06.37am...a time I try to avoid as best as I can, but a time that will now be etched on memory for ever. Personally, I find any time starting with 06 or less, to be quite vulgar. I am not a fan.
It was late December 2009. I woke up with a strange feeling...that of feeling as if I had bypassed the first two hours of the day. I sat bolt upright, feeling alert, bright, and most of all - awake. I looked at my clock to see the time - it was 06.37. I can't remember now if this was a working day or not - an occupational hazard of shift work. I looked over to see Lydia asleep, and set about sneaking out, so not to disturb her. This was strange for me. It was rare that I should wake up without the assistance of an alarm clock, even more so that I would wake up first. And to wake up feeling so alert? I was a little perplexed. I left the room and watched the television quietly in the next room. A small amount of time passed before I went back to the bedroom. As I went in, Lydia stirred. She asked me if I was alright, and I tried to answer. I say "tried", because when I formulated the words in my head, gibberish came out of my mouth. I knew what I was trying to say, but what came out was if I were speaking in tongues. Pure nonsense. I was scared. I tried to form the words again - this time, I managed first word, but failed with the rest. I gestured that I wanted to go back to sleep. Lydia's expression echoed my own thoughts - something was badly wrong. It was with this that a sensation came over me that I can scarcely describe. It was a headache, but not like anything I've felt before. It wasn't a migraine, and it wasn't like a blow to the head. It didn't feel like any headache I'd experienced before. The only way I can describe it is to imagine someone placing a vice over your brain, tightening it, and then tightening it some more. The pain was excruciating. It didn't matter what I did, I couldn't make it go away. Lydia was in a state of panic, and I was scared. I'd never experienced pain like it, and couldn't understand why it was happening. I hadn't been drinking the night before, I hadn't eaten anything different, or done anything different to my knowledge. I collapsed on the bed, and buried my head in the pillow. I grasped at my head in pain and desperation, writhing with pain. With that, I passed out. One of my last memories before losing consciousness, was hearing Lydia on the phone to the doctor's surgery. She spoke to me in a brief moment of consciousness, and handed me a double dose of both paracetamol and ibuprofen on the instructions of the doctor. I woke up again a couple of hours later. The headache had gone. I felt no after effects, no pain, no residue of the agony I had been in. My speech had returned to normal. Only fear about what had happened remained. But what was it?
No comments:
Post a Comment