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Find this girl

Can you help me find this girl?

I am about to tell you a true story. If you read it, I will make it worth your while, and I will make you realize a few things along the way. And hopefully, you could help me find this girl. 

Here’s what happened.

I woke up. Feeling dizzy and I found myself lying in bed with a glaring light in front of my eyes and a sore head. I’m in a hospital. I closed my eyes so I could recall what happened but my wounds would start to hurt.

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A young, beautiful, long-haired nurse, with round black eyes, wearing pink lipstick and glowing in her white uniform was standing at the side of my bed.

She was talking and smiling at me. I didn’t know how long she’s been there standing or if I am paying attention to what she’s saying. I seemed to respond to some of her questions. Though I am still confused, maybe because of the medication. She’s very accommodating. Perhaps that has been her manner, or maybe nurses are like that. I don’t know. But she’s different.

Perhaps she engages herself into a conversation with her patients and orients them so they could easily catch up about what happened when they wake up.

All I know my head is aching, I’m thirsty, and my throat was burning. At the back of my mind, I’m still thinking about what happened.

I looked to my left and saw a plastic cup with water on the bedside table. I tried to reach for it with my hand and then I realized that I cannot move my body.

“Let me get it for you.”

She placed the plastic cup between the bed rail and the pillow and put the straw into my mouth. I drank the water while she’s looking at me.

“What happened to me? Did I have an operation?” I asked.

“Just two minor procedures.” She reached over to gesture at my forehead and my chest. “It was a head-on collision, you’re lucky that that’s the only injury that you have.”

“I could feel the pain on my throat more than my head. It’s hard to speak,” I said.

“We had to intubate you to assist with sedation and breathing. Then we realized that a ventilator won’t be necessary basically you’re fine. The assistant will transfer you to your private room later, and these machines won’t be necessary. You’re fortunate.” She laughed. “The doctor ordered it because he thought we will be needing it.”

I wanted to ask for more, then I realized I’m here because of intoxication, I almost passed out in a bar then my friend volunteered to bring me home, he’s also drunk. I remember now.

“Next time, don’t go out when you’re drunk. Or much better if there will be no next time, can we agree on that? We still need you. We like to keep you around. You still have a mission. But if you want to kill yourself, don’t use alcohol. Jump from a cliff. Get lost in the woods. Just don’t include other people.” She went into some detail about how to do it, almost as if she were making a suggestion.

“Take care of yourself. You will be better soon.”

I thought she was lovely. Then I fall asleep.

Later that day, they transferred me to a private room. I felt someone came in, checked my blood pressure, replaced my intravenous fluid, examined my wounds, and left the room. I am asleep, but I can almost feel whenever someone came in to check on me.

There’s no window in my room. I could hear a dripping sound on the aircon. There was a TV in front, I wanted to turn it on, but I couldn’t reach the remote. The nurse alert button is on my left side, but I didn’t want to call a nurse just to get the remote.

I remained there alone in the room. And I couldn’t determine if it was night or day outside. To add to the confusion, I couldn’t even tell what time it is.

I felt so alone. Then I start to feel some harmful, self-critical thoughts. I tried to be optimistic, but it didn’t last.

I’m alone in a hospital bed. I can’t even move my body. It felt like I was hallucinating. My inner voice is starting to feed into my feeling of isolation.

He’s starting to put all the blame on me.

Telling me that it’s all my fault. That I am alone because I’m selfish, and I only act on things that are beneficial for me and not everyone else.

Reminding me that I am alone because I always take advantage of everyone else. My negative self-talk is gaining momentum. I want to defend and protect myself. This inner voice is telling a lot of lies.

I want to shout out loud. I want to run outside and ask for help. But I can’t move my body. I feel so helpless.

Then a soft hand touches me on my face with a reassuring voice, “Don’t worry, I am here for you.”

I opened my eyes and saw the nurse standing on my side again. She’s smiling at me. This time the glow on her face is different.

“Learn from your experience. You’ll be a different person when you come out here. And I will always be with you.” Then she lifts up her hand. Walk towards the door and waved goodbye.

That’s the last time that I saw her.

After five days, the doctor informed me that I can now go home and to continue the medication at home. He prescribed more medicines, but I didn’t really purchase them all.

I tried to come back to the hospital multiple times to look for her, and whenever I am asked about her name. I couldn’t tell because I really don’t know her name.

And every time I described how she looks, they always say they don’t know anyone with that physical attributes.

The doctor even checked my medical records and introduced me to the nurses assigned during my stay. No one looks like her.

To this day, that experience still remains a mystery to me. Can you help me find this girl? 

Leave your message here, if you have the same experience.  Or connect with me on Facebook

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About the Author Fred Mosquida

Fred is a passionate virtual professional who wants to teach his countrymen about the opportunity of working online. He advocates that the Internet is not just for Facebook, YouTube, and online game usage. On this site, he gathers established professionals, CEO's, freelancers, business owners and influencers and asked for their insights that will provide an overview of how you can start as a virtual professional. He aims to support and help those who want to become an effective virtual professional.

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