Forget-me-not

Cynthia

At some point, the murmurs stopped. The voices went silent and the steady beeping was placed on mute. The colors fizzled out and faded. All that was left was a black, but it wasn't scary. It's hard to be scared of something that you're not even consciously aware of. 

It was a lot like an isolated void. A big dark vacuum with zero sounds. The body was the home for the consciousness. It was still there and sedated with pain medicine. A lulling hibernation that made sense because winter had finally arrived. 

Cynthia wasn't aware of anything. Her body refused to let her experience this. There were no horrific nightmares, but there weren't any good dreams either. It was just simply nothing. A void state to be unconscious in while her brain repaired and regenerated itself. 

She wasn't aware of the soft somber snowfall outside. She wasn't aware of the conversation that took place out in the hallway a few days prior. She didn't know the nurses placed a catheter inside of her. She didn't even know she was in the hospital. 

It took three days of being in this state before she was brutally aware of it all. The over-stimulation of everything blindsided her. Whatever was poking her in the forearm itched. The liquid was cold as it dripped into her vein. The overhead fluorescent lights were too bright. They burned her bleary eyes. 

The piercing beeping sound coming from behind her was hurting her ears. The faint thrum of a headache was already beginning to form in her head. Every inhale and exhale felt like a challenge. Her face ached and her hands stung. 

"Cynthia?" A soft voice called her name. 

Her eyes went over to meet the piercing bright blue eyes of a red headed woman. A grin lit up her face as she leaned closer. "Can you hear me? Can you speak? Do you remember what happened to you?" 

The bombardment of questions caused her headache to intensify. She sucked in another breath and blinked. Her eyes scanned the room. The walls were the color of a coffee creamer. Brightly colored photos flickered rapidly on a TV across the way. The mouths of two people were moving, but she couldn't hear what they were saying over the sound of the beeping behind her. 

"Just stay here and try not to move. I'm going to go get a nurse real quick. I mean it, Cynthia, don't move." The woman sprinted out the door without another word. 

Cynthia sucked in more air and tried to remember everything. For whatever reason, she couldn't. She was here in this room and that was that. What happened to her? 

It didn't take long for the red-head to come back with a doctor and two nurses. All three of the medical personnel were in face masks. Anxiety began to swarm in her gut. She looked over at the red-head with a look of concern on her face. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. 

"I tried asking her questions, but she didn't respond," Flora explained. "Is she in shock or something?" 

"When people come out of comas, it's not like how it happens on TV. It can be a slow and gradual process. I'm sure she's overwhelmed by everything right now." 

"Hi, Cynthia." A woman with a lab coat slung over her shoulders smiled at her. "Please don't worry too much, you're in good hands here. Take all the time you need to look around. If you want to talk, you can talk. If you don't want to talk yet, that's okay too. You're safe here with us and we're here to help you." 

The reassuring tone made Cynthia relax a little, but she was still unsure about the whole situation. She glanced down to find herself beneath a sheet. She held up her hands to inspect them. They were still coated with cuts. Multiple tiny scabs formed over each one as they continued the healing process. 

The doctor sat in the chair beside the bed. She folded her hands and placed them in her lap and silently observed Cynthia. One nurse went over to check her IV and the other was typing things into an iPad. Flora stood back in the back watching and waiting. She rocked back and forth on the front pads of her feet and balls of her heels. 

After a while of silence, Cynthia finally spoke. "What happened?" She swallowed hoping to coat her throat with saliva. Both her mouth and throat were dry. Her voice came out croaky from not being used for a few days. 

"You don't remember, do you?" The doctor asked. 

Cynthia shook her head. 

"That's alright." The doctor pushed part of her bob back behind one of her ears. "You were in a car accident. You arrived here three days ago unconscious. Today has been the first day you were conscious. You've been comatose until now. Are you thirsty?" 

Cynthia nodded. The doctor turned to one of the nurses and the nurse nodded. She left the room to get a cup of water. The doctor's attention turned back to Cynthia. "Are you having any pain anywhere?" 

"My face and hands kind of hurt a little." 

"Does your head hurt?" 

"There's a small headache." 

The doctor nodded again and turned towards the other nurse. Cynthia didn't pay much attention when the doctor asked the nurse to up her dosage on some medication. Cynthia's eyes were too busy focusing on Flora in the back. She didn't know who she was or why she was there. 

She was dressed in a pair of baggy blue jeans and an oversized white t-shirt. There wasn't a face mask on her face. She didn't seem like she was a medical personal. 

"Can I ask you some questions, Cynthia?" The doctor's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she nodded her head. "Do you remember your name?" 

"You called me Cynthia, so it must be that." 

"That's correct. Do you know where you are right now?" 

"A hospital?" 

"Good." Even though Cynthia couldn't see it, she smiled beneath her mask. "Do you know what day it is?" 

"No." 

"Okay, let's try something else." She shifted in the chair and leaned forward a little. "What is the last thing you remember before waking up?" 

"I-" She cut off and frowned. She tried to think, but nothing came through. There was nothing in her brain besides empty space. "I don't know." 

"Nothing?" 

She shook her head. 

"Do you remember what happened to you?" 

Her head shook again. "You said I was in a car accident, but I don't remember anything about it. Is that bad?" 

"That's alright. It's normal for a patient's memory to be fuzzy when they first wake up. I'm sure it'll come back to you soon." 

"Who is that?" Cynthia couldn't help herself. She pointed back towards the woman in the back of the room. 

Flora glanced up with wide eyes full of worry. Her eyes met the doctor's eyes and the doctor glanced back down at Cynthia. "You don't know who that is?" 

"No." 

Flora felt her heart cracking in her chest. She stared at Cynthia hoping she'd remember. She stepped towards her bed, so Cynthia could see her better. "You don't recognize my voice?" 

"Should I?" 

"I was talking to you while you were unconscious. We're best friends and we talk every day. You don't remember that? I'm Flora."  

Cynthia's eyes narrowed at the woman. She was beginning to wonder if she was being pranked. Surely, she'd remember her best friend, wouldn't she? 

"Perhaps your memory will come back soon. Try not to worry too much," the doctor reassured her again. "These things take time before they come back. I'm going to have to run some tests on you, is that okay?" 

Cynthia nodded without objection. Flora seemed upset as she stepped towards the back of the room. Cynthia swallowed nervously and her eyes went to the floor. It's not like she purposefully forgot the existence of her best friend. 

Memory loss isn't always pre-planned.