When Yesterday Is Gone

By Christy Larson

Leanna had great plans for her life. She had just started her final year of college, with hopes of going to graduate school afterwards. But all of that was interrupted when she landed in a car crash that caused her to end up in a coma. Waking up years later and finding herself by that time to be in her early thirties, she is faced with the prospect of living a life that is inevitably different from the one she had originally envisioned. Now that she is "lagging behind for her age," Leanna struggles to go on with life and wonders, can Plan B ever be as good as Plan A?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543475586

Christy Larson

Christy Larson has written fiction stories since childhood and continued doing so as an adult. She has attended college and graduate school. Like some of the characters she writes about, she is still a virgin. However, unlike Ingrid in “Bitter Pool,” she has never turned to drugs or alcohol, and unlike Ashley in “The Tall Girl,” she is against homosexual activity. The most important thing in Christy’s life is God and Christianity.

Book preview

Chapter 1

It must have been very early in the morning, I could tell. I was barely awake, or was just beginning to wake up. Briefly opening my eyes, I noticed that the room was still dark, with some street lights shining through the window. It wasn’t even dawn yet. Sleepily, I pulled the blanket up, covering myself more. I didn’t want to get up yet. I felt, strangely weak and as if I didn’t have the energy to get up. Maybe I would doze for a little longer.

I let my mind wander over recent events. Running, running, that’s what I remember doing in my college town. It was so sunny the last time I was going jogging. I liked warm weather, always had, and I was glad that it was getting warm.

Finals had ended in early May, and I’d gotten a summer job working at the food court in the student union center. It wasn’t great, but I was glad to have it. Once the new semester started again in August, I continued working there part-time, though my primary responsibility was again going to classes and studying. That was my fifth year of college, and it was due to be my last year of undergrad. Normally I would have just finished my degree, but because of a couple of mishaps (one semester, I’d dropped some classes before the withdrawal deadline because they weren’t going well, and then after my second year, I switched majors) it looked like I wouldn’t finish my degree in four years. It looked like it was going to take me a full five years total.

One more year to go, I’d told myself that summer, not sure how I really felt about it. I wasn’t happy about it, but well, I was young, and as everyone told me, a lot of students nowadays take five years to complete their bachelor’s degrees. It just didn’t fit my ideal. Besides, I wanted to go to graduate school too, so that would mean more schooling after finishing the undergraduate degree.

But oh, I liked to run. I’d started jogging at the age of 14, and I still went on runs in college. I figured I’d continue indefinitely. It helped also with keeping my weight down. I was over 5’8" and weighed usually between 110 and 115. I watched what I ate, but I wasn’t obsessive about it. And I admit, I drank lots of diet soda. I couldn’t get enough of that stuff. People said it’s so unhealthy, and one girl even claimed it made her behind get big. But I still had a small behind, and as long as it had zero calories, I’d drink it without a second thought.

Come to think of it, I wondered, what had I eaten the day before? Sometimes if I ate too much for dinner, I’d skip breakfast the next morning. But if I hadn’t eaten too much for dinner, I could afford to eat breakfast. I liked oatmeal and bananas, and at least it was healthy. But somehow, I couldn’t remember what I’d had for dinner the night before. The harder I tried to remember, the more blank my mind felt. Strange. That wasn’t like me. What did I eat for dinner? I just couldn’t remember! I couldn’t remember what I’d eaten for lunch either. Though when I thought about it, a memory came to mind about eating a lunch of French fries and some kind of sorbet ice cream, but the memory was vague, as if it wasn’t necessarily from yesterday but from another time.

I’d have to go to church. I attended regularly. Usually, I went to services on both Sundays mornings and Wednesday evenings. I prayed daily, and I read the bible when I wasn’t too lazy. But what day was it anyway? When had I last gone to church? And again, I couldn’t remember. I wasn’t sure even what day of the week it was. I remembered a church service, but I wasn’t sure if it had been yesterday or longer ago. It also had that same strange vague feel to it.

