Blue Coma

Blue Coma
A short story
By Myles High

How long I’d been unconscious I have no way of knowing. I seemed only to remember bright lights and colors, but so vague and distant, I can not tell where or when. Imperceptible, slow, over how much time, who knows, I become aware of being conscious.
I seemed to be coming around, but, at first, I can’t feel myself. I’m only aware of being aware. Aware of my surroundings as I drift back in and out of consciousness.
Again I awake, this time seemingly more aware than before. Not only of my surroundings, which I can not begin to describe, but strangely I’m becoming aware of me. Strange is not the right word. In fact, there are no words to describe me or my surroundings.
Again I emerge from my slumbers. Perception seems to be my only reality. Though, I‘m now able to put some of it into words. I seem to be able to make out the faint, yet distant, sounds and rhythms of an engine. I‘m in motion. Yes, a smooth, fluid motion; though, now that I think about it again, I seem to remember occasional erratic motions. Now I know for sure, I’m in some kind of a vehicle, an ambulance I’ll bet. I must have been in an accident. That’s got to be it. Oh, but I can’t remember anything that might have happened to me.
My eyes are closed tight. Or is something covering them? I can not tell. I’m able to move, yet not freely. I realize ever so slowly, I’m confined. But whatever it is that confines me does not seem to touch me. This is very strange indeed. Am I wrapped in warm blankets?
I see. No! I perceive. I perceive movement. No! shadows of movement is a better description of what I think I see. Do I really see them, or is it just a perception, I still can not tell. I just know there’s something or someone there, outside wherever it is that I am, outside of me and my confinement.
Something must have happened to me. Something beyond memory. I must be in a coma. Yes, a coma of some kind. That’s it! I‘m trapped within myself. Strangely though I have sensations, feelings of calm, peaceful. I’m not afraid. Perhaps they have me medicated, tes, I must be sedated.
My breathing is not right either, it’s as though I were breathing under water, yet (thank God) without any panic of drowning. I seen to be getting plenty of oxygen.
I have tubes running into me, or is it out of me? Is it only one or many? I can not tell. But I know now; I’m being kept alive. Artificially, fed through tubes, even my oxygen is not my own. Maybe, they have some kind of a mask on me, one that I can not feel.
I can’t feel my body or my face. I must be paralyzed. But I can move, I can move my arms. I can move my feet.
Now I’m waking again. I remember feeling myself drifting off, perhaps the medication. I feel the smooth sounds and vibrations of the highway again.
A sudden jolt. My mind races back to life. The road is no longer smooth, I sense it’s surface, the pitch of the engine, it’s all different now. I’m awake, what woke me? It doesn’t matter, I’m still in this coma. My blue coma. Why blue, I don’t know, it just feels blue to me.
How strange; I realize I’m not afraid of the rougher roads, the sounds of the pavement, the rhythms of the engine, I’ve heard them all before.
And the shadows; I remember them from the last time I dosed off.
Why is it taking so long to get there? Surely there must be a closer hospitals, something nearby? Perhaps I’m being transferred. To a special hospital. Yes! That’s got to be it. They have hope for me, hope of a recovery. Joy envelopes me, I’m going to be alright, I‘m going to make it.
The thought of how much longer lulled me back into my peaceful, warm and safe slumber.
Yet again I’m jolted back into consciousness. This time by the sudden stop of all motion, though not completely, I’m now moving backwards, slowly. My head is swimming. It‘s not just me, there‘s much more movement going on around me, the shadows, the sounds, all seem intensified now. We must be here, at the hospital. Yes, we’ve stopped. Finally.
Somehow I’m aware that the door to my enclosure is opening, I feel a touch. A real touch for the first time since I slipped into my blue coma. There are bright lights everywhere, I keep my eyes shut tight to them. The voices are now clear and distinct, yet I still can’t make out what’s being said.
I’ve arrived, though fearful, and suddenly cold, unsure of where I am; I know I’m going to be okay though, I can tell by the care and love I feel.
Somehow, though my eyes are closed, maybe they’re not really closed, I"m conscious of doctors and nurses looking down at me, joyful and thankful I’m still alive. Somehow I know, though their faces are masked, they’re all smiling. I’m going to live. I’m going to be just fine, I hear the voice of the doctor clearly now. He looks up and clearly announces to my mother and father. "Congratulations, You’ve got a healthy baby boy.”