Being Operated on Feels Like Appearing on a TV Drama

POV: Jake

I feel weird. It feels as though my body is being crushed by gravity's force. I can't move a muscle. Ah, I get it. I'm dying, aren't I? Yeah, I'm definitely dying.

No. I didn't live my life to the fullest yet. I still haven't done so many things. I still haven't said so many things. I don't want to disappear like this. I gotta stay awake. Alright, Jake, pull yourself together. You've got to make it through this.

Despite desperately hanging on for dear life through sheer willpower, sometimes even the brain and the heart can't dictate the actions of your body, especially when you're like a messed up body kit of a DODGE valley drift. Yes. I'm messed up. No, I've done f*cked things up for myself. All I remember was I went out to look for Rose on a rainy night and some car ramming through me and losing consciousness.

How on earth did I end up here? I have people in white doing different things on my body. Am I dead? Am I in heaven?

Hold on. No, that's not it. I hear something. Beeping. I've watched enough medical dramas to know that the sound was coming from a Vital Signs Monitor. Yup, that's right. I'm hearing that sound in real time. Oh my god I feel like I'm on a television drama.

Despite knowing I'm in pretty dire situations, I still tried to joke around inside my mind. I knew that the moment my resolve is weakened, I would immediately die, which I did not want happening, yet. I've imagined this time and scene so many times in the past, but actually being here terrifies me and sends shivers down my spine.

One of the people taking care of me injected something through the dextrose. Dammit. Anesthesia. They're about to operate on me. Good thing I'll be asleep. Heck, if they performed a live wake surgery, I'd have been gone and out seeing my insides.

I hope that when I wake up, everything is still alright and without much complications. And oh yeah, I forgot to mention, they freaking shaved my head. Yup, you guessed it, I'm enlisting for the military. No, I'm playing. I guess they have to operate on my head too? So is this one of those medical dramas where it's a combined surgery where a Neurosurgeon operates on my head and my brain while a General Surgeon or Orthopedic Surgeon deals with my other injuries?

I hope all goes well.

I HAVE TO WAKE UP!

*Around 30 hours later*

As I awoke with blurry vision and a throbbing head and ribs, I was slowly regaining consciousness and realized I woke up. I'm alive. Alright. Well, well, would you take a look at that! I made it!

Alright let's see…

Hmm? Huh? That's weird. I don't remember how and why I'm here. Wait, what? This feels so weird and awkward. Who is this woman beside me? She feels awfully familiar, but also someone I don't think I've ever seen before. Was I reincarnated? No, I'm pretty sure I'm still on earth. Alright. Let's try to sort things out.

"Jake? Are you awake?", she asks.

I couldn't even answer when she hugged me tight and said,

"You crazy kid! I was so scared! I was so scared I might have lost you. God, how are you feeling? Hold on, I'll call the nurse."

Huh? I don't know you. My mom used to always tell us not to talk with strangers, but hey I don't really care anymore, duh. I'd just be aggravating and exacerbating the negativity around, so I'll simply choose to be happy to be alive.

I guess she's mom? What's going on? My memory is hazy.

"Mom?"

"Yes, son? What's the matter? How do you feel? Hold on, let me get the nurse."

Alright, that's one question answered. She IS my mom. Now then, on to the next one.

The nurse paged my attending and they both came into the ICU together with a team of more doctors, residents or interns I guess? I don't know. I've only seen these scenes on television dramas.

My attending did the initial checks on me, thereafter asking me about my present condition. How do I feel, where does it hurt, do I remember what happened. Well, I'm feeling pretty vegetable-like. Can't move so much yet, but my motor reflexes and skills are pretty alright. I can feel pain. Well, that's a good sign. Guess I didn't become alexythimic.