“Where am I? Who am I?” I have asked these questions several times. Until suddenly my consciousness becomes clear, and the memories hit me all of a sudden. I look around me; it takes me a while to realize that I am in a hospital, in a first-aid room, and the smell of anesthesia raises my blood pressure. The doctors surround me with syringes, perhaps with painkillers, although they inject them in the serum, and I think I manage to ask for Angelo and my children before falling asleep.I have no hands, no feet, no face, or anything. It seems to me that I am a painting on a wall contemplating the horizon, but suddenly I am also someone who observes the painting. I detail that it is a canvas of my life and that it was painted with tears and smiles. I see it and I see me, both screens at the same time, until a blue energy shakes us and my eyes see a great light. Furthermore, as I turn my head and observe people dressed in white and blue, I hear, “We are going to intubate her.”It is a proce
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