Shoes

The last thing I heard was the conversation between the doctor and the nurse on how nasty the throat-numbing spray tastes. I saw the nurse lubricating the scope that was to make a trip to my stomach and duodenum. I felt the dull pain and pressure at the back of my hand where the sedative was going into my vein...

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. It was in my bag, tucked neatly right beside my chest. It stopped before I could get to it. I was lying on my side, as I was before I lost consciousness, and had an extra blanket plus my jacket over me. I tried to remember what happened. I couldn't. I shifted my body and tried to get up but failed. I felt so weak and gosh, my hand with the IV needle still in it really hurt. All I could manage was turning my head to take a look around the ward. I caught a glimpse of my water tumbler on a nearby desk. I wondered where my shoes were. I rummaged through my bag and found my phone. Three missed calls and an SMS. My eyelids were heavy, they were closing and I fell back asleep.

Again, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. This time, I managed to answer it. No, I don't even remember what the conversation was about... most probably like - how are you, I'm OK, how did the procedure go, I don't know I was knocked completely out, etc. I garnered enough strength to turn in the bed and looked at the floor. My shoes weren't there.

A nurse noticed that I've woke and came to check on me. She asked if I would like some food, as I'd been fasting for what must've been about 14 hours then. I said yes, and I tried to sit up. She gently stopped me and told me she would serve me. I didn't have time to tell her that I wasn't getting up to get food - I just wanted to look for my shoes. She returned in a few minutes with a steaming hot drink and sandwiches. I thanked her, and shamelessly wailed that I can't find my shoes.

"They here, they're here..." she assured me, pointing to a little compartment under the bed. They've been placed nicely in it, out of my view. Ahhh, I was happy again.

Now, in retrospect, I feel like an idiot - I awoke from a diagnostic procedure not wanting to know how it went, or when I would know the result, or where my doctor was and when I could speak with him, or how soon I could go home... but where my shoes were.

That is what's wrong with me.