Coma

Jackie looked at her patient, the older gentlemen. The man had been at the hospital for a greater time than she had been a nurse. Jackie thought of when she first had been assigned him. Family members would be all around. Flowers flourished as gifts that friends came to water. Get well cards from his coworkers. Now there was no one, the air was stale, and only medical devices remained.

Today was a solemn day. Jackie had retired and she would never see him again because she was moving to the other side of the country. Jackie would be his last visitor. His last family member had died from an abrupt heart attack a few days ago. He had been in the coma for 45 years. For how many more, no doctor knew. This man was stubborn. It was time to say her goodbye. Jackie got up from her chair, walked over to the hospital bed, and laid her hand onto his shoulder.

To her surprise, the man stirred, and eventually grumbled, “Where am I?”