Feel Familiar?

That intake of breath was a potentially hopeful sound for me. It may be that I would now be told some 'tragic' (yet schoolyard attention-getting) news (as I had hoped, since losing the spiders for my presentation), about the real depth of my injuries. Something more insightful than "... A few scratches and bruises", as my mother (and the laughing nurse) had inferred. I lay there keenly listening in quiet sufferance. Then, the doctor uttered a sad comment of, "Oh dear." Followed by a slightly drawn out pause. It's okay I thought doctor. I can take it. My mother leaned in slightly, I felt her presence. "What is it?" She asked. Concern had edged it's way into her voice. Ha! I thought...... And you were laughing at me. The doctor's voice sounded full of concern as he waved the torch light back and forth across my face. "It looks like.... ", He began slowly. "My torch is going flat." He finished.

Now I exhaled, having been holding my breath. "Oh, is that all." My mother exclaimed as she took a step back. "I thought you were going to say you could see some serious damage", She continued. "Oh, no". The doctor exclaimed. "Don't  be ridiculous (yes, great bedside manner here), he only appears to have a few cuts and scrapes, is all?" My edge disappeared as well. "But we had best get him x-rayed. Just to make sure." The doctor continued. I meanwhile, in pain and physically affected from the crash, was filled with a certain amount of mental doubt for this doctor and his skills. I knew where I hurt. He had simply waved a low powered, and battery-flattened torch, over my features and passed what he thought was a viable opinion. No wonder people always suggested second opinions. I was sure there was more to the injuries than he was saying. No doubt as soon as I was trundled off to the X-Ray department, he would converse in a more serious and in very real terms with my mother. About the genuine nature and the true extent of my injuries. Perhaps his bedside manner was so good, he didn't wish to concern or upset the young patient. After all low stress is very important to the healing properties of a victims physical body.

So I was trundled down to the X-ray section, which was in the central area of the building. The large darkened and dimly lit room with the space like appearance of a giant microscope and table, upon which I would lain, or under which the bed I was on would be positioned. The large white oversized arm with the targeting sight would be moved to the areas of concern. I had been here before and was well aware of the process. This time I lay on the bed. Unmoved by the doctors analysis and waiting to be moved by the technician. I must have actually been here for the same technician before, or at least they recognised me, as they put the bed into position and he commented, "Oh, it's him".

(Continued tomorrow)