The dog barking, the doorbell ringing, the sound of voices, strange voices, clanking equipment,metal on metal, I am up off the floor,strong arms help me onto a chair. We are leaving the house, we are leaving the dog alone to guard the house. A moonlit flit. Clanking through the black treacley night, sirens wailing down the Gloucester road, we make our way to the BRI. Nurses in grey and white stripes. A and E. They all have names out of Jane Austen novels like Clara and Grace. At some point I wake on ward twelve. Apparently I have had a stroke. I am surrounded by elderly women in chiffon nighties.

falling off the world

First the silver laptop slid from her lap and then she plummeted onto the carpet below. There was a dull thud somewhere, but she could not tell whether it was inside or outside her head. She did not find it strange that she could not get off the floor or that her left arm appeared not to work, but she was curious about not finding this strange experience at all odd.  Part of her was thinking that she ought to feel troubled by this- this was an unusual event. Everything was happening in very slow motion. Her main aim at the time was to avoid squashing her silver laptop with her body weight. She made several frantic attempts to lift the laptop up from under her, until she finally got hold of it with her right hand and threw it up onto the bed beside her as she collapsed onto the carpet. She had definitely fallen out of bed- an extraordinary event-and could not get up off the floor. She floundered around for a few minutes, wriggling her legs and arms across the carpet like a beached whale. She made no progress. She tried to call  Sarah, but her voice came out in a whisper. She could hear the others moving around in the house downstairs, but they could not hear her.