Light leaked in around the edges of the Venetian blind at the window on my left. The pale green room was in shadows, and the curtain around my bed had been pulled back; so that I could see the door which led out of my room into the hall. There was another bed in the room, but it was empty. I was alone, and it was quiet.
I really didn't feel like moving. I was content just to lie there looking at the world.
There was a quiet squeaking sound coming from the door that I guessed was someone entering. I shifted my eyes in that direction as it opened very, very slowly and a large figure entered.
The figure was wearing a light green scrub uniform and carried a pitcher of water.
I made out that it was a man, a very large man. Oh, of course, Hugo!
He walked over to the table next to my bed, exchanged pitchers, and turned to leave.
As he turned, he glanced over to the bed and looked at me. When he realized that my eyes were open, a broad smile played across his face, and he put his pitcher down and picked up a pad and pen from the bedside table.
He scribbled for a few moments. After a bit he held the pad in front of my face for me to read.
"You scare everybody Doctors worried You don't wake up for 2 weeks!!! I worried to. Hi! (And then there was a happy face drawn, with a big letter 'H' under it.")
I looked into Hugo's eyes. I wasn't sure that I was conveying anything at all, but I was feeling the strongest sense of love that I wished to send directly to his eyes.
I shook my head "yes" and kept my eyes fixed on his, this kind and beautiful man. I didn't want to frighten Hugo away. I wanted him to be with me, but I didn't know what to do to convey my wish.
He smiled again and shook his head "yes" in response to me. Then he rubbed his stomach in circles with one hand and grunted "huhh" "huhh" and pointed to his mouth.
Suddenly I felt that this was bordering on silly; I smiled a broad smile and shook my head "yes" once again... I managed to lift my hand and hold my thumb and forefinger very close together, shaking them to mean I wanted only "a very little bit" to eat. I hoped he understood me.
And when the message registered, Hugo also smiled broadly, stopping his silly-looking belly rubbing. He grasped my gesturing hand in both of his and nodded "yes", "yes" in reply... With that, he picked up the pitcher again and left the room.
I lay there somewhat helpless. I was not dizzy or feeling remote. I was just still very weak and with no special wishes except to be with Hugo and maybe to eat a little. I just lay there.
In no time, it seemed, something banged loudly on the door, and it opened as a nurse wheeled in a low cart that had a covered dish of food on it. There was an empty glass wrapped in waxed paper and a cup, both turned upside down on the cart too.
The nurse was smiling and talking as she moved: "So you've decided you've had enough sleep, have you? We were all taking bets on how long it would be," she said as she rolled a strange looking table over the top of my body.
And she went on, "Your friend, Hugo, was in here checking on you 20 times a day... I tell you he was not going to leave you alone. He even came in at night, when he was off work. You are a very lucky man--twice--Mr. Kevin Kramer. Once for surviving whatever it was you had and again for having a friend like Hugo."
"Well, do you want me to help you to sit up? I can move the bed until you are sitting with your back vertical ," she said, pausing to look at me for a reply.
I hadn't said a word so far. I wondered why anything mattered: sitting up, lying down; who cares, especially not me. I was alive and Hugo was near. That was enough for me. Other details seemed unimportant.
Then it occurred to me that maybe I'd lost my speech? Maybe I can't talk? "I really ought to try to say something," I considered.
"Yes. I'd like to sit up," I thought, and the words actually came out. So I hadn't lost my ability to speak, it seemed.
"Okay. I'll tilt the hydraulic bed," the nurse said as she reached for a control box at the end of the cream colored cable near my pillow.
The bed began to hiss and hum and move slowly until I was nearly in an upright position. "Maybe I COULD eat a little something now," I thought.
"How long do I have to stay here?" I asked.
"My goodness! You woke up 15 minutes ago after a two week coma and already you're talking about getting out of here. I guess you DID get enough rest; that's for sure," the nurse said as she fussed with the bed and the tables.
"Well, Mr. Kramer, the doctors will have a look at you, and you can discuss getting out with them. But I warn you, Mr. Kramer, they're not going to want to turn you lose until they are somewhat sure that you aren't still vulnerable to whatever knocked you out in the first place. They can't figure out what has been going on with you."
"I'm sure I'm not going to relapse," I replied in a matter of fact voice.
"And how can you be so sure?" the nurse asked with her head cocked and her arms crossed in front of her freshly starched white uniform.
"Because I know what happened to me."
"You do?!" she said incredulous.
"Yes," I said softly.
"How do you know? Were you experimenting with drugs?" she asked, her eyes narrow with suspicion.
"No. Of course not. I know because my grandfather told me."
"YOUR GRANDFATHER TOLD YOU!" the nurse said.
"Yes. He and I have been visiting. That's where I've been for the last two weeks."
