Thursday, September 5, 2019

What would it be like if you lost your past? Wandering around in your present state of existence makes no sense, so you search for answers.

 

But as hard as you try, it appears you won’t be able to find them. Therefore, you may be destined to live your life . . .

 

 

In the Company of Strangers

 

     “Good afternoon. My name is Oliver . . . Oliver, uh, Marsden. I have an appointment with Dr. Reeves at two thirty.” 

     “Yes, Mr. Marsden, I have it on my schedule. As a new patient, there are a couple of forms I need you to fill out before you see the doctor.” She handed me a clipboard with three sheets of paper. “When you’ve completed them, bring them back to me, along with your insurance card, so I can make a copy of it.”     

     “Thank you, Miss Gorman . . . ini. Is that the correct pronunciation?”

     “Why, yes. Thank you for asking.” She gave me a shy smile, her beautiful green eyes staring into mine.

     She blushed as she looked away, somewhat embarrassed. I left the reception counter and headed toward the seating area across the room to complete the paperwork. “Daisy Gormanini. Sounds Italian,” I whispered aloud. Nice smile. Not bad looking, I thought.

     I slumped onto a comfortable couch and began filling in the information requested on the forms. I stumbled over a number of items, drawing several mental blanks, as I tried to come up with the necessary answers. This made me quite anxious. Finishing what I could, I retuned to the front counter and handed the clipboard and my insurance card to Daisy.

     She scanned the forms; looking up at me a couple of times, as she reached the blanks I should’ve been able to fill in, but said nothing. Then she gave me the same shy smile again and sighed, “Please take a seat, Mr. Marsden. The doctor will see you soon.”

     I returned to my soft, plush sofa, picked up a copy of Sports Illustrated and began perusing the pages. I went through the motions of reading an article on professional wrestling, but had trouble getting into it. I couldn’t focus.

     It had been a long, hard couple of weeks since the car accident I had that made it difficult to keep my mind on track and remember things. My head was cluttered with confused thoughts—everything seemed to run together—all a jumble and very frustrating.

     Tossing my head back on the couch, I shook it back and forth, trying hard to clear away the cobwebs. I gritted my teeth, attempting to keep from screaming. “God, I’ve got to shake this idiotic crap out of my brain,” I whined in agony.

     I felt antsy. I moved my body first to the left and then the right. I slid down in my seat and then repositioned myself back into an upright and uptight position. My anxiety level overwhelmed me. “Dammit, when the hell is the shrink going see me,” I grumbled under my breath, and stared at his picture on the wall.

     My head began to ache. A sharp pain, like a needle being driven through my forehead, almost doubled me over. I clutched the sides of my skull with my hands to try to hold my world together. Everything seemed to be going to hell—my life falling apart.

     All of a sudden, my mind went blank. And then . . . I floated, floated away, off into the distance. My pain dissipated. I didn’t feel the intense anxiety anymore. Yellow, red, and purple flowers appeared below me. Birds, large blue ones, sang a melodious, comforting song. I drifted above this enchanting garden—a land of peace and tranquility, a place I had dreamed of, but had never visited.

     Voices, I hear voices, soft little voices. Are they calling me? 

     Barking. Why is that creature barking at me? It’s getting louder, almost out of control. I don’t know if I can handle this.

     Wait a minute. The barking has subsided. But the voices, those little voices. They’re squealing. Yelling. Becoming so irritating.

     Feeling uncomfortable, I tried to grab hold of something, but couldn’t find anything to grasp onto. I floated, dipped, and bobbed, adrift in a sea of confusion. “Oh, God, what’s happening to me?” I cried.

     With no warning, my world became calm again—quiet and serene. I wasn’t moving. Nothing, no nothing, was happening.

     Then an image appeared. I saw a woman, a beautiful woman, with long flaxen hair and the loveliest warm smile I’d ever seen. I screamed out to her, “Over here, I’m over here.” No response. Didn’t she hear me?

     She seemed preoccupied. Three little people happily cavorted at her feet. A furry, small dog chased its tail and yelped in excitement. Did I know her? Did I know them?

     They were strangers—all strangers. I began to sob. I wanted to make contact with them, but I had no way to gain their attention. Lost in a jungle of bewilderment, I couldn’t find my way out.

     Then, some external force prodded me to move on in my thoughts—make my way through the thick underbrush in my mind. But no, I wanted to stay here. It seemed so peaceful—a happy time. I needed to get to know these strangers.

     “No, no!” I shouted. I don’t want to go. But I began moving, floating again. Another stranger watched me, but I didn’t understand why? He urged me to calm down.

     My body shook. My mind raced. Then I heard words, his words.

     “Trust me. Breathe easy. Work with me.”

     “What? What are you asking? What do you want? Do I know you? Can you hear me?”

     “Yes, Oliver, I can hear you,” the voice spoke in a pleasant, comforting manner.

     “I’m not alone. Am I?” I muttered. But I still don’t know where I am. Yet I do feel more at ease—at least a little, I thought. Then I started to shake again.

     “Oliver, please relax. When I count to ten, you’ll be back in the room with me. You’ll wake up. You’ll remember everything you thought and said. You may not understand it, but we will address that later.”

     I heard his words, and no, I didn’t understand any of it.

     “One, two, three . . .” The numbers began to run together. “Ten.”

     I sat up in the recliner, cleared the dazed look from my eyes, and saw the gray-bearded man from the picture in the reception area standing over me. I was in Dr. Reeve’s office, but I didn’t know how I got here. The last thing I remembered was that I’d been in the waiting room. 

     “We’ve made great progress today, Oliver. I know you’re not sure, right now, what it all means, but you will be. It will take some time. Please be patient.”

     He took my quivering hand in his and continued. “The accident took its toll on you. The tremendous impact of hitting your head on the steering wheel injured your brain, burying your past in the depths of your mind.

     “You have a form of temporary amnesia, which can steal memories and, at times, friends and family. But through hypnosis, we have begun to make contact with your past—your wife and children. And, Oliver, I promise, soon you will no longer be ‘In the Company of Strangers.’”

 

 

Copyright © 2012 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

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