Suddenly he felt like he was awake. His eyes were not open. They would not open. He could not see the room. But he knew he was there. It felt as though he was awake. He lay their motionless. In a state of sleep where his brain was awakening faster than the rest of his body. He was not awake in fact. His body was some where in between. Trapped.
He was trapped in some bizarre noir film as if he were a tortured version of Gulliver in Lilliput. The Lilliputians had his body tied down and all that he could move was his head. The rest of his body was paralyzed. His breathing grew rapid. So rapid that he was in a near panic. A panic attack was seconds away. Sweating now ferociously, his body was sticking to the sheets. His body was rigid now too and his brain realized there was nothing he could do. The more he fought it the less responsiveness the rest of his body was and the more frantic his heart seemed to beat. He concentrated sending messages from his brain to his body. Just solely focusing on his right arm, he tried to move it the slightest bit. Oh, my god this was purely frightening. I am helpless he thought to himself. It was horrifying.
His wife was laying to his right. The arm was dangling across her back. It was as if the arm had been ripped from his body and placed on her. He knew it was there but could not get it. He could not move it. Right now, it was not part of his body. The room was pitch black and no light was coming in the windows. The storm that rolled in from the previous day showed no signs of letting up and unfortunately for him the storm was causing enough noise that the guttural noise he was able to push through from his throat was blocked from his wife’s hearing. Had she heard it, it would not have mattered. It would have come across like the frequent noises of his apnea. Those periods in the night were she thought he had died only to resuscitate himself back to life with a deep breath only someone being buried alive would take.
Paralyzed. Frantic. He could not move. Cold but not able to shiver he was dying but his brain did not yet know it. He was near to the point where his bladder was set to release. Dread. Freaking out. What do I do he chanted a millions times in the burst of a second? The pounding in his chest was hardly rhythmic. It was as if an ancient Native American tribe was signaling war with its enemy on his soul. Thud, thud, thud slow then fast. The pulsing was going to his brain and his temples were on fire. Nothing below his chin functioned.
Still panicking he tried to slow down his breathing. He still could not move. His body would not wake up. All he could think about was trying to move. It was as if he was a turtle flipped over on its shell or better yet a naked man, splayed on a cement bed being tortured by his enemies. Terrified of the vulnerability. Completely helpless and there was nothing he could do. He knew something was coming and the fear, his greatest fear was about to happen. He did not know what his greatest fear was, but it was eminent, impending and sure to tear him to pieces.
His right arm somehow freed itself from the paralysis. A wave of excitement gripped him for a second. A ray of hope shined on him. The arm however was still not moving from the will of his brain. It was moving because of his wife. Like a wooden 2×4 teetering on a fulcrum, the arm swayed back and forth. There was not enough dexterity or muscle strength to do anything not even raise the arm and drop it back on his wife.
His eyes closed he tried to squash the horror. He tried to calm down. It is ok. You just need to relax. You just have to relax. Relax. His brain and head were as if it were detached from the rest of his body. He knew his body was there but there was nothing he could to arouse it. To waken it from this deep paralysis. It was maddening. He was going insane. He was losing control of himself. His brain was beyond focusing on anything now. His bladder was sure to give. The exasperating frustration was creating a frantic plea with his body to wake up! Wake up! Please god, please.
He did not know what to do. He took a deep breath, paused and heaved. Relax. Heaved. Nothing. He tried repeatedly and again. Making the guttural noises again and again. Finally, one last push came. He was able to connect everything and it worked. He had done it. He managed to roll over on his side. He was now sucking in air faster than the intake manifold of an F-18. His body lay flaccid and completely unaware of the tragedy that had taken place. His brain though was acutely aware of what had just happened.
Fatigue from the hour-long struggle finally set in and he fell back asleep, in his puddle of sweat and now shivering from the cold that was soaking him to the bone.