Prologue
The water beneath me was warm and comforting, suspending my body as I floated. It felt safe, like home. It held the weight of my body, allowing it to rest after its long journey. There was a slight thrill of never knowing if someone was going to come and push me under.
I had a vision of myself, years earlier as a child, running down the path connecting my grandmother’s house with the little lagoon that we used to play in. My cousins chased after me, their footsteps light and their laughs loud, and together we dove into the familiar waters where we swam until the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky pink.
The sun burned behind my closed eyelids, and I tried to open them, but they felt too heavy. I could no longer hear the bird songs of the summer. Instead; foreign, muffled sounds pierced my subconscious, fading into the scene, disrupting my peace. The sweet sound of water melted away and it was replaced with hushed voices and ticking noises. The earthy smell of the lagoon turned to the sterile smell of disinfectant.
A tugging sensation manifested in my chest, and soon it turned to a dull ache, as if my body had been stretched and maneuvered past its capacity. Starting at my fingertips and spreading through my entirety, I began to feel as if a thousand tiny needles pricked my body, like the way that static looked on a television. The pain in my chest gave way to a burning feeling, as if someone had lit a match against it.
I was stuck in some strange limbo. Wandering through memories that were drugged with a dreamlike quality. They say when you die, your life flashes in front of your eyes, and in that moment I was not sure if that was what it was. It came in bits and pieces like shattering glass shards. A warm hand intertwined with mine, a comforting gesture that I did not get to enjoy because of its fleeting nature. It was dark and the headlights appeared out of nowhere and I was jolted awake.
At last, I gained my sight and my eyes flew open. It was like taking a deep breath after resurfacing from a body of water. The fluorescent white lights stared back at me from the plain white tiled ceiling. The room itself had a blue hue to it that made my eyes ache. There were multiple machines in the room, along with wires and tubes that connected them to me. I wanted them gone--I wanted to pull them way, but I couldn’t. My wrists were held in place by something.
I shut my eyes again, trying to reimagine myself in the lagoon, floating in the water. I want to go back. But it was gone now. I heard the steady beeping of the heart monitor beside me and rushed words over a P.A. system. I opened my eyes again, and ever so slightly turned my head to look at the monitor. The line moved up and down steadily for the first time in what felt like forever. No more irregular arrhythmias, no more strained heartbeat--now each healthy beat rang through my body like a siren.
I was alive. The surgery worked. The heart worked.
I moved my eyes to try and get a look at my chest. All that I could see from my position on my back was the top of the sutures that travelled from just beneath my neck to further down my body, but I couldn’t see the end. The wound was covered in a plastic-like bandage that allowed me to see the angry red skin that had been pulled tight and taut together. I felt like I was breathing through a straw, and it made me panic.
Emotion overcame me and tears filled my eyes. I was in a daze--I felt a feeling of rejuvenation and power. Different emotions fought each other for my attention as I rested my eyes once more.
Someone saved my life. Someone died so that I could live.
