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It was either nothing, or blurriness. Darkness was most prevalent, but every so often I became aware of shapes or sounds. I didn’t like those times. It meant the hurt returned. I kept clawing my way back to the blackness, although I sensed something else was pulling me in the opposite direction.

I wasn’t sure if the shapes and sounds were real, or if they were dreams. None of them made sense, so it was difficult to tell.

Sometime later, I became aware of something or someone touching me. I didn’t like it. The more conscious I was, the more pain I felt.

Time didn’t really mean anything anymore, and so I had no idea how long I was going in and out of this half-awake state.

Eventually though, I came to realise I couldn’t be dead. I began to interpret the shapes and sounds as people, or machines beeping. Then, without warning, a room came into focus. My eyes must be working.

I could now tell that I had been propped up with pil