She lay on the trauma bed staring at the ceiling, wondering where she was. Sand bags were nestled up against each of her ears and a plastic collar gripped her neck tightly. A mass of bodies surrounded her, some listening to her chest, others calling across the room asking the size of her pupils, and others still, plunging knife-like needles into her arms. Having been thoroughly poked and prodded everywhere imaginable, the doctors and nurses had discovered that aside from a few minor scrapes on her arms and legs and the gnawing discomfort of the collar eating into the back of her skull, she appeared to have no pain or significant injuries anywhere.
But she didn’t know where she was or why she was there.
“Do you remember what happened?”, the doctor asked.
“No, I’ve no idea. Why am I here? Where am I?”, the patient was puzzled.
“You’re in hospital – you were involved in a car accident. Do you know what day it is?”
“No… I’m not sure.”
“Its the 1st of March.”, said the doctor slowly.
“Oh… White rabbits, white rabbits, white rabbits…”
As she finished speaking the patient noticed the barely contained quiver of a smile on the doctor’s face. She looked to a nearby nurse who grinned sympathetically.
“What’s funny?…?”
The doctor spoke
“Sorry… We’ve told you the date a few times now – each time you’ve given the same reply!”
The patient laughed.
“Don’t move your head! We need you to stay still until we’ve scanned your head and neck…”
The White Rabbit
Like song that sweetens toil, laughter brightens the road of life, and to be born with a sense of the comic is a precious heritage.
- William Osler
About Chris Nickson
