This scene is called waking up in a hospital room

Damn, my head hurts so bad. Ugggghhhh, why does it hurt this much? I instinctively clutch my head with my hand, massaging it to soothe the pain. I use my other hand to prop myself up on the bed, my fingers clutching the starchy white sheets. My bleary eyes pry themselves open, attempting to view the surroundings. When my eyes do adjust themselves to the light, something about the room felt off. Wait, where am I? Where is this place? Is this even my bedroom? Has my bedroom always looked like this? My attempt to remember what my bedroom looked like is met with waves of pain. Arggggg! I rock back and forth, grasping my head to try to somehow stop the pain. I scrunch up my nose and tightly shut my eyes, starting to count. 1, 2, 3, 4,... 465, 466, 467, 468, 469. More than seven minutes has passed, and the pain has finally died down. I breathe a sigh of relief. With my head clear, I finally get the chance to take a good look around.

Alright, I can definitely say this is not my bedroom. Problem is, I don't really remember what my bedroom looks like, but I'm pretty sure this place is not it. This place looks more like a . . . hold on, is this a hospital room? The four white bare walls give the room a clean, yet suffocating feeling. To my right, bright sunlight filters through a large window. Pale, green curtains are swept to the side of the window, and a bold, azure sky dominants most of the view. Judging from what I can see from the bed, I would say that this floor is pretty high up. I wonder what floor this room is on. The furnishing of this room is simple. There is a long sofa alongside the wall with the window, and a small coffee table to compliment it. On the opposite side near the door, there is a counter and sink. A flat screen tv is mounted on the wall right in front of me. Moreover, my left arm is hooked up to a strange machine, which beeps every two seconds. I look down to see a needle poking into my left arm, hooking me to a bag hanging off a "coat rack" via a long thin tube. I try tugging at it, but it won't budge. Probably something to do with the tape. This is what you would call a standard hospital room, and this scene is called waking up in a hospital room without having any idea why you're here. What the heck is this situation? Why am I here? What really confirms my suspicions of this place is the sharp alcoholic smell that stings my nose. No, I'm not talking about booze, I'm talking about rubbing alcohol. You know, the stuff you put on cuts and wounds? Yeah, that stuff. The smell is really driving me crazy because it's reminding me of the smell of blood. Blood... Dark red begins to fill my vision, and my breathing quickens. My surroundings slowly disappear, and I feel myself entering a trance-like state. My brain is filled with the metallic, fishy smell of fresh blood. My spine is tingling, and I can't help but shiver. Images of blood splattering everywhere keep flashing in my mind. A curious thought pops in my mind. What would it look like if the white hospital walls were dyed in red?

The coarse, howling scream that jumped out my throat wakes me up from my trance. Arrrggg, a hiss of pain escapes through my clenched teeth. It's happening again, this damn headache. I thought it went away already. This time, the pain felt even sharper and more prominent. It felt as if someone had placed my head under the wheels of a chevy pick up truck, and thought it would be amusing to drive back and forth over my head while watching me screaming and writhing in pain. A second later, however, the pain stops. It was as if the person had driven off, impulsively deciding I was no longer worth the time, and there were other roadkill needing to be run over. I relax. The pain is finally gone. But the absence of pain is quickly filled with panic and confusion. What was I thinking a second ago? Dying the walls red? What kind of psycho thinks of those things? And I still haven't figured out why I'm here. Wait, I need to calm down. I can figure this out. What was I doing before coming to the hospital? Yeah, that's right, before coming here I was... I was... Huh? That's strange, I can't remember what I was doing. No need to panic, no need to panic. I just need to call home, tell them I'm in the hospital, and ask them to pick me up. Wait, who do I call? Where's home? This is ridiculous, how could I not know where home is. Home is definitely... Who am I, again?

What happens next is a blur. A couple minutes after my first scream, doctors and nurses start rushing in. They said when they found me I was blankly staring at the wall. When they approached me, I looked at them as if my soul had left me and I was an empty shell. However, when the main doctor stepped closer to talk to me, I had grabbed him, as one of the nurses had put it, "tighter than a pinching crab pinching pennies." One of the nurses thought I was attacking poor Dr. Marden, and started hitting my arms with the back of her clipboard. Nevertheless, my grip remained strong, and poor Dr. Marden thought he was going to die. They said that I was sobbing hysterically, yelling things like, "I don't know who I am. I can't remember anything." They had tried to calm me down, but I had clung to Dr. Marden like a koala. Eventually someone gave me a diazepam injection, and shortly after I fainted.