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Bright lights.

That's what Ronald McGuire remembered seeing, followed by the momentary sensation of floating before a dramatic crash and the sound of what seemed to be the world exploding in his ears before everything went black. It was a miracle that anyone lived afterwards, though he supposed fortune often smiled on the chosen few. He just thought he wasn't one of those.

"W-Where...?" he began slowly, his mouth barely functioning and his words were choked behind gauze and the sheer taste of a metal and plastic tube combination shoved down his windpipe. He could barely move his head to see where, or whom, was in the room with him, much less what type of room he was in, but the sound of a scurrying person leaving the room told him that his noise was very unexpected. He was smart enough to figure that out.

Ronald also was smart enough to figure out that the doctors who came in were just as shocked as he was and quickly moved, flashing lights in his eyes and making sounds that seemed like words, at least they sounded like words, but nothing made any sense to him at all. He wondered where his parents were, where his younger sister and brother were, or what had happened to the other people in the car that smacked into them. He wondered a lot of things, though, and mostly, he wondered why everything seemed so completely bizarre and alien to him. He couldn't see, he couldn't move, he couldn't even breathe easily, nothing worked and try as he might, his body seemed to refuse to listen to even the simplest of commands.

Oh shit, am I paralyzed? Why can't I move?

An older man leaned in to the limited field of view that Ronald and smiled genuinely, though from his perspective, the smirk also belayed something else entirely. "Take it easy, Mr. McGuire. You're in for a hell of a ride."

Shouldn't that be I've been IN a hell of a ride? he wondered but his thoughts drifted as the medicine slipped in through the IV Tube and the last sight before everything went dark as the man nodding.

****

"...So, I've been out for..?"

"About 3 weeks, actually," replied the nurse, checking his pulse for the fourth time in an hour before she made a note in her chart and then turned and smiled reassuringly. "It's been pretty extensive, the damage done to you in the car accident. I'm sure you have a lot of questions but best to leave it to the doctors, they can help you better understand what's going on."

Ronald still found himself unable to move or really do much else but his mind was fresh, it was working, and he felt he needed to ask something.

*****

Note: This is an homage to various stories, including "The Transplant" by Wassel on writing.com. I recommend checking those out. The story starts slowly at first to create an atmosphere but will begin pretty quickly afterwards.

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