The vibration of her Blackberry woke Carol. She slowly opened her very heavy eyes.
Everything around her was blurry. She blinked several times and tried to focus her eyes on the
number displayed on her Blackberry screen. Squinting, she was able to make out the incoming
caller’s number. It was a client, a good client, calling with an emergency. It looked like they had
already called a few times, but she had somehow missed those previous calls.
Carol sighed, and stood up. Even though she was exhausted and had no interest in working
at all, she knew she couldn't ignore this emergency call. They called her directly, so she couldn’t
send Will out. This was her life, to be at her client’s beck and call. Once again she sighed,
knowing that she had to leave.
As she took a few steps, she noticed she was off-balance and stumbled. Carol assumed she
was more tired than she had initially realized. She paid no attention to the coffee table with the
pill vials and empty glass still sitting there, blatantly displaying their culpability. Unable to
remember what had transpired just a little while earlier, Carol concentrated on each step as she
walked towards the garage.
Slowly, she opened the door to the garage. She stared at the two cars. Her mind was far too
foggy to drive the GTO. She didn't have the coordination or wherewithal to handle the stick shift.
She hated the idea of using the Camry, but Carol knew it was her only option because of the rain
and her weariness.
As soon as she got into the car, Carol was fighting back a flood of memories she and Alex
had shared in this car. The Camry was old, but ever so precious to Carol. Carol was so tired and
emotional that she forgot to buckle her seatbelt. Hesitating, Carol started to slowly pull out of the
garage. She nearly crashed into the garage door when she realized she hadn’t hit the button for it
to open. Luckily, Carol was able to stop the car within inches of disaster. Carol tried to take a
few deep breaths when she hit the button, hoping to calm herself. While her heart raced from the
near accident, she waited for the garage door to open. Once the outside world was completely
visible, she drove cautiously towards her client’s office.
Even though she was tired, the drive seemed tolerable – at first. It didn’t take long, until
exhaustion overtook her. The longer she drove, the more unbearable the drive became. Mile after
mile, Carol was fighting her tiredness. Her eyelids were heavy and begging to close. She fought
to concentrate on the wet, slick road. Carol couldn’t keep focused. Her head slumped down and
she had to jerk herself awake only to repeat the pattern countless times. She knew she was tired
and depressed, but Carol couldn't understand why she was so exhausted.
She fought valiantly to keep her eyes open as she drove, but the weights on her eyelids
were far too heavy for Carol. Eventually, her eyes shut and did not open again. Blackness swept
Carol could vaguely hear all kinds of voices and noises. People were shouting all around
her, but she was unable to comprehend their words.
Waves of blue and white occasionally flashed in her eyes. Her surroundings were nothing
more than swirls of paint and colors. Her eyes were unable to fix themselves on anyone or
Her head felt heavy and flopping all around. Carol never felt so out of control of her own
movements. It was a strange feeling, yet she didn’t – she couldn’t care. Her thoughts were foggy.
Carol felt as though she was in a strange dream, and could not wake up.
She couldn't feel her body. She felt nothing, no pain, nothing, no heat, and no cold. She
couldn’t feel anything. Where was she that she lacked all sensation? Carol diligently tried to
focus on her surroundings and tried to make sense of all the activity going on around her, but she
was unable to sustain that for long. Once again her eyes rolled back and Carol was consumed by
“I have two megs per keg of morphine per hour, doctor.” It was a woman’s voice.
“Morphine? Doctor, she’s unconscious from a head injury. Shouldn’t she be given an
NSAID or any other form of pain management other than an opiate?”
“Okay, Ronnie. What did they teach you about morphine in school?”
“It raises intracranial pressure and there’s the risk of respiratory depression. That’s too
risky for a patient like this.”
“Very good, Ronnie. Normally that’s true. She’s stable for now though, so it should be
fine. If her resps decrease too much, we can always throw her on the ventilator. Now, you are
right about the intracranial pressure. So we have to watch for any signs of brain trauma. Now, we
need to get her moved into iso as quickly as possible.”
“ICU said that they are getting an isolation room ready for her right now. She should be
able to transport in about fifteen minutes,” the woman said.
Carol took in a deep breath. There was an odd sound to her breathing and she could feel
something covering her nose and mouth. She couldn’t open her eyes at all. Carol was lost. She
had no idea where she was or what was happening. This was the worst nightmare she had ever
experienced. Suddenly, she felt a cold shiver run through her body. She tried to curl up for
warmth, but she was unable to move. She heard strange noises coming from somewhere behind
“Hamm. It seems she has a slight arrhythmia,” the first male voice said.
“She’s also bradycardic, doctor.” Once again, the woman spoke.
“Okay. I want her on Epi, but watch for any PVC’s. I want her under constant surveillance,
and with her vitals checked q fifteen. You understand?” The first man who was referred to only
as “doctor,” said.
“Yes,” the woman answered.
Carol was confused by their words and her inability to see. She took another deep breath
in. Just as she did, her ability to think disappeared and she felt herself get swept away into
another deep sleep.