Reaching Nirvana

Chapter 1

Under the fluorescent light of Scihomphu Hospital's Emergency Room waiting area, a lanky figure dressed in black sportswear paced back-and-forth. He rushed to the hallway, as a doctor emerged from the restricted examination area.

"Mr. Traipipattanapong, it is best that you contact Mr. Jongcheveevat's family immediately. We need to operate on him, before his condition deteriorates further." Gulf remembered the young doctor's face, from the small crowd that received Mew's stretcher, as it unloaded from the medical helicopter.

"Dr...", Gulf stared intensely into the young doctor's face, shook his head slightly and pursed his lips, as the name of the doctor evaded him.

"Dr. Shinawatra, I am Mr. Jongcheeveevat's primary physician. Mr. Jongchevevat is currently in an induced coma, CT scan shows that he has a closed fracture, a coup contusion, and epidural hematomas just under his left parietal bone."

The sound of strange words like "intracranial" and "edema" kept on hitting Gulf's ears, he couldn't understand them, and he couldn't process them. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, lightheaded and nauseous. "But he is going to be ok, right?" Gulf asked in a trembling voice, while tightly grabbing the doctor's upper arms, and stared hopelessly into the doctor's eyes, searching for reassurance.

"Mr. Traipipattanapong. I understand it must be difficult, but please try to stay calm. Due to the severity of Mr. Jongcheeveevat's injury, it would be premature to assess his prognosis now."

The exchange between the doctor and Gulf was no longer than 5 minutes, but to Gulf, it felt like a lifetime. It seemed that he needed to mobilize every single cell in his body to just stand and listen. He could barely hold himself up. As the doctor disappeared into the emergency room again, Gulf sank into a green chair, backed onto a wall, and with his shaking hand, speed-dialed Mew's mom.

--------------------------------------------------------*******--------------------------------------------------------------

On the left of Gulf was a small orange plastic tray, with a sandwich, and some ice water. On the right of him was stack of magazines. But in the past hour, Gulf was only interested in playing a "what if" game with himself.

What if Mew stays in a coma for weeks? Then he would come to the hospital everyday and keep him company.

What if Mew is confused and agitated after he wakes up? Then he would take care of Mew, from head-to-toe. Close his curtains for him, turn down the TV for him, read to him softly, and never talk-back.

What if Mew can't drive anymore? Then he would get a car, and drive Mew to school, and pick him up.

What if Mew can't walk properly? Then he would hire the best physical therapist in Thailand, no, in the world.

What if Mew won't wake up anymore? Gulf couldn't allow himself to finish the thought. He felt like a pebble, being dropped into a dark sea, submerged in a deep and desperate pain.

"Mr. Traipipattanapong, here is a blanket for you. You seem cold". A nurse gently draped a pale blue cotton blanket around Gulf's shoulders. Startled, Gulf nervously looked up at the nurse with wild eyes.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" The nurse asked with a concerned voice, as Gulf scrunched his legs, and hugged his knees tightly with his own arms, shivering like a small furry animal underneath the blanket. Gulf answered with an abrupt headshake.

A warm breeze entered the waiting room, from the revolving door at the hospital entrance. A slender middle-aged woman dressed in a khaki trench coat emerged from the darkness. Seeing the familiar face, light returned to Gulf's eyes for the first time in many hours. He stood up from the chair and closed the distance between them with long strides. He tightly wrapped his arms around the elegant lady, and sobbed for an entire minute, before he was able to speak.

He could barely look into her sad and anxious eyes and muttered "P'Mew is seriously hurt. It is all my fault."

"How? When? Why?" The lady stared at Gulf with disbelief. After all, a mere 24 hours ago, Mew and Gulf were baking hazelnut brownies for their little road trip to Phu Kradueng National Park. She had to urge them to sleep, in order to have a safe drive. Still, the two young men acted like excited children before a school trip. The sound of packing and hushed laughter was heard outside Mew's bedroom, well after midnight.

Gulf ushered Mew's mom to a quiet corner of the waiting room, sat her down on a chair, and kneeled beside her.

"P'Mew fell into a stream. His clothes got wet, but otherwise he seemed ok. We walked for some time, then he complained that he felt dizzy and nauseous. I thought he was having a heat stroke. We sat down underneath a tree, taking cover in the shade. He said he was tired and closed his eyes. I was whipping his face, and then saw..." Gulf's voice cracked as he tried to squeeze out the rest of the sentence "I saw blood trickling from his right ear." Gulf broke down again, covering his face with both of his hands, with tears streaming down between his fingers.

Mew's mom patted Gulf's head with a trembling hand, with a blank expression on her face. She googled frantically about head injuries in her car ride from Bangkok. Gulf was just describing one sign of severe head injury after another. It was almost unbearable to hear.

"What did the doctor say?" Mew's mom asked in tears.

"The doctor said that it would be premature to assess his prognosis now." Gulf had repeated Dr. Shinawatra's statement word-for-word, too afraid to misrepresent any information.