First Impressions. - Part 3.

Being dead wasn't like she'd expected. There was an absence of heaven. She'd already been passing through hell and this bore no resemblance. Eternal nothingness wasn't making an appearance either. Instead she was in an afterlife no one had warned her about. Muffled voices. Flashing lights. One of which had tried to burn out her eye. Emergency was a word she'd heard before. If only she could remember what it meant. More voices. Cold, heat, cold, movement. They were sliding her into an oven. Steph could feel her body was at an angle. They were trying to jog her off whatever she was on. Something scratched her arm. It reminded her it had been scratched before. This was interesting. She'd have to write this down somewhere. The afterlife was extremely boring, only you didn't get bored. Nothingness caught up with her. If only she could lie still, it wouldn't hurt as much.

Nothing became something. Laser in the eye. Her pupils were reacting. Brain damage. Someone wanted her blood. Something became nothing. There was a voice. At first Steph couldn't understand what it was saying. The words made no sense. Coming to her through a filter. As though her ears were full of warm water. Olive oil? There were names in the words. Some of the names repeated. The voice carried on talking in confusing riddles.

Before she died, she'd been reading a book. "Sunrise. Sunset", by Felicity Gaynor. It was a number one bestseller. Top of the charts for ten weeks. A multilayer tale of an old lady reminiscing about her life and loves. Full of heartbreak. She'd only bought it to try to ascertain how to write a number one best seller. It had captivated her though. She'd become engrossed in the story, which was what best sellers were meant to do. It spoke to her even though it started in the latter days of World War Two. She'd been almost halfway through its 500 pages. Now she'd never finish reading it. Maybe this was heaven after all, because Steph was living it. The narrator's voice guiding her through her fictional life. Right up to the death of her second husband.

Oh balls, she was alive. The pain told her that. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't swallow past the blockage in her throat. Her arms and legs didn't work. It was shit, so this was definitely living. Her narrator called a nurse. That was kind. Kinder still if a pillow had been pressed over her face. That way she could get back to living the book. Things were beeping and bleeping. A cool hand pressed her forehead. Covers, she hadn't been aware of, removed from her eyes.

"It's alright sweetie. You're in hospital. Relax. A machine has been doing your breathing for you. I'm just going to remove the tube. It will feel very unpleasant."

Unpleasant? It was frigging agony choking that fire hose out. It went on forever. Then all the other tubes had to be removed. Including the one she'd been peeing out of. All she'd wanted was to know how to turn the Wifi on. How could that put you in hospital? Steph tried to talk. Her dry lips split. Her throat felt like the Kalahari desert. Someone pressed something damp to her mouth. She sucked at the moisture. When it was withdrawn before she could drain it, Steph began to struggle. More hands pressed down on her. Until something warm and fuzzy entered her body. She slept this time.

When she woke up her fragmented consciousness was slowly retrieving bits of herself. That man had attacked her. It was obvious. John, kind of my dad, had beaten her to a pulp for daring to ask for wifi access. It didn't make a lot of sense, given the garbled pieces of memory she had, it still felt right. That first thimble full of water, was the best thing she'd ever tasted. After that the doctor came to her. Oh great another bloody doctor. Once they got their claws into you, they never let go. This one destroyed her sadistic beating narrative.

"You had us worried there for quite some time." That sounded accusatory. As though he expected an apology. "Then we found out about your previous medical history."

Thankfully the quack diplomatically smoothed over that. It seemed the cocktail of toxins they'd pumped her full of, on her previous visits, had caused some damage. Along with the kidney, liver and lung damage she'd already been aware of. Something called a hemangioma had formed inside her skull. At the top of her nasal cavity, right next to her brain. The hemorrhage that almost killed her, saved her life. It seemed he wanted credit for that. There was a lot more medical speak and some questions designed to figure out if she still had all her marbles. The damage to her kidneys and lungs was repairing nicely and there was no scarring of the liver. All in all Steph was having a fabulous day, according to the medical profession. They were going to keep her in for a few more days for observation. The next day she was allowed to sit up and piss in a bowl.

"Your sister came back here a couple of days ago. We've notified her your conscious, she said she'd be visiting later today." The nurse advised her.
"How long have I been here?"
"Ten days now. You went into a coma, then we induced a coma to carry out the surgery. It was touch and go there for a while, but God doesn't need you yet."
Damn, she must have been near death's door for Mel to come all the way from Edinburgh.
"Do you know if my sister is staying here? She lives in Scotland."
The nurse plumped her pillows.
"She was here the day after you were admitted, then she came in a couple of times after that. There was nothing she could do. I don't know if she's been popping back and forth. We kept her updated as your only contactable relative. No parents?"
"They're still around. Took off on a round the world cruise when my dad retired early. Should be somewhere in the Pacific right now."
"Well, at least your guardian angel was here for you every day."
"Guardian a..?."
Mel hustled in the door at that precise moment. She looked tired.
"What am I going to do with you little sister?" She admonished mournfully. "You had us worried again you little tinker. Phil sends his regards. There was no point us both coming down again when we knew you were going to be okay."

They caught up. Which didn't take long, given they kept in contact via Skype and Facebook. Mel would be heading back shortly. Safe in the knowledge that someone was there to look after her little sister. Steph's overtired brain was far too confused to question that. Normally she'd have asked who the hell Mel was on about. It was only that evening, after a nap, she even thought about it. Steph didn't know anyone. Maybe she'd been assigned a carer or district nurse. The answer to this question and a few more might have just turned up. There was a knock on the open door to her room. Taz stood there, holding a bunch of flowers. Lilies were her favorite, how did she know that?

"Are you in a better mood now? Am I safe to come in? More importantly is it okay if I do?" The young girl twitched looked back over her shoulder angrily.
Turning back to Steph, she was all smiles as she stepped forward.
"I'm so sorry. I was an absolute bitch. All it took was brain surgery to sort it out though."
Another hug. Mel had hugged her, it wasn't as good as this one though. As Taz arranged the bouquet, Steph noticed her book on the side table. "Sunrise. Sunset" lay there with a book mark inserted well over three quarters of the way through. Was it too big a leap to deduce it had been read to her by that guardian angel the nurse was on about?
"I hope you don't mind." Taz opened as she took a seat. "But we did some unpacking for you. There was no way you were going to be able to cope with that on your own."
"We?" Steph inquired with genuine innocence.
Still admiring those flowers, she missed the worried glance the girl gave the still open door.
"Me and a couple of friends took care of it." Her phone vibrated, she checked it. "Oh... I've just remembered the internet has been sorted and some.... rearrangement of your flat has been made. You'll notice when you get there." She glanced down at her phone again. "Is it alright if John and I pick you up when you're released?"
Steph sighed.
"Look, I had a really bad experience with my former fiance. I've got major trust issues as far as men are concerned. Some of which are my fault, though it pains me to admit it. I'm not going into the embarrassing personal details of the situation. As long as he doesn't drug or rape me, things should be fine."
Those wonderful eyebrows arched above a mildly disapproving expression. Taz brought up her phone.
"Right. I'll just let him know." She pretended to compose a text, speaking the contents out loud. "The crazy lady insists you don't drug or rape her when you take her home." To Steph's surprise the smartphone vibrated moments later. Taz looked at it. "John says in that case you'll have to walk."