Why can’t I remember? I said aloud to the empty room, feeling puzzled and disturbed. My voice came out like a croak. Was I coming down with a cold? Maybe I’d have to call Kara or another friend from church and ask them. But that would seem strange. What would I say, that I was having a hard time remembering things? Hopefully my memory would work better again after a while.

I wanted to see what time it was. Opening my eyes, I turned my gaze to the side of the bed where I usually kept my alarm clock. It was the kind that showed the time in glowing red numerals. But, I soon discovered, it wasn’t in its usual spot. Where was it? Had I put it somewhere else? I needed to know what time it was. It had occurred to me that I might need to go to work later in the morning. Of course, that would only be the case if it was a weekday, and I hadn’t yet figured out what day of the week it was.

What a mess. Chances are, I figured, that it was too early to get up. Maybe it was only 2 or 3 a.m., but who knows, it could have already been 5 a.m. I could probably go back to sleep for another hour or two, but if I didn’t know what day of the week it was or if I’d need to go to work, I should probably figure it out. To do so, I’d have to get up.

A thought came to me. I remembered working at the student union center and running into Lauren, a girl I knew from church. She sometimes stopped by there to buy a muffin or some other item. She’d said something about planning on going to the Wednesday evening service the following day, and I’d assured her I’d see her there. So that must have been Tuesday, and today must be Wednesday. I’d have to go to work and then later I’d have to go to church. Oh boy. I couldn’t afford to feel so lethargic.

I looked toward the window. It looked still to be dark outside. The window looked bigger than I remembered, but how could that be? I’d probably have to wash my hair. Casually, I tried to take a hold of a strand of my long hair, but as I did so, I let out a shriek. I could barely lift my arm – it seemed I was hooked up to something. I tried to get up, but was not able to do so. What was going on? I realized with a jolt that I probably wasn’t even at home. Had I been kidnapped and tied up? But no, it seemed to be tubes that were in my arms. Was it a hospital I was in? What had happened? I sort of freaked out at that point. I mean, what could have happened? The situation seemed just too strange.

Help! Help! If anyone is around, please come over here! I want to know what is going on! I screamed. As agitated as I was, in some part of me I was still able to reason that if I was in a hospital, surely there had to be nurses and other staff members around. Hopefully someone would hear me and would tell me what was going on. Hopefully they would also get me unhooked from these tubes. When no one entered my room after a few moments, I continued screaming for help.

Suddenly, I heard the door to the room I was in opening. Someone walked in and turned on the lights. I looked wide-eyed at the room and noted that, indeed, it appeared to be a hospital room. The lady who had entered the room seemed to be a nurse dressed in a blue uniform.

Hi, I said shakily. W-w-why am I here?

She looked at me with surprise too, for some reason. She had a monitor with her, some kind of equipment. She had short dark hair, glasses, and looked to be about my mother’s age. Her name tag, I noticed, read Rachel.

So you finally woke up, she noted and looked at me in wonderment.

Well, yes. But why am I in a hospital? What is going on? I asked, eager for answers. And oh, can I get unhooked? There are all these tubes. I can’t even move my arm.

We will unhook you shortly. Can you tell me your name please? she asked.

Leanna Deegan, I said. Didn’t she know? Or was she just checking to make sure I was coherent? My eyes fell to the white band around my wrist that listed my name, even my middle initial M (for Maureen) and my date of birth. How long had I been in this hospital? Apparently I’d been admitted as a patient, but how and when?

Can you tell me your home address? nurse Rachel continued.

It should have been an easy question to answer, but somehow, my mind was blank. Why couldn’t I remember? Had they drugged me or something? I usually wasn’t so mentally foggy.

It’s 832 Main St. Apt. #5, I said uncertainly, hoping that was correct. Surely I had lived at that address at some point, though I was no longer sure if it was my most recent address.

Nurse Rachel looked at me for a long moment without saying anything. Then she sighed. I will get someone else to help us. Then we will unhook you from the tubes. I will be right back. She left the room, closing the door behind her. I wished she’d left it open. I waited for what seemed like more than just a few minutes. I looked at the tubes that were on both sides of me, hoping I would find out the truth about my situation as soon as possible.

