Weekday mornings my alarm clock buzzer would wake me at 5:45am. It was not a friendly happy buzzer, it was obnoxious and mean. It let off the kind of buzz that most people would stop with a sledgehammer if they had one next to their bed. However, for me it was music to my ears. I have always been an early riser. A true morning person excited to see what the day was going to bring. I often wonder if I was waiting for my mean buzzer to go off while I was in my coma. Waiting patiently, day after day. Week after week. Month after month. I also wonder if I was dreaming. People always ask me if I remember my dreams and thoughts while I was in my coma. Sadly, I do not remember any dreams or thoughts. I wish I could say otherwise. I wish I could say that I remember seeing the white tunnel only to be turned away by St. Peter at the Pearly Gates saying, “Emily, it is not your time you have more work to do. Turn around and go back.”
I like to ask myself what my dreams would have been like if I could remember. I imagine one of my dreams would have been of Ryan teaching me how to play pool. He had a brand new professional size pool table at his house. It was so fun when he would teach me. It was exactly like a flirty scene from a movie. The cliche scenes where the guy has one hand on the pool stick and the other around the girls back holding her close while guiding the pool stick. I may be getting carried away but in my mind that is how it was going down. I really didn’t care about learning pool – hit this ball so it can hit that ball…blah, blah, blah. Jus’ hold me, Ryan.
I also imagine that I would have dreamed about going to EFY with Ryan and his sister, Sammi. It was a trip we took shortly before the accident. But more importantly it was the trip where I got to slow dance with Ryan. I couldn’t contain the giddy butterflies in my stomach as we were dancing. It was a great moment and a memory that I am so grateful to have.
I don’t know how bored I was or how bad I wanted to wake up after sleeping for 3 months. I just know that with those two dreams on repeat I could have easily done another 3 months. As much as I like to imagine what I could have been dreaming about while in my coma I also try to imagine the stress, anxiety, worry and sadness my family and friends were feeling. I am so grateful for their patience, love and support. I like to think I was fighting a battle with recovery. Every pleading prayer to Heavenly Father on my behalf, foot rub that made me relax, conversation that made my spirit smile and visitors that kept me company – were the reason I was able to muster enough strength to fight through my recovery.