Cement

I wonder…

Does he remember his friend being dragged from his side, hysterical, and a firefighter taking his place?

Does he remember the collar going around his neck?

His arms being held down?

His legs tied to the board?

A 16 Guage IV inserted into his arm?

A mask covering his face?

Me, pushing his head down and securing it to the board?

Me again, looking into his eyes, telling him to relax, save his energy, stop fighting?

Does he remember the ride in the rescue at one in the morning, being taken away from the party, leaving his friends behind, drunk, crying, yelling and in shock? Or the trauma room, where he finally stopped struggling and lie still, barely breathing?

Does he know that right now he is in the ICU with a swollen brain; the result of a fall through a second story railing onto cement, and his family is by his side, hoping and praying that the boy they sent to Providence for college makes it home? Or walks again? Or hasn't suffered permanent brain damage?

Does he know that his father is bringing the kids he can find that were at the party into the hospital room, one at at time and letting them see the result of reckless behavior, even though the experience is killing him, hoping they will avoid the same fate?

Does he know that there is a very good chance that he will never regain consciousness, but might linger for years in that strange place between life and death?

Does he know anything now, or is it all gone, finished when he struck his head, and it's just a matter of time till they pull the plug?

I wonder.

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