Waking Up in a Deep Fog; Chapter 2; Coco's Journey

by Larry Puls @larrypulsauthor

The fictional but poignant journey of Courageous Courtney (Coco) Vin and her road through ovarian cancer from start to finish, from good to bad (and maybe back to good again). No one knows the outcome yet. Not even me. A story designed to be interactive--assuming you supply me with questions and thoughts that you want me to build into her life.

Enjoy! Happy Valentine's Day.

Waking from a Fog, Anesthesia

I hear my name called, but I don’t recognize the voice. There it is again. I open my eyes and before me is a face. Unfamiliar. Everything seems blurry. There is a mask. Why are they saying my name?  

Suddenly, my belly twinges. And then a whisper is heard. Saying what? The fog surrounding must be blocking my hearing. I think I am lost. But miraculously, my surroundings slowly but certainly clear a touch. A small sense of familiarity arises. I know this place. Wasn't I just here?

Minutes pass. Unexpectedly, more pain in my stomach. My head starts spinning this time. I close my eyes. But then the bells and whistles start and more unfamiliar voices. I hear my name again. My eyes spring open. Someone is looking down at me.

What’s that? A hand shaking me. Why? They are telling me to breathe. Am I not breathing? Suddenly like cold water on my face, my memory stirs and a sense of deja vu awakens. Aren't I having surgery? Maybe I'm getting getting ready for that and this will all be over soon. 

I hear something familiar. Is that my husband? I will ask him when are they going to operate. No one else will talk to me. On asking him, he tells me the surgery is over too. Is that possible? His calm words say yes, though I remain the eternal skeptic.

Arriving in some new room, the world evolves into a space that makes more sense. There are IV poles, family I know, and some nurse—though for the life of me I cannot remember her name. The pain in my belly ramps up. I am definitely more awake--and alive. I guess I should be thankful for that. Looking out the window, I see the sun has gone down now. Perhaps it is night. Maybe I should just go to sleep. 

The supposed night remains a mystery. I only remember someone coming in and placing something on my arm and squeezing. And they keep insisting I take deep breaths. I wish they would stop that. I look over and there is Mike soundly asleep. How can my husband close his eyes right now?

Before I know it, the sun is bursting into my window. It is certainly the next day. My mind is emerging from the fog. I recognize where I am when an important thought pops into my mind. What did they find at surgery? Or do I want to know that? Maybe I don't really want to know all the answers right now. Let's let surgery remain a mystery. 

Ten minutes later, the door opens and in walks a group of doctors. I guess surgery can't remain a mystery forever. There, in the middle of the entourage is a man I know--my surgeon. A cold shiver passes through me.

And after a minute he utters the word—cancer. Confusion and fear sweep through me. Nothing else registers. I can only look over at my Mike, hoping that he can make all of this just go away.

Please follow Coco Vin through her eyes.    

Write to me about questions you have that I might bring into her saga.

Waking Up in a Deep Fog, Larry Puls, (Click to Tweet)