Easy As Fading Away
by Angharad.( >^^< is out clubbing.)
part 377.

I vaguely remember being poked about, and being lifted and moved around. I think I even watched it at one point, having an out of body experience or should that be, an out of mind experience? All the endorphins and enkephalins floating around my dying brain might have been the cause. No tunnel of light, no pain, just a floating sensation in a darkness that I found neither frightening nor unfriendly.

I think I heard voices - well, they say hearing is the last sense to go. I'm not sure of anything - until the pain. I seemed to be aware of the burning in my chest, deep inside me. It felt as if I'd been hit by something radioactive which had buried itself deep inside me and was boiling my insides to mush.

I think I must have groaned, because I felt almost instant attention, although I had no real idea of time. I heard Simon's voice and I felt happy, I think I may even have wept. A familiar voice in a sea of nothing.

My body still felt a bit detached from me, sensations were rather fuzzy but I think he squeezed my hand, and I think he kissed my forehead.

"Oh, Cathy, you've come back to us." He said sounding like a pathetic Heathcliff.

I could hear the beeping of machines, where the hell was I? My head felt like mushie peas that had been left to ferment and intoxicate themselves. The beeping was regular, some sort of clock?

What was Simon on about? Come back? I haven't been anywhere, have I? Must have forgotten. Maybe I've been up to Bristol, I don't know, I can't remember it if I did.

As my senses came back to life, the pain increased and I groaned again, "It hurts," I think I said, not really sure. Sounds like me, whingeing.

"Don't ever leave me again, Babes, I couldn't bear it." I felt him grip my hand in both of his. There was something sticking in the back of it - what's the matter with him, can't he see it? And that bloody beeping, what the bloody hell is it?

I tried to open an eye. It felt all stuck together, my eyelids, I mean. I tried to move my other arm, but it had something stuck on the back of it too. What is going on?

"Simon," I said weakly, "Where am I?"

"You're in hospital, Babes, you had another bleed in your lung."

"What's bleeping? It's driving me nuts, I can't sleep for it." I don't know how much of this I actually verbalised, maybe none of it, I felt so incredibly tired. I think I fell asleep, I don't really know.

The pain was still there but easier. I could feel someone holding my hand. "Drink," I croaked. I felt a straw being pushed into my lips and I sucked some cool water into my mouth and swallowed it very carefully. "Thanks," I said a little easier. The straw was removed.

"How do you feel?" asked a familiar voice.

"Shit," I said.

"Can you open your eyes?" asked a different voice, a woman's.

"Why?" I asked, not wanting to make the effort.

"Please, for me."

"Who...you?" I missed out a word somewhere, I think.

"Dr Crabbtree, you're in Intensive Care and you've been very ill. You've had your eyes closed for several days, I need to see if you can open them. Will you please open them for me?"

"Oh duck!" I said, wondering why I was talking about birds. "Stuck," I said, maybe that was what I said the first time?

"Hang on, I'm going to bathe them in some warm water for you." I felt something wet being rubbed around and over my eyelids. Then something drying them, very gently. "Please try again."

They opened slightly and the light was so intense it hurt. I closed them.

"Hold on, I'm switching the lights off, please try again."

I opened them again and everything was blurry. It took me several seconds to focus and it wasn't as clear as usual.

"Hello, Darling," said Simon, I think he was smiling.

"What am I doing in here?"

"Your lung started to bleed again."

"Again?"

"Don't you remember being stabbed?"

"Sort of."

"You've been very ill and your memory will probably sharpen as you get stronger." The doctor was a young woman, barely older than I was.

"Thank you," I said to her.

"What for, I haven't done anything?"

"You bathed my eyes, didn't you?"

"Yes I did." She smiled. "However, the one you've got to thank is Dr Kelly, he sat up all night with you a week ago, draining off your lung."

"Stella's friend?"

"I think so, but I'm not entirely sure," she sounded a little embarrassed.

"That's the one," said Simon.

"I must thank him," I said very quietly.

"I have a feeling Stella did that for you, if he wasn't too tired." Simon smirked, which was just as well because my brain wasn't quick enough to pick up on the innuendo without help.

"Oh!" I think I squeaked and felt a wave of fatigue roll over me like an Atlantic swell.

Simon or Stella were there every day waiting for me to wake and drop off while they were saying things to me. If Simon was in a good mood, he'd read me bits from Cycling Weekly. He avoided Dr Hutch, as I laughed and my ribs hurt. I had a feeling that was an older injury, but my mind was still fuzzy.

Tom came in to see me and to tell me he was away for a few days to see his sister in Scotland. I was still in hospital when he came back, although no longer in intensive care.

"You look better today," said Simon.

"I feel quite a bit better. How long have I been here?"

"Nearly a month. The TdF starts soon."

"You're joking?"

"I'm not, here look at the comic." I took the Cycling Weekly from his hand and looked at the date, it was the middle of June. I gasped.

"I've lost a month of my life," I said in horror.

"You very nearly lost far more than a month." Simon took the magazine from my trembling hand, "And I nearly lost everything."