Sig might have spent the evening after his mother left in some what of a relaxed state. More than once he wondered how many people had woken up from a three month coma only to spend eight hours bombarded with questions from police, nurses, doctors and an over bearing mother whose only aim seemed to be to make sure things went her way.

For several hours after dinner he watched the TV that hung from the roof at the foot of his bed. There was very little on it that could hold his interest and each time a news break came on, or he found a news cast as he channel surfed he quickly skipped the channel. It was hard to get interested in even a comedy show, getting interested in a news service was just something he wasn’t ready for. It wasn’t until one of the nurses came in to check his obs, which had been pushed out to hourly checks until the following morning when it would be reviewed again, that he settled on a channel. He didn’t chose the channel rather it was where he stopped hitting the channel select button when the nurse walked in and the TV stayed there while the nurse did what she needed too.

After the nurse left, with no news, good or bad, about what she’d checked for, he found himself staring at an American sitcom. As he stared at the screen not really focusing on what it was he seeing he remembered how he’d once liked the show and barely missed an episode as it aired, but with time and the constant reruns of the series it became less funny and the characters less likeable. He was laying there thinking about how much that was a metaphor for his life, the more he saw people doing the same things over and over again and getting the same outcome, the more boring and mundane they became when the TV cut to a breaking news story.

Immediately Sig reached for the remote control and changed channel, the next three channels he jumped too all had news breaks as well. Whatever was happening seemed newsworthy enough to interrupt peopled evening viewing but to Sig it held no interest. It took six channel skips before Sig found a station that didn’t have breaking news on it, it was a cooking channel, something Sig never really watched but suddenly found himself engrossed in.

He didn’t really feel sleepy by 10pm when the nurse came back in for his obs again but he felt that he needed to sleep. He wasn’t entirely sure that a coma was like jet lag but he’d successfully avoided jet lag a few times by trying to get back into a sleep routine for the time zone he was in not the one he’d left, therefore thought that as the midnight hour approached sleep was good idea, especially if his obs were still going to be taken every hour until morning.

“Can I get something to help me sleep?” He asked the 11pm nurse after trying for an hour to sleep by not getting there.

The nurse, the same one who’d made the call for him, had no problems with giving him a mild sedative and told him that it was not unusual for a coma patient to want to sleep but not be able to soon after waking up. She returned soon after and by 11:15pm Sig was laying in his hospital bed with the TV off and slowly drifting towards sleep.

By the time breakfast was delivered the following morning Sig had managed some sleep, it was interrupted sleep thanks to the nurses doing their checks but he did not wake for every check and that made him feel slightly better. He’d have felt even better if breakfast didn’t have to be at 7am, but he knew that in hospital meal times were not something that could be dictated.

It was 8:37am when Vi poked her head through the closed door. Sig was actually expecting the doctor to come in and give his report about when he could get the catheter out, when he could have a shower and when the hourly obs could stop, so he was slightly surprised to see Vi, but he welcomed her in anyway.

“How are you?” she stepped up to the bed and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, this time Sig did not pull away.

“I’m getting better.” Sig replied before adding, “I think. At least the nurses think so. The ones who have shared their obs with me say I’m doing well.”

“Well you’re body has had a long time to heal.”

“Yeah.” Sig didn’t want to think any more about the time he was out of it.

“Did you see the news last night?” Vi asked almost as if she was getting straight into some important business that Sig needed to address.

Sig didn’t have to think about his answer before replying. “No! I deliberately switched it off. I didn’t want to know what was going on, even if it had nothing to do with…” Sig trailed off, he kind of knew what he wanted to say, but it didn’t seem the right time.

“What do you actually remember? Do you remember anything?” Vi asked, it was obviously a question she’d wanted to asked the previous day but was knew Sig would not want to answer truthfully in front of his mother. However Sig’s trailing off with his last comment seemed to suggest he was thinking about it.

“I remember bits and pieces.”

“But you told the police you remember nothing?” Vi asked.

“I don’t need their help or their questions. You know as well as I do that them knowing the truth is not going to change things. They might be here telling Mum they want to find the truth but as soon as they do it will be swept under the fucking rug and ignored. With conveniently is also what my mother wants, but her reasons are different.”

“So what did happen?” Vi asked.

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