As I opened my eyes, I felt the presence of light but my vision was blurry. The air around me felt dusty which may have been a cause. However, this was unusual for a hospital as they are supposed to be one of the cleanest places. Attempting to lift my hand to rub my eyes, I discovered I was unable to lift them up. I wondered whether it was due to the surgery, that my brain couldn’t think straight still, or it was the anesthesia that hadn’t worn off so I was still in a state of paralysis below my neck. I had heard of post-brain surgery patients needing time to recover their senses completely. I wanted to speak to the nearest medical staff to ensure if the surgery had been successful and understand how much time it would take before they discharge me. I tried to speak but my vocal cords wouldn’t budge.
I was growing anxious now. Where was my family? Why were they not next to me to notice that my eyes were open or at least my jaws were moving? Was I also deaf? I couldn’t hear the sound of medical devices beeping which I was used to over the last one month of my hospitalization before the surgery. I struggled to open my eyes, but eventually, I succeeded and could perceive what was obstructing my vision. Damn, this shoddy doctor covered my eyes with bandages as well. How silly of him, I thought.
My neck and the region below my shoulders felt immobile, but as I regained some sensation, I became aware that my entire face was wrapped in bandages. I wondered if it was a protective cast to prevent me from moving my head and risking damage to my skull. But then, how would the medical staff know that I was conscious? This realization triggered a wave of panic, and I began to move my jaws as much as I could to loosen the bandages, hoping to get attention from the nearby medical staff and uncover my face.
A few hours may have passed before I was able to partially see through one eye as the bandages started to come loose. However, based on what I could see, I was unable to identify my surroundings. The ceiling appeared much taller than the one in the dorm where I stayed prior to the surgery. Even if it was an ICU, didn’t make sense to have the ceiling so high, and so colorful that it reminded me of that time when I visited the Versailles years ago. I could sense a glass panel inches away from me. Before I could make sense of what was happening, my chain of thought was broken by footsteps approaching. I was happy to realize I wasn’t deaf and soon would get medical support as they realized I was awake. My voice still being suppressed, I tried to move my neck and jaw to the extent possible to seek attention. I still couldn’t look in the direction of the footsteps, but I could hear them moving closer to me. Finally! Excitement rather than panic. Help was here. They could tell me about my surgery results and tell me how soon I would be able to walk out of this damn place.
“Daddy!!!!!”, the voice shrieked. Oh, my son was here, finally excited to see me awake. But why do I remember his voice differently? Was it the result of my surgery that my perception had changed?
“Daddy! Look! That Mummy is moving! It’s alive”, said the voice. I was confused. Was he talking about another patient in the ward? I tried my best to look in the direction of the sound. Finally could see a boy in his early teens, hands over his mouth, but I could see him gasping for breath as his eyes were wide open, looking in my direction. Suddenly I see a hand grabbing him from behind. It was of a man who looked like in his 40s, with the same terrified look as his son had.
“Don’t worry son. Let’s get out of here. The museum security and police will take care of this. Let’s get out of here and call the police”.
Before I could comprehend what happened, I saw the glass panel above me open, and a strong current passed through my body.
When I woke up, wasn’t sure how many hours had passed, but now I was in a different location, much smaller, and much darker than the earlier one. I have not been able to move my neck or eyes since. The only sensation I seem to have working perfectly is hearing, and what I’m hearing is that I’m scheduled for another procedure. However, this time they’re labelling the procedure as a “scientific experimentation” rather than another surgery. I want to stop them but cannot. I hope they give me anaesthesia before they start.