| As I am sleeping...
I heard someone say that I am in a coma. It doesn't feel real. The noise here is unlike anything I have ever known. There seems to be activity all around me, but I cannot move, cannot open my eyes. There are bits and pieces of memory. Fragments. Fragments of thoughts, and sound, and sensation. I just woke up again, but still can't move, or let anyone know that I can hear. My body won't move and my eyes still won't open. For some reason I cannot stay awake.... if this is awake. I am drifting as though on an ocean. I drift within sight of shore but can't reach the shore, or make myself heard. No one sees that I am here. The tides carry me away again and blackness envelopes me, and I feel nothing. When you come to see me please talk to me. Please tell me something familiar. I need something familiar to hold on to. I need your touch and contact with you, even if I can't respond. I need a connection with sounds, talk, and voices that are familiar to me. Stephanie, Brain Injury Survivor copyright � 1997 |
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| This is a copy of the poem that is hanging on Thomas' wall. |