Finally, the door to my room opened again. Nurse Rachel, followed by two other people who were also dressed in nurse’s uniforms, entered. One of them had a name tag reading Kevin, and the other’s name tag read Louise.

So Leanna, how do you feel? We are so glad you are awake! said nurse Louise, smiling at me. She seemed friendly, but I also noticed a bit of that wonderment in her expression that I’d seen in nurse Rachel’s. Why? Had I been in an accident and had they expected me to die? Was that it?

I’m ok, I think. I just want to know what happened, what is going on. I don’t even remember coming to this hospital, I replied.

What is the last thing you remember? asked nurse Louise.

Um, I don’t know, I was working at the student union center and planned to go to bible study that night, I started. They waited for me to continue, but I didn’t remember anything beyond that.

We will need to take her vital signs before unhooking her, nurse Rachel said. They proceeded to take my pulse, checked my heartbeat with a stethoscope, looked into my eyes, ears and mouth. Apparently, they did not find anything unusual.

They unhooked me, and I still wondered when I would find out what happened. Why were they just not telling me? But at least I was getting unhooked.

I tried again to get answers. As you all know, I guess, I just woke up. I’m not sure why I’m here. This is a hospital, and I wasn’t sick or anything. That is, before I –went to sleep or whatever. I have no idea why I’m here or even how I got here. So I’d like to know, well, why I’m here.

The three nurses looked at each other meaningfully without saying anything.

Leanna, I think it will be best to wait until the doctor who is assigned to your case gets here. Her name is Dr. Swanson. She will explain everything. Unfortunately. she will not be in for a few more hours, nurse Louise finally.

It’s only 3:47 a.m. Only a minimum of staff members are on duty at this time, nurse Kevin added.

I think we will have to move her to the recovery room in the meantime, since she no longer needs to be hooked up to anything. It’s just at the end of the hall, nurse Rachel said.

They asked me to get up and to walk around. I could walk, but I felt strangely heavy, as if walking was difficult or awkward in a way it never had been before. I told them this.

You’re doing fine. Let’s take you to the recovery room, nurse Louise encouraged me. Instinctively, I wondered where my purse was – shouldn’t I bring that along? But I did not see any of my belongings around. The room was so bare. So I followed them to the recovery room, walking in my new, uncertain way. Without thinking much about it, I reached up to touch my long hair, and promptly let out a shriek. My hair was short. What had happened? Had someone cut it, and if so, why?

My hair! What happened to it? I queried shrilly.

Leanna, calm down. It was cut to make your hospital stay easier. I’m sure it will grow back, nurse Louise assured me.

It wasn’t the idea of having short hair that had shocked me. Rather, it was the fact that someone must have cut it without my knowing, without my permission, that unnerved me. I’d never heard of anything like it before.

What hospital was I in anyway? I didn’t even know. In my college town, there was the student health center on campus, which was fairly small. But there were also at least a couple of regular hospitals in that city. Had I been brought to one of those? I asked, half expecting that they would tell me to wait for Dr. Swanson to answer any questions I had. But surprisingly, they did tell me the name of the hospital. It was a name I did not recall having heard before. This puzzled me even more.

Once I was in my new room, I headed to the window and looked outside. It was, of course, still dark outside. I saw streetlamps, cars, and a few smaller buildings. It didn’t look familiar to me. The room was small and also bare, except for the bed and nightstand. Nurse Rachel went to get me a glass of juice. I’d just have to wait until Dr. Swanson would arrive.

Please call one of us if you need anything, nurse Louise said and explained where the button was that I could push that would alert someone to come to my room to check on me. They soon left, leaving me to myself and to my bewildered thoughts.

The best possible explanation for things that I could come up with was that I must have been in an accident and had become unconscious. Someone must’ve called an ambulance or transported me by car to the hospital. Thankfully though, I was now okay and not seriously hurt.

