Page 58 of Stroked
Blinking my eyes rapidly, I had a hard time adjusting with so many bright lights in my face. I was going to rub my eyes but couldn’t lift my arms.What is going on? Why can I not move? Where am I?Short breaths came in pants, but then someone leaned over me.
“Ma’am, you’re alright. You’re in an ambulance. Good to have you back.”
“What is happening?” Almost as soon as I asked, it all came back. I was strapped on a stretcher because I was in an accident. “Where are we going?”
“We’re pulling into Kennestone now. Can you tell us your name?” The man’s tone was smooth and calming.
“Val. Valentina Santos. How long was I out?”
“Just a couple minutes. Probably shock, but they’ll run tests inside.”
A light flashed into my eyes as the man pulled at the skin on my upper eye, then did the same on the other. I couldn’t move my head and, blinking rapidly when he was done, I saw dots of black.
The movement stopped and the doors opened, obvious only from the sounds and the sunlight flooding in. I was quickly outside the ambulance and being rolled inside, only able to see the awning above the entrance, then the tall ceilings inside.
It was unnerving not being able to move my head, arms, or legs. I tried to stay calm but the sensation of being completely trapped made me nervous and I started panting again.
For a few moments, there was no noise other than that of the rolling of the stretcher and footsteps. Suddenly, a rush of sounds surrounded me, but I couldn’t see anything except the panels of a drop ceiling with little black spots splattered around.
Lots of beeping sounds, talking, other rolling sounds, and more footsteps were all around. The voice of the man with me from the ambulance was giving my name and a synopsis of the accident to someone.
A new voice, that of a woman, was near me, thanking him. “Valentina, we’re taking you to an ER room while we get you set up for some tests. Is it Valentina Santos?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
There was a series of clicks, then the woman explained they were transferring me to another bed. I barely moved through the process, but the whole event was disorienting since I couldn’t move and all I saw was the ceiling.
Once in a quieter area—I assumed the ER room she mentioned, since I could see the corners of the walls against the ceiling and it was a smaller space—she asked me several personal questions, like date of birth, address, allergies, that sort of thing. Then even though I thought it was cliché, I was blinded again by a small flashlight and asked how many fingers she was holding up.
“I have to step out, but the doctor will be in soon, then we’ll run some tests. I’ll be back with some pain meds. Hold tight.”
Wonderful. Of course, she didn’t ask if I needed anything. My mouth was incredibly dry, but I supposed most people would start making wild demands if they were given the opportunity. As I lay there, strapped to a table, all I could see, besides dots on the ceiling, was Amy’s face as I walked away. My lip trembled and tears squeezed from the corner of my eyes, running over my temples.
It wasn’t long before a new female voice came in. “Ms. Santos, I’m Dr. Charles.” Another light flashed in my eyes before she leaned over me. “Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort anywhere?”
“No…well, yes. My arm. The left one. My chest feels tight and my head hurts. But I think I’m alright.”
Before they removed the backboard and neck brace, the doctor told me she was going to palpate several places and make sure everything was stable. After pressing on me in several places, she stepped away; I heard typing as I stared at the dots on the ceiling, still picturing Amy.
“They’ll be here soon from radiology. And we’re getting some pain meds. Hang tight.”
If I could have nodded, I would, but my lips drew together in a thin line. It’s not like I could go anywhere. I couldn’t even move my arms or legs since I was strapped down like a criminal.
The nurse came back and put something into the IV that they used in the ambulance. A shot of cold ran up my arm, but soon I was getting drowsy. It seemed to take forever to go through x-rays and establish that my spine was intact and my shoulder was dislocated, but after that, I was put back into the same room in the ER to wait on a CT Scan. Whatever was in the IV was making my body numb.
The whole hospital could probably hear my mother walking down the hall, cursing in Portuguese.
“Val!” she shouted as she rushed in. She stopped short of me when she saw the brace on my arm. “A minha neném! What is this? What happened? Are you alright?”
I waved my good hand, then felt hers grab it and squeeze. “I am fine, Mãe. It was a car accident. Just a dislocated shoulder.”
Her free hand flew to her mouth and tears filled her eyes. She wiped a rogue tear, then leaned down, careful to not touch my left arm. She ran her hand over my face, searching me with her eyes.
I couldn’t help but lightly giggle. “I am going to be fine. The x-ray was clear for my spine, and I am fine. They just have to do the test before they can let me leave. Just the shoulder seems to be a little out of place.”
She sat and pulled her phone out. It wasPapai. I rested my eyes for a few minutes as she filled him in.
I woke up to someone asking my name and date of birth. Mãe tried to answer but they asked me again and said it was hospital procedure, so I slurred the information out. The medicine had me very drowsy and groggy.
