I dreamt that I was lying down. I wasn’t sure what I was lying on. It was also initially dark. Which meant my eyes were closed. I can tell my eyes were moving. REM. Images of eyes, streaks of fluorescent lines, dotted lines, spots, blurred faces, and nothing but static. I can tell that my breathing was ok and my heartbeat pulsating normally, I guess. Then there is a moment of silence. Through my eyelids, I can tell that there was light above my face but I didn’t open eyes just yet. The light actually warmed up my face and it felt very comfortable. Pondering a little more, the warm feeling was only on face and nowhere else on my body. I can move my fingers and I tapped them but the surface I was lying on felt cold to the touch. It felt metallic and it had a low bass echo sound when I tapped my fingers. I was able to move my legs and feet, too. My calves and my feet felt the coldness as well. Cool air encircled my feet as I wiggled it couple more times just to be sure. I wondered where was I? How did I get here? Why I can’t open my eyes just yet? How come I can see a brilliant light through my eyelids but I won’t open my eyes and see what’s out there? I’m not paralyzed am I? Can’t be, I can still move my legs and arms. What if I opened my eyes? Will I like what I see? Would I be better off not knowing? There’s no darkness that I can see; at least I don’t think there is.
[3]…[2]…[1]…I opened my eyes.
The light shone upon me was brighter than I thought. I had to literally block the light off with my left hand. Now I got this small circle white spot in front of eyes and I had to close my eyes again to recover from it. As I open them again while looking away from the bright light as I got up sitting on the table. I’m in a hospital. All the machines around me were off. A crash cart. A portable chest tray. A breathing apparatus, which meant I got bagged and had respiratory failure. There were empty liters of plastic bags that contained blood type O negative. On the floor were used plastic gloves and were turned inside out, some half, some fully. And no person in sight. No doctors. No nurses. No orderlies. No other patients. Just me. I noticed that I’m wearing a hospital gown. No wonder I felt cold. It felt like I was in a meat locker and the temperature was set on the lowest setting. Then I got off the cold hard metal slab that I was lying on. The floor was freezing and my feet flinched one after the other trying to get used to the cold felt ground. At the end of the table I found my patient’s chart. They put my name as John Doe. John Doe? Didn’t I have my wallet with me? It has, of course, my CA driver’s license, a small laminated card stating my emergency contacts, cash I recently got from the atm, credit cards, pictures of my family and friends, and my Blue Cross medical card. HMO or PPO, I forgot. Yet they don’t know my name. That troubled me to a certain degree. Even I didn’t remember what my name is.
I looked at the two doors with windows on it and I noticed there was a low-lit hallway. So I decided to leave. Just before I pushed the two doors, I looked up. I was in Trauma Room #2. One of the doors creaked as I opened them. I’m at the center of a T-section hallway. I can go forward. I can proceed to the east wing. Or I can walk to the west wing. I went forward and I walked on. As I walked on, the hallway seemed to get longer with each step I take. With each step forward, the hallway got even twenty feet farther. My heart is now pounding. I’m troubled again. Where am I going? Where is this hallway leading? Am I going the right way? I should’ve went to the west wing. Maybe the east wing. I’m confused. Still I went on to the endless corridor. Looking at the top of each, Examination Room 25. Examination Room 35. Examination Room 50, and so on. All the doors were locked to get into. No lights coming under the doors to see if there are any other patients in them.
Before I knew it, I came to a corner. There was a directory but there was one doctor’s name on it with no room this doctor was located at. I didn’t pay attention to the name on it. I’ve only noticed the MD at the end of it. So I turned at the corner. From the distance, I can tell there was a light coming from one of the rooms and the door was wide open. I picked up the pace as my curiosity rose to the point of anticipation. As I got closer I can hear that there were voices coming from the room. Even I can hear the sounds that came from the machines in there. As I got closer, the voices got clearer and I can make out what they’re saying. About ten feet away from the door, I stopped and I leaned on the wall tentatively listening to the conversation. It startled me what I heard.
“Doctor…pupils non responsive and dilated…doctor…”
“Don’t interrupt me.”
“Breathe dammit!”
“Call it doctor…”
[his breathing was heavy and to the point of exhaustion as he stopped counting giving CPR]
The voices stopped also and I can only hear is the constant sound, which meant the person in there was flatline.
“Time of death: 11:59”
Then I heard the monitor being shut off and there was silence again. Dead silence. I literally waited for everybody in there to come out but no one did. So I made my way to the door one step at a time. I stopped a couple feet away from the door. Holding the wall and on one leg, I leaned over and peered into the room with only my head. There was nobody there. Strange. But the only person there is was the person who died minutes ago. Since there is nobody else there, I went in. The person on the table with the cover over the person, I felt like I knew this person. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if knew this person. But there was something pulling me and I couldn’t resist but look under the sheet that was covering this person’s face. Then I slowly pulled the cover revealing this person’s hair, the forehead, and…his face. This person’s face was strikingly familiar. Who is this person? My God. From the reflection on one of the windows in the room I saw my face. I found out that this person was me. I stared at my reflection for the longest time and my heart sunk. When I looked down at the table again, the person there was gone. It was me all along.