Somehow, I felt sleepy. Then again, it wasn’t even 4 a.m. yet. I laid down in the hospital bed, not bothering to cover myself with any blankets. I’d nap for a while. Before falling asleep, I again fingered my now so short hair, feeling puzzled. What in the world could have possibly warranted for someone (hospital staff?) to cut my hair while I was sleeping or unconscious for a few hours?

****

Leanna, someone called my name. It was a female’s voice, one I didn’t recognize.

I opened my eyes and sat up in the hospital bed. I must’ve fallen back asleep and supposedly, I’d then slept a few hours. It was no longer dark outside. Instead, sunlight was flowing into my room.

I looked at the lady standing by the door. She had short blond hair and was wearing a doctor’s uniform. She was shorter than I, but heftier.

I’m Dr. Swanson, she introduced herself. May I come in?

Yes, yes, sure, I said. I sat up. So this was the doctor who was supposed to be giving me all of the details, all of the information about what had happened, about why I was here.

Dr. Swanson came in and took a seat. There was a chair near the small desk by my bed. She looked at me through her glasses, also, I noticed, with at least some surprise, some curiosity.

How are you feeling today? she started. She had a pad of paper with her. Was she going to be taking notes?

I shrugged. I feel okay. I just wonder why I’m here. Was I in some kind of accident?

She looked suddenly nervous, or was I imagining that? We will get to all of the details about why you are here. But first let me ask you, what do you think happened? What is the last thing you remember before today?

Well, I started, looking at the hospital ID tag on my wrist. Even my watch was missing. Usually I wore a wristwatch.

I remember working at the Student Union Center. I had a summer job there that I continued even after Fall semester started in August. I’d only had one class that day, a morning class, and afterwards I went to work. And, um, I was planning on going to church later in the day. You see, my church has bible studies and I usually try to go to that. I looked at Dr. Swanson to see her reaction.

Do you remember anything about that church service? Or about what you did after work? she pressed.

I thought, concentrating hard. It seemed there was something but it seemed sort of vague.

I finished work. And I was going home, to my apartment. I live off-campus now. I was planning on taking the bus. Sometimes I walk, but it’s kind of a long walk. So this day –yesterday- I was going to take the bus. I paused.

So do you remember taking the bus? What do you remember about your trip home? Dr. Swanson continued to ask. Her voice sounded gentle though at this point.

I tried to remember. It felt a bit like a therapy session, though I’d never been to see a therapist. I could just guess that it must be sort of like this. But why wasn’t she just telling me what had happened? I wasn’t sure I even could remember. If I’d gotten home that day, I would’ve eaten something, and then started preparing for church. But did I ever make it that far? Backtracking, I couldn’t remember an evening bible study that day. I couldn’t remember being back in my apartment or eating dinner. Maybe I never got back to my apartment. But then, did I never get on the bus to try to go back to my apartment?

I suddenly remembered I hadn’t gotten on the bus. A couple of people who also worked at the student union center offered to give me a ride home, and I’d accepted. I only knew one of them, Lucy. We’d talked sometimes. Her boyfriend Dan would be doing the driving. They were already giving another girl, I think her name was Jenny, a ride too. Luckily they had room for one more. And so I came along.

I told this to Dr. Swanson.

Lucy’s boyfriend, Dan, drove kind of fast. I was a little worried, but not that much. But then there was another car coming and it looked as if we might crash… I stopped talking and my eyes widened as I realized the impact of what I was saying.

Dr. Swanson nodded sympathetically. You did crash. Dan was a poor driver, I’m afraid.

"Oh no. So I was in an accident! See, until now I couldn’t remember. But I tried to think of possible reasons for why I landed in this hospital here. I thought one possible explanation would’ve been that I was in an accident. And oh boy, I guess I really was! What happened to the others in the car?"

The car was totaled. Your friends – the three others in the car – were all bruised, but they survived, Dr. Swanson explained. I was relieved that at least she was finally willing to talk.

