I woke in Room 782 at West Reef Hospital with a headache, blurred vision, and feeling as if ten guys had done a train on my body. A male nurse the color of dark chocolate stood next to me and said in a deep voice, “Mr. Shawford, welcome back to the real world.”
I sputtered words out of my mouth that neither of us could even begin to understand. My mouth was dry, I felt my heart race, and the Florida light that found its way into the hospital room was blinding what little vision I could muster. I blinked a number of times, swallowed dry air, and felt pulverized in the hospital bed, beaten to my core. Then I tried to sit up, but the African-American nurse said, “Stay down, Mr. Shawford. You need lots of rest. Why don’t you drink this?” He passed me a glass of water, which I consumed without
