Who am I?

I gazed intently at the scene unfolding before my eyes and analysed the situation calmly. Blood. So much Blood. I stared at it, Oozing, Cherry red, brimming up and spilling out of the perfectly circular trepanation I had drilled into the skull.

“Suction,” I instructed, as an OR nurse scrambled to obey.

The blood cleared off the battlefield and I suddenly knew just how I planned to fix this minor hiccup in our plan. I reached my arm out toward the nurse-

“Maybe we should call in Dr.Amy” a voice squeaked.

The room went still as I slowly turned my head in the direction of the intern who dared to even think this, let alone voice it. Did he know who I am? Did he know I graduated top of my class at medical school? Did he know the way other hospitals still shamelessly tried to poach me because of my ‘unmatched and incomparable’ expertise in the field of neurosurgery? I fumed.

He stood rooted to the spot, the air he seemed to be unable to take in, now ominously thick with anticipation.

I took in a deep breath and rolled my shoulders then decided against obliterating the entire OR. The patient was my priority.

“Hand me the-” I began as my vision blurred and a piercing pain went through my head. I shook my head as I tried to remember the word I had thought of just a second ago.

“The-” I stuttered. What is it called? The blade used to make fine incisions! Come on, try harder! You know this- you’ve been doing this for a decade now!

I felt my throat closing up as

“Is everything okay Dr. Singh?”

I looked around for the owner of the voice and saw a masked and gloved Dr. Amy entering my Operating Room. I reluctantly nodded toward Dr. Amy and mumbled something about needing a moment, my head pounding as I stepped out of the sterile environment of the OR.

The harsh light of the hallway stung my eyes as I removed my mask, gloves, and gown. Shedding my surgical attire felt like shedding protective armour, but the weight on my shoulders only intensified as I walked briskly to my office. I strode down the corridor to my office, the familiar clicks of my heels echoing the rhythm of my racing thoughts.

In the dim glow of my office, the computer screen stared back at me, its blankness a canvas waiting to be destroyed by the chaos looming within me. This had been the third time this week. I found my mind racing through the things that could have potentially landed me in this fresh hell. As an adopted child, I was oblivious to my genetic makeup. I didn’t know if I carried the genes of Alzheimer’s or dementia within me.

I left my office and headed to the place I’d been going to after work, for the last ten years.

Present day

Red light strobed around me in time with pulsating beats of trance music, forming kaleidoscopic light flashes on my misty skin. I whipped my head around frantically looking for…whom? Who was I looking for? I scrunched my brows in confusion as my head began to throb unbearably and my eyelids felt intolerably heavy.

I felt my eyes snapping shut as my legs gave out below me.

I jerked awake, gasping for air with the sound of hospital monitors blaring around me.

‘Where am I?’ I questioned, slowly taking into note the myriad of wires snaked into and around my now fragile frame.

My question, directed toward a lady standing by the door, went unanswered as she yelled at the top of her lungs. “She’s awake! She’s awake!’.”