Disponible en: Catalan Spanish

Welcome to hell. September 2010.

The worst thing can happen to you when you wake up isn’t finding yourself disabled, tetraplegic and with assisted breathing, crippled from the neck down, being barely able to move the last phalanx of your left index finger;

… nor being unable to breathe, because a hell breathing machine does it for you, swelling and emptying your lungs through an open hole in your throat, at its rhythm, implacable, denying you even the right to sigh;

… nor feeling at all times that intense cramp all over your body, as if you were in a freezer, connected to 220 volts, and a current of boiling oil flowed through your bones, while a swarm of rabid wasps celebrate an eternal banquet with your spinal cord; this damn neuropathic pain that doesn’t diminish even when you’re sleeping, plunging you in unbearable nightmares where your body is abducted by a strange electric creature living in the ceiling of the room where they keep you alive;

… nor having to communicate by closing your eyes, once to say yes, twice to say no, while your interlocutor points out the letters of the alphabet on a sheet of paper;

… nor even trying to cry and scream with all your strength… alone… in the dark… and not being able to hear your own voice… because you no longer have; only the machines that keep your body alive.

The worst thing that can happen to you when you wake up is to be told that all this will be like this forever.