I was put into a drug induced coma for the first two weeks after the car crash to spare me some pain and to let the surgeons work on me as often as they could. The pain seeped into my dreams though having its way with me there. I dreamt I was held captive in cages. I traveled great distances over mountains and through valleys. I was hitched to wagons. I lay in truck beds. I was always on my back. I tried in vain to curl up or turn to my side. There was no time to stop. I slept, but never rested. I was forgotten outside in the cold. I could see my breath. I was stretched until I thought I would break and sometimes I did. There were people everywhere, but I couldn’t reach them and they couldn’t see me.
Reality crept in once in a while, life and dream crossing lines blurring together.
I heard radio stations being switched. I’d recognize a song. Is that a Sarah McLachlan song? A gentle warning, “Heidi, we’re going to pull this out now,” as a tube was pulled out of my throat. There were whispers from people that knew my name. Desperate prayers said in low voices. Singing. Was someone singing to me? I willed myself to move, to speak, but my body was paralyzed and words didn’t take shape here. My dreams were holding me under. I had always been able to leave when I found myself in a nightmare. I could open my eyes and shake off the night. I was trapped in whatever hell my body was in and my mind wouldn’t let me go.