Her head hurt. She tried to lift her hand, but it felt as though it didn't belong to someone else. Slowly she opened her eyes and little by little everything came into view. As she was lying on her back she could only see the ceiling and it was STARING back at her! Or was it? No it was only a painting, a painting of a father holding his hand up as though giving a speech. And then she began to notice her surroundings. It was definitely a hospital ward, she tried to move a little to get a better view of the room but her back seared with pain. So she had to remain at this pitiful posture as she took in everything of the room.
The mattress was covered in plastic not so comfortable; in time the plastic had began to loose its texture and had formed wrinkles with hard ridges where the bed folds to go up and down. She could clearly hear the plastic as she moved in the bed. The pillows were also covered in plastic and were very flat. The pillow case easily slid off of the pillow. The room had a TV up high near the ceiling; on the wall were the suction equipment, call light fixtures, and an oxygen outlet. Other than that, a bedside stand, a chair and over bed table and there was not much in the room which was not very big. She was not sure if it was day or night, the hall outside the room was dimly lit and she could hear voices from the nurse’s station and the hall-the voices sounded very loud in the dim lighting.
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