And well, I survived too, I added, stating what I thought was the obvious. But did I get bruised? Did I, you know, become unconscious? Because I don’t remember getting brought to the hospital.

Dr. Swanson nodded but didn’t say anything. She looked at my eyes searchingly and, I thought, gravely. I thought she seemed nervous, or concerned. Was there something more, something even worse that had happened? Supposedly no one had died in the car crash. She’d already affirmed that. Had I suffered brain damage? I hadn’t thought so, but maybe it just wasn’t so obvious to me yet. I did, after all, have a hard time remembering some things. And when I’d run across the hall earlier, it hadn’t been as easy for me as it normally should’ve been. I felt sort of… heavy, and a bit lethargic.

I thought I was handling things pretty well, all things considered. So I’d been in a car crash, had become unconscious and had been brought to a hospital. I’d awoken, not knowing where I was, but I’d caught on and was responding fairly calmly and maturely to the news and such. Not so bad for someone my age. I was, after all, barely 23. My birthday had passed a little earlier in the month. Hopefully they’d let me go home soon to resume my life. I had a lot to do, after all.

Leanna, this is hard for me to tell you, but I think you need to know the rest of the story, Dr. Swanson said, breaking the silence.

Ok, sure, I said, nodding. I tried to look very prepared and calm, but I could feel my heart starting to beat faster. I felt suddenly afraid.

You seem to think you can just go home today and resume your life exactly where you left off, but I do not think that is possible, Dr. Swanson started.

Oh? Do I have to stay here longer? I need to go to classes today so I don’t get behind. I might also have to work a few hours in the afternoon today so I don’t lose my job, I said, but suddenly in a quiet tone of voice and with a lot less confidence. Looking at the expression on Dr. Swanson’s face, I knew that wouldn’t happen.

You have been in a coma for more than a day, a lot more, Leanna.

Oh, I said. Just how long? A week? Or even a month?

Dr. Swanson shook her head. Well over eight years have passed since that day you first went into a coma. It has been eight years and almost nine months. Today is June 17, 2006. She said it hurriedly, as if she wanted finally to get this task, of having to tell me this, over with.

I thought my heart would stop beating. My whole body froze. I could only look at her in consternation. EIGHT YEARS AND NINE MONTHS? Did you say I was in that coma for almost nine years?" I finally asked incredulously, my voice sounding strange, even to me.

She nodded gravely. The accident that caused you to become comatose took place September 22, 1997, and now it is June 17, 2006. That is eight years, eight months, and 26 days, to be precise. I’m sorry, Leanna. We will do everything we can to help you to adjust to the situation. For some time, we had begun to give up on you ever coming out of that coma, so even just the fact that you are now sitting here talking to me, and so alert, is like a miracle. You can be grateful to be alive.

I didn’t say anything. I was trying to let it all sink in and to make sense of things. Eight, almost nine years… It just couldn’t be. It was like a nightmare, a horrible one from which I couldn’t wake up. If it was June of 2006, whew, technically I must be 31, going on 32 in a few months. It just couldn’t be. Only a day ago I’d still been barely 23 and having just started my final year of college, working on campus, planning to go to an evening bible study at my church.

That was a day ago, or so it seemed. But actually, eight years and lots of months had passed, and I hadn’t done anything in that time except sleep, basically. I’d spend it in a coma in a hospital. All those years must be gone, permanently gone.

Had everyone aged? My mother had been 45, but now she must be 54. My friends, the ones near my age, must also be, shucks, in their early thirties now. What had they done in the meantime? I felt a whirlwind of emotions. I was still shocked, but also felt so much fear and panic.

Oh no, I muttered. Oh no!

Leanna, it’s okay, Dr. Swanson said, trying to sound reassuring.

No, it’s not okay, it could never be okay. Help! Lord, help! I cannot take this! I screamed. I continued screaming. I don’t think I’d just started screaming like that since I was a little kid, but it seemed like the only thing to do.

Chapter 2

Dr. Swanson and nurse Kevin tried to be understanding, I think. They spoke to me