French hospital

L'hôpital

Serena staggered to her feet and tried to focus on her predicament. She was now resigned to being carted off to hospital. Automatically she placed the necessary medical card and her mobile in her bag and glanced out of the window. Still no sign of an ambulance. She couldn't remember what she had said, it was a complete blank to her as the fuzziness in her head continued and her body started to float dreamily. Was she in the middle of a heart attack, a stroke, or a complete mental breakdown? Yet part of her was beyond caring; she simply wanted rest and peace.
Finally, the ambulance crew arrived alongside Sebastian who had sprinted over, his handsome young face etched with concern as he stood over her. Her blood pressure was taken whilst they spoke rapidly amongst themselves. Serena wondered if she had been over dramatic, perhaps she should have tried the deep breathing again, and remained lying down. Once it was ascertained that she was a full-time resident in France, and that the required paperwork was in order she was helped down the wide central stone stairway the served the whole house. As she did so she felt her problems float away from her and lie discarded on those ancient dusty steps.
None of her neighbours were visible for which Serena was grateful. She was still wearing the garish yellow t-shirt which had only a few hours previously elicited a whistle of admiration as she had cycled to the boulangerie. Carcassonne was hosting the start of the Tour de France. A damp squib if ever there was one, she had thought at the time. Hours of pre-race excitement, car salesmen bellowing into microphones, men dressed up as clowns and people holding up their phones excitedly ready to catch the action as it whizzed by. It all seemed a lot of fuss over nothing very much - or maybe that was a reflection of how she was feeling about life in general. An awful lot of effort for very little return.
Arriving at the hospital Serena was placed in a small room in the accident and emergency department. Other people looking seriously depressed at the long wait for treatment stared morosely at their feet whilst grossly overweight women in clingy lurid clothing gesticulated irritably into their mobile phones to which they appeared to be attached. Serena found herself lying next to an elderly woman who was gently moaning and attached to a heart monitor. Her phone kept 'pinging' informing her of incoming messages which she ignored. Taking a 'selfie' she then had the disturbing thought that, should she die, the very last image of her would be grotesque.
'Your mother was one sick woman' the doctors would tell her children and shake their heads sadly. Evelyn would be horrified that she could contemplate such a thing without applying lipstick,yet Serena felt too exhausted to care - or delete the image. Serena supposed that in the great scheme of life itself her current mental state would be deemed unstable. 'Years of drug abuse' Randolph would have sneered, as if a few clumsily rolled joints constituted a serious drug problem.
Her friends and children had gathered round, stroking her hand and cradling her head whilst telling her they loved her. Evelyn had emailed that it was just 'one more hurdle' in her life and that she would overcome it because she was ultimately strong. Serena wasn't sure anymore. Her confidence in her essential resilience had been sorely knocked, but she allowed herself to gently drift into unconsciousness.
Finding herself in hospital was a tremendous shock to Serena. But there were compensations. The ungainly and ugly gown felt oddly wanton and luxurious as she basked in the sudden peace. The pressure had all eased; the multi coloured horses hurtling round and round had stopped. The loud music had ceased and she could calmly dismount.
Tentatively Serena put her foot down to the utilitarian flooring beneath her. Her gown rode up over her shaky knees and slipped down over her shoulder but the movement hardly registered. Her hands seemed small and useless as she clumsily gripped the sides of the metal bed frame lest she should topple forwards. All her anxieties, all her recent nightmares disintegrated. She knew then, as she would feel even more acutely later, that someone who cared very much indeed was watching over her. She gave silent and grateful thanks to the unknown spirit.
The handsome doctors who then swept in were kind but firm and to the point. 'You have had a stroke' they informed her. She assured them that there must be some mistake but deep down where the truth cannot hide and refuses to be silenced, she had to accept their diagnosis, Serena felt as though she had been tossed ashore and discarded after a ferocious storm at sea, days and nights blurring as she battled her perilous waves that threatened to engulf her. In the past, she had tried to save others from the consequences of their own actions, but in the end, she had needed to break away. For she knew they would try and pull her back into the dark depths and crevices from which there was no escape. There are places where no light will ever penetrate, and she did not intend to go there. Serena was a survivor and she would not drown and join the unhappy chorus of lost souls.
An inexplicable and mysterious transformation was taking place inside her. It was the stirring of her soul, her future life, happiness, fulfilment and contentment which were finally set on a new course.
Without knocking an overweight and unusually unpleasant hospital administrator entered her room and stared at her maliciously. 'Your medical insurance hasn't been paid' she baldly stated. Serena's reverie was broken. The thought of being presented with a bill running into thousands horrified her. She could clearly remember writing out the cheque and posting it, if not quite on time. She told the surly woman so. 'Nothing wrong with your brain then' the woman grunted. 'We'll have to check our records.'
Serena reflected that whether she liked it or not, painful memories needed to be relived, so that she could finally break free of them.


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