Nothing....Nothing....Then....
Sense..A Sense..A Sense of Nothing.
Consciousness. . Conscious of Nothing..Aware of the Nothing..
Dark. The Nothing is Dark..A Thought..
He Thought the Nothing was Dark.
He Was.. He Was Again.. He Was in the Dark.

"Eyes", He Thought. "I have Eyes. I Feel my Eyes. My Eyes are closed. If I open my Eyes, maybe it won't be Dark."

He concentrated on his eyes. He wanted to open them. It was all he wanted. It took Time... It took All Time... Then..

.BRIGHT LIGHTS!!!
SHUT THEM!!! SHUT THEM!!
Too late..

Someone saw..
Sounds..Noises.. Voices... All came rushing in.


"He's coming round." "He's waking up." "He's.. he's back with us." "Mr. Hughes? Can you hear me? Mr. Hughes?"

He was back.
And the nurses around him were busy moving machines and taking out tubes.
"Nod your head if you can understand me, OK Mr. Hughes?"
He nodded.
"Good. Good. Don't try to talk. We're gonna have to take out the breathing tube first."
They drifted in and out of his field of vision. Always smiling. Competent. Efficient. Capable.
He tried to think. To remember. All he could find was that early in the morning (Today's? Yesterday's?) they came in and said they had a donor. The rest was a blur of activity until he was taken to the prep room, then...Nothing.

Until now. Now they were taking the breathing tube out. He was breathing on his own. The nurses like that. He liked that the nurses liked that.

They took him to a room. They were still doing things to him. He saw his family. They were crying, but happy. He liked that they were happy. But..

He needed to think. To remember. To know why he was here.

Here was obviously a hospital. He guessed that he'd had an operation. But what?
"We're gonna leave you alone for a while now, Mr. Hughes, but you're in the CIC and the duty nurses will monitor you from the desk and can check on you through the door window. Get some rest."
They all left. He was alone. He liked that he was alone.

He closed his eyes. It came to him slowly........

His heart. His heart was giving out on him. It had come on quickly. Diagnosed in July, he had been admitted to the hospital in late October and put on the transplant list on November 18th.
November! It was November. And today was Monday.. or Tuesday? The 24th or 25th.
They'd had a donor in the morning so that must mean that he'd had the transplant. He had a new heart. He felt himself smile. He liked that he smiled..that he had a new heart..that he remembered. That he was HE, again.

He rested. The nurses came back. They got him out of the bed and into a chair. They gave him food - some kind of broth, decaf coffee. It was good.

His family came back. They talked a little. Mostly they just sat and nodded and smiled. He did, too. It made him happy.

Everyone left. He slept. Then the phone rang.

The phone was on the wall to the right of the bed. It was pretty insistent, for a phone.
It was a struggle, but he reached it. His daughter had called the desk to check on him, and they put her through. He liked that she'd called and he could talk to her, even if it was a struggle to hang up the phone after.

"Pretty impressive."
Someone spoke. From near the foot of the bed.
"Who..who's there?" He could just make out a figure there - a man dressed in scrubs, with a white jacket and one of those surgical caps.
"Sorry if I startled you, Mr. Hughes. It's just me...Jesse. Just wanted to see how you're doing."
"Jesse? I don't remember any Jesse. Were you on the surgical team? I didn't get to meet them, I think."
"No. Not part of the regular team, but I was there. And I'm impressed by how you got on the phone. Looks like you're doing pretty good."
"Thanks...Still tired....A little confused. Maybe you could help fill in some of the details."
"Not right now, Mr. Hughes. You need you rest. Just get some sleep. I'll be back before you leave."

Tim Hughes shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep.