Saturday, 6 April 2013

St Georges.


3 Feb 2009.

The ambulance had stopped and the driver was talking to me. I had been forced out of that happy place, it all seemed so real as if it was all actually real, all actually happening, but I was strapped to the stretcher again in the back of the ambulance. The pain slowly coming back, little by little the burning nerves were being woken up, the fires had reignited in my shoulders and arms, was this a good thing, I felt nothing in my legs.

He was telling me he had to stop on the highway and I had to change to an ambulance from Port Elizabeth as this was as far as he was allowed to drive. It did not take long for the new ambulance from St Georges hospital to arrive and on the off ramp to Van Stadens Pass half way to Port Elizabeth on the N2 highway, I was transferred to the new ambulance.

Of course I tried my hardest to get the new driver to give me another little jab of pethidine. I so wanted to forget what was really going on and go back to where I had just come from. I was having such a good time, it felt so real. I shut my eyes, gritted my teeth and knew deep down inside I would have to get through the next 3 hours. It was always the same, the first hour is heaven, the second hour is bearable, the third hour the pain becomes all consuming the last hour is hell. I knew they would be long hours, every second taking forever.

Thank goodness at that moment I did not know just how long they actually would become, because when the pain strikes back so do the bad memories.

Van Staadens Bridge, Pic Zelda.


4 comments:

  1. MR. WRITER SIGA CON EL CAFE, QUE LOS DONUTS LE VAN A PICAR LOS DIENTES.
    LIBRO MUY, MUY BUENO, PRESTANOS LA MOTO
    POR FAVOOOOOR.........QUE VAMOS A CABAÑAS POR LA TARDE EN ELLA

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. La Moto, ya lo vendio, para comprar el Range Rover !!!

      Delete
  2. highway to hell

    ReplyDelete