Yes, take the sedative

"Mr. Doe? Would you like the sedative?" Dr. Pembrost asks, a hint of indecision in her voice.

"Yes. Please," you say, grimacing as another jolt of pain passes through your spine. You suddenly feel exhausted. Although you've only been awake for about fifteen minutes, your body feels like it's been working in a coal mine for the last fifteen hours.

Dr. Pembrost turns to speak to a black male nurse who has appeared out of nowhere and who is now suddenly standing at the foot of your bed. She gives him a short set of instructions with which he appears to be perfectly familiar and then turns back to you.

"Don't worry, Mr. Doe; you're in very good hands here. We're going to give you a mild sedative and pain killer to get you through the night, then we'll see how you're doing in the morning."

"Will I...will I go back? Into the coma?" you ask. Although you don't remember anything about the coma you have just come out of, the thought of going to sleep and never waking up again is more than a little unnerving.

Dr. Pembrost smiles, but it is a constrained smile, a professional smile. "You have nothing to worry about," she says. "People who wake up from comas rarely slip back into them. Waking up is usually a sign that the patient has returned to a normal wake-sleep cycle. We'll be monitoring you carefully; if anything goes wrong, we'll know right away, so try not to worry about it."

You smile to show that you understand, trying not to bend your neck by nodding. She smiles again, the same health-care professional smile and leaves the room. There is a prick in your left hand which takes you a little by surprise. You turn your eyes to look without turning your head and see that the male nurse has attached a new IV drip to the opposite hand. He smiles good-naturedly. "There you go, John. Brand new drip. This should make you feel a little better and help you sleep. If you need anything just press this button here," he says, placing a small plastic box in your hand with a button on the top. "One of the nurses will be here within five minutes, any time of day."

You smile, thanking him, but your voice is sluggish and slurred. The pain in your spine is already beginning to subside; you feel more comfortable and relaxed already. You look around for the nursing assistant, curious to see if she is still in the room as well, but everyone is gone. Even the nurse is gone, although you could swear that you just spoke to him only seconds ago. The light is wrong too. The interior light is off and the angle of the sunlight is different; it's paler and redder too. It looks like dawn! You must have fallen asleep.

That's some stuff they gave you, you think as you get up and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You feel like a million bucks. Like you've never been sick a day in your life. You walk around the end of the bed and open the bathroom door, eager to take a look at yourself, to see the extent of the damage.

The door opens onto a dusty trail at the top of a hill overlooking a forest. In the distance is a majestic range of mountains, the sharp, angular sides reflecting the red-gold light of dawn. It's breathtaking. You turn around. The open door is in the side of a small, concrete building. It looks like some sort of clinical retreat, an exclusive facility sequestered high in the Rocky Mountians. It is surrounded by cedar and pine trees. The air is crisp, fresh and delicious to your senses.

You start walking down the trail to the forest. It's very peaceful, with only a few early birds chirping away, hidden amongst the leaves of the trees. The path widens to make room for a rough wooden bench, made of split logs. It looks so comfortable and inviting you decide that you just have to sit. It provides an excellent view of the mountains, which gleam like copper in the early morning light.

You sit down and lean back, crossing one leg over your knee. You don't remember ever feeling this good.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better," says a female voice behind you. You should be startled, but the voice is beautiful, soothing, and you recognize it instantly, though you can't place it. You turn around to see who it is.

A woman is standing with her back to you, looking at the trees behind you. She's only about five feet away. She's so close, you can smell her perfume, which is heady and arousing. Her hair is thick and long, hanging down to her waist, a deep auburn color. It looks soft, like a warm cloud. She's wearing a tight-fitting green dress, the color of pine needles. You can't help but notice how perfectly shaped her buttocks are. You know you've seen her before, but you can't remember where. You try to remember her name, but you come up blank.

"Don't worry, John, it'll come back to you sooner than you like. I just wanted to say hello before you woke up."

"Before I wake up?" you ask.

The nursing assistant, who is standing beside your bed, jumps and gives a startled little yelp. You're back in your hospital room! You try to sit up, but an angry burst of pain shoots down your spine and you fall back into bed with a groan. The nursing assistant, her face flushed with embarrassment places her hands on your shoulders and holds you down.

"Try to stay still, Mr. Doe. And please try to stop startling me every time you wake up!" she says with a good-natured laugh.

"Sorry," you say, trying not to appear too confused. What just happened? Where is the trail? Where did the mountains go? Where is the auburn-haired woman?

"That's ok; I'm a bit of a fraidy-cat. I've been expecting you to wake up for weeks now, so I've just been a bit on edge. You'd think I'd be prepared, but the moment you do, there I go, practically jumping out of my skin. I hope I didn't wake you. I just came in to see if you were up. It's time for your...."