afterwards, I will make sure to answer any questions you have. Is that alright" he spoke with the same careful tone that Kate had used when she spoke to me. It was like the words *FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE* stamped across my forehead.
"Yeah., sure. But..." I paused, "Do you think you could let me out first?" Dr Goodwin wore a confused expression. "My arms, I mean." I flailed my arms about within my limited range of motion in irritation.
"Oh," he chuckled, "why yes, of course Ms Summit. I don't think we have any further need of them." He said as he undid the strong tethers that bound my wrists. I rubbed at the tender patches of skin that were raw from when the bindings had cut into them. "I do apologize, Ms Summit..."
"Call me Ainsley." I interrupted curtly.
"Of course. I do apologize, Ms Ainsley. We did not intend to frighten you. However the bindings were necessary in your circumstances."
"My circumstances?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice even.
"Yes, your circumstances. Around 3 PM this afternoon, you were brought in via emergency transport after having suffered a rather severe Tonic-clonic seizure, also known as a Grand Mal seizure." He flipped through the notes in his chart for a moment before continuing. "Your chart states you were unconscious when emergency services arrived, and that you had two additional epileptic seizures of near equal severity while in transit. You were restrained after the 2nd of the three seizures to prevent you from doing any further harm to yourself unknowingly. The severity of your convulsions resulted in rupturing of several blood vessels in your eyes and nose, causing a posterior epistaxis, which basically means your seizures caused a rather severe nosebleed."
I sat motionless as I absorbed what the doctor was telling me. While knowing what had happened brought me some sense of relief, a new wave of dread washed over me with the realization that my health was compromised.
"Am I gonna die?" The question escaped my lips before I could stop myself. I could feel the tension that my sudden inquiry had added to the room. I couldn't ignore the grave knowing look that flashed in my mother's eyes before it was again replaced with the stoic expression that normally graced her features.
Dr. Goodwin let out a tense chuckle. "No, Ms Ainsley. I don't believe so, though you did give us quit a scare there. We are going to run a CT scan to check for any abnormalities in your brain, however I do need to ask you a few questions. Ms. Greene," he turned to my mother briefly. "We may need your assistance in answering any questions pertaining to family medical history, so I ask that you remain here until we have finished. I must ask every else to please step out of the room for just a few minutes while I complete my examination."
My friends were quick to comply. It wasn't until they were walking out the door that I realized there was a third unknown person in the room, following June and Kate out into the hall. I didn't see his face.
"Who was that?" I probed as the door clicked shut, I was curious why some stranger had been lurking quietly in the corner of the room.
"Oh," the Doctor smiled "that would be the young man that leapt into action to assist until paramedics arrived on the scene. Managed to keep everyone calm, while performing the necessary steps to keep you alive. Make no mistake, you got lucky today. Without his quick thinking, you very well could have died today. If you feel up to it, I can send him back in after we finish so you can meet him."
I nodded. I couldn't put my finger on why, but I was curious about the mystery boy that selflessly helped me despite having no indication of who I was. Despite attending the same school for most of my life, I faded into the background after my sister disappeared.
"Now Ms. Ainsley, can you please tell me the last thing you remember before losing consciousness." Mr. Goodwin flipped to a new page on the chart and began scribbling notes as I answered.
"Yeah, umm..." I thought hard for a moment. It took a lot of effort to recall the events of just a few hours ago. "I was in gym class," I said. "We were running for warm up lap...I had only been in class maybe, 10 minutes?"
He scribbled a few notes, reviewing over my monitors and jotting more information into my chart as he listened "Good Ainsley, what else happened?"
"I was running...and I got a splitting head ache. My ears started ringing, like someone was blowing a dog whistle in my ear. And I saw..." I strained to remember "flashes...like pictures in my head."
"Do you remember what you saw" he asked.
"I...don't remember. Everything was really fast. I just remember I could feel my nose running, and it felt like someone was stabbing my brain over and over again with an ice pick, and I was afraid that something bad was going to happen...and that's it."
"That's okay," Mr Goodwin assured. "Some people who experience seizures have reported experiences feeling an aura, or premonition. Do you have a history of epilepsy in your family?"
"I don't think so," I responded.
"No history of seizures." My mother affirmed.
"Prior head injuries?" He continued.
"Not unless I was dropped on my head as a child" I joked...no one laughed.
"And Ms. Ainsley, I have to ask to be sure we have a full picture...but any consumption of illegal substances." My mother didn't move, but I felt her stiffen beside me as she waited with baited breath for me to answer."
