Cole

Home

The dreams continued for some time.  Much of the dreaming was about Jihad.  The task was to go after the “infidels”,  and there were methods to fight and how to protect and be protected.  I envisioned making bombs and wearing a bomb belt and going out of this world in glory.  I did not understand much of the reasons for it but knew how to do it and train others to do it.  I was strong.

Then the dreams would switch back to school days and being with boys and girls and laughing again.  These were the fun dreams.  I was also cared for by my parents and friends and would do most anything for them.  There was lots of things we liked to do.  We would do pranks and like to tease people.  I dreamed of the girl with the dirty blonde hair and great smile.  She always made me happy.

“Cole!” a man’s voice called out.  

Somehow this did not fit in the dream, but I tried to make it fit.  The kids were trying to get a fire started for a bonfire and were stoking the coals.

“Cole!”   

What is a cole?  Do they mean charcoal?

“Cole!”    “WAKE UP!   

Suddenly I was being shaken and my eyes began to open.  The light was bright.  “Ughh...whaa?..... What Cole?” I said.

“You!  Wake up son!   Don’t keep sleeping on like this!”

I did not react.

“Wake up!  The doctor said it is important not to sleep too much.  You need to start exercising your brain again”

“Why do I need to exercise my brain?  I want to sleep.”  I said .

“Cole, you had a serious fall when rock climbing and had an even more serious concussion.  You have been in coma.  The doctor had to do some surgery on your head to relieve some of the pressure on the brain.  You now need to start moving again”

“Son -- please try to sit up!   I will then give you some water to drink.  We will take it slow”

I looked at the person talking to me.  I had no idea who he was and presented a puzzled look towards him.

“I am your father, son.  Look at me.  You have had a serious injury.  We need to get you better.  I can help you”

I did not recognize this man at all.  He was about 30 years old, partially bald with dark brown hair, brown eyes and light complexion.  He was obviously a kind of business man as he had on a grey suit and was skinny and not really built for sports or anything strenuous.

I just looked at him and did not say anything.  I was totally confused, but my thinking was not clear either.  I would try to concentrate on something and then I would be thinking of some other random thing and could not remember what I started to think about.  Maybe that is what early stage Alzheimers is like, but I don’t think I am that old.  My hands don’t look that old.