"Humm? Visiting with your grandfather? We haven't allowed you to have visitors for the last two weeks, Mr. Kramer. You have been in a coma," the nurse announced with complete certainty and finality.
"Oh, I understand that," I said. "But papa came to me anyhow, and it was wonderful to see him again. He's been dead for 25 years."
The nurse clearly didn't appreciate what I'd just shared with her. She looked at me suspiciously and didn't respond to my honesty. It was clear that she didn't believe me at all, and that further, I had probably compromised my case for leaving promptly now that I was awake.
"So I'd just better leave my talks with papa out of all future conversations," I thought.
"Well, no doubt I dreamed of the visits," I added, attempting to rehabilitate my credibility if that were to be possible at all.
"No doubt," the nurse agreed with some relief in her voice. She was not comfortable with unconventional propositions in her tidy, sterile world.
She uncovered the plate which contained fresh, lightly steamed broccoli, and a salad of bean pods, and diced raw tomatoes and onions, and she poured olive oil dressing over it. A small cup of ginger-carrot soup sat steaming to one side. And I had a choice of hot green tea or cold almond milk.
"Who came up with this menu," I asked.
"Hugo," she answered. He's been hovering over everything we've done for you. He has no authority, of course, but he manages to sabotage the things he doesn't approve of, and he told the chef that you needed living food to help you heal... And this is what the kitchen came up with... "
"Well, I AM supposed to do things differently, I somehow recollect; so I suppose I might as well begin with what I eat..." And I did.
After a while, "This isn't half bad," I confided to the nurse who had been standing over me cautiously, as though perhaps I'd keel over with a heart attack at any instant.
"Well you could have Salisbury Steak, mashed potatoes, and cherry cobbler with whipped cream, if you'd like," the nurse suggested.
"No, thanks," I said.
"This will be fine. I'm feeling like I've eaten, but not heavy or overfed," I added.
In that moment a huge surge of gas took me quite by surprise, and I made an involuntary, socially inappropriate "statement" of my condition. "Uh. Well," I stammered, "I guess I'm not quite up to speed in the digestion department after my two week haitus... Please excuse me."
The nurse cleared her throat, more to hide her embarrassment than to deal with a post nasal drip; then she walked over to the window which she was able to open a few inches.
"Damn, raw onions do that to me every time," I thought.
The nurse moved the table away from my bed and prepared to roll the cart out. At that instant Hugo came through the door and, seeing the nurse rolling the cart away, relieved her of the task and took the cart out of the room.
The nurse then wanted to know whether I'd like to remain upright or whether I'd rather lay back. Actually I was feeling dreamy and super relaxed, though still amazingly exhausted. The supreme beauty of the place to which I'd gone during my "disappearance," I might call it, was filtering back through to the real world. I just wanted Hugo to come and talk with me.
After checking my pulse and taking my blood pressure the nurse said, "Well, I'll let you rest a bit, until the doctors arrive. I telephoned them an hour ago telling them that you had come out of your coma. They were eager to examine you and see how you are." With that the nurse smiled and mentioned that if I needed anything I could "buzz" her with the control box near my pillow. Then she left.
It was quite once again. I truly enjoyed the sense of peace embedded in the soundlessness. I didn't feel lonely, only without company for the moment.
I'm not sure how long I lay happily just being. Eventually a head poked through the doorway. It was Hugo.
With a big smile he entered the room and came to the bed where he leaned down and hugged me. "Hi" he said. That's one of the few words he spoke that I could actually understand. The rest was just a guessing game. But he did always seem to have a pad and pencil.
He went to the bedside table and picked up his pad and pen right away. He wrote quickly.
"I want to give you a backrub. OK???"
Then he thrust the pad in my face with a big smile.
I broke out into a huge smile too and moved my head in a slow, exaggerated up and down motion, leaving no doubt, I hoped, that I was more than happy with his offer.
He went back outside of the room and returned right away with another cart that contained several towels and a few bottles. I realized that Hugo's job must include assisting with bathing the male patients. He knew exactly how to roll me over onto my stomach, where he was able to untie the hospital gown and leave my backside uncovered.
He pulled the sheet up over my legs and buttocks, and placed his large, warm hands on my bare shoulders right at my neck. He squeezed the muscles firmly in pulsing succession. Next he swept both hands along my spine, from my neck to my lower back, then returned to my shoulders to administer more of his firm hand pressure. He moved down the sides of my back toward my waist; then he stopped at my hips and repeated the motions for a very long time. I was in the most extraordinary bliss.
The body is a wonderfully equipped medium for transmitting love.
Then, Hugo moved slowly away from me. He kissed my neck several times and tied the back of my gown in place again. He rolled me back over, looked into my eyes, and gently kissed my lips while moving me in the silence. With no sound, he clearly "spoke," "I love you, Kevin... I love you."
There was a soft knock at the door.
Hugo was busying himself folding his towels; so I said, "Come in..."