I remember September 24, 2010.  My vision was blurry and my eyelids felt heavy as I tried to comprehend the date written on the board at the foot of my bed.  It was a fight to keep my eyes open enough to try to make sense of my surroundings; I kept sliding back into a heavy sleep.  With each awakening, I could distinguish more objects during these lengthening periods of semi consciousness.  Why am I in this bed?  Where am I?  What was that whoosing sound?  What is in my mouth?  My teeth are clenched on something.  I can’t move!  Where are my arms and why can’t I move?  A person came into view, took a look at me and ran out of sight telling someone, “she’s awake.”  Then I slid back to sleep.  Shortly after, I opened my eyes to see many people I didn’t know who were repeatedly reassuring me I was alright.  You know, when a person reassures you, “it’s alright” – it’s not.  This time I stayed awake long enough for the doctor to explain this alien world I woke up to.  I found my right arm; it wasn’t moving the way I expected it to and it was tied to the bed with a cloth.  The doctor untied it and proceeded to ask me to move various parts of my body.  Nothing worked but, I could feel his touch.  He spent most the exam focused on my feet.  Normally, we are all used to being able to think about moving and instantly having muscles and nerves respond.  It is strange and terrifying to have my body ignore my commands.  This would be just the beginning of my complete loss of self determination.  Later, when I was able to talk, I explained the feeling to my neurologist, of my body being encased in plastic layers with the sensation of water constantly running between the layers.  Even though I do not have the same sensation now, my toes feel as if the plastic is still on them.  The plastic feeling recedes as I gain movement in my feet and toes.

While I thought I was unconscious for seventeen days, I was told I was often awake and talking.  Propofol is an amnesiac and a truth serum.  Before the Guillain Barre affected my diaphragm and breathing, I was doing a lot of talking.  As the nurse would hang the white liquid into my IV, one friend told me, soon after we were laughing.  I was told, I am very funny when drugged.  Can you imagine not knowing what you said to whom for seventeen days?  Was I unkind?  Did I reveal family secrets?  I used to have Top Secret clearance in my prior job with the government, did I reveal anything I swore I would never tell?  The good news is: my friends still like me, my family haven’t disowned me, the hospital personnel still took good care of me and no diplomatic revelations made the headlines.