"No." I stated. Sure I wasn't perfect. I was known to frequent a high-school party or two when June and Kate forced me to live a little, and I would have a few drinks. But I never saw the appeal of being too messed up to function. Dr. Goodwin continued with his line of questioning for the next few minutes, collecting detail after detail of my medical and family history. In between questions, Dr. Goodwin fluttered about the bedside,checking my pulse, listening to my heart and checking blood pressure levels.
"Okay," he removed his stethoscope and hung it gingerly about his neck. "We are about finished up here, the last thing I need you to tell me is if you have experienced any changes in your sleep or eating habits?"
I didn't answer, and for a long moment the room was dead silent. My loved ones were well aware of my struggle with my nightmares the last few years, especially after my father died. But I hadn't exactly told them that I resorted to avoiding sleep all together. I didn't enjoy talking about my nightmares, admitting my desperation to avoid them would only push them to ask me more about the reason behind my aversion.
Dr. Goodwin took notice of my hesitation. "Ainsley, it's really important that you answer honestly to give us the best chance of properly diagnosing what brought on the sudden onset of the seizures you experienced today."
I took a deep breath, glancing over at my mom. Her expression was colored with worry and something else that I couldn't quite identify. She looked almost guilty, and like she was nearly as afraid as I was.
"I guess I haven't been sleeping so great for a while."
"How long is a while?" He asked adding more scribbled to the chart he held in his hand.
"Well, in all honest, I haven't had a good nights sleep in a few years, but the last two months have been especially hard."
"She has nightmares," my mother interjected, her voice oddly tense as she spoke. "After her...sister disappeared, she started having bad dreams. Her father and I put her in therapy to deal with the trauma of losing her sister, and she got better. When he died...well, when he died her dreams got worse."
"And are you still in therapy to deal with your dreams, Ainsley?" His pen stopped moving for a moment and Dr. Goodwin looked at me intently.
"No, I can deal with the dreams. They aren't that bad anymore, honestly." I lied.
"She cries out in her sleep nightly." My head snapped towards my mother. I did occasionally wake up screaming, but I wasn't aware my mother knew about it.
"Is that true, Ainsley?" Dr. Goodwin inquired suspiciously.
"Well sure, I guess." I shrugged my shoulders, working hard to make it look effortless despite feeling forced and robotic. "Sometimes I wake up screaming, but I'm sure it isn't every night." I lied again, shooting a sideway glance at my mother, pleading with her not to push the issue. She didn't.
"How many hours would you say you sleep per night in the last 2 months?"
"Three...maybe 4 hours a night." Another lie. I didn't want to admit that I was often awake for two or three days at a time between those short burst of sleep.
"Thank you, Ainsley. I believe that's all we need for now. All of your vitals are good, but we will wait until after we get the results of the CT scan before we further diagnose. Do you have any further questions for me?"
"No, sir." My voice was barely audible. My body grew heavier with every passing minute.
"Alright then. Someone will be in to take you to your scan shortly. Do you still feel up to meeting the gentleman who helped you?" I sat up at his question, my curiosity outweighing my exhaustion. "He hasn't left your side much since you were brought in, even insisted in riding in the ambulance with you."
"Yeah...yeah I would!" I ran my hands threw my hair, noticing for the first time that the ends of my curly red hair were matted together with dried blood. In spite of that, I still needed to see the face of whoever had made sure I was okay.
"Wonderful," Goodwin smiled. "I'll send him in."
Goodwin exited the room, leaving my mother and I alone for a few moments. Trying to find words to express how I felt was impossible, all I managed was "I'm sorry you heard me screaming."
My mother laughed...a real laugh. A laugh I had not heard in years. "Honey, you can wake me up all night long and I wouldn't be angry. I just glad you're okay." She took a seat beside me on the bed, rubbing one hand soothingly up and down my arm as she did so. "Despite what you think, I love you very much and I worry about you constantly. I just want to know that you're okay, Ainsley. Maybe it's time we get you back into therapy...you know, to deal with your fathers passing."
"Oh, because you've handled it so well?" My words dropped with venom as I spat them at her, shrugging her had off my shoulder and putting as much distance between us as the tiny bed would allow. "You know, pretending he didn't exist doesn't make you 'all better', mom. It doesn't mean your dealing with it. Quite the opposite, actually."
"Ainsley, I'm n-" before she could utter another word, the latch clicked on the room door and swung open slowly. In the doorway stood a boy around my age, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Shaggy brown hair swept across his forehead, framing a pair of alarmingly green eyes that shone like emeralds.
I knew those eyes all too well. Though in my dreams, they had always been brimming with terror.