by Noel Mcgivern

Created on: June 07, 2008

Treating Simon Greenwood

I open my eyes to silence and blackness. I can see and hear nothing but the sound of my breathing and movement. Who am I? I don't know my name, age, occupation or marital status? I can recall nothing. My body is heavy and tired but I try to resist the urge to go back to sleep. I try to recall something.
"Good Morning John," a soft female voice is saying. I do not know if she is addressing me. I don't think I'm John. I open my eyes and a nurse is standing over the bed. She is young, with big round eyes and neatly tied back brunette hair.

"How are you, this morning?" she smiles.
"Groggy and confused," I reply.
"The night staff had to give you a pretty strong sedative. It can leave you feeling that way."
"It seems to have wiped my memory."
"I'm afraid you've had that problem for a little while."
"What's caused it?"
"We don't know. Sit up, and let me arrange you're pillows behind you. Your breakfast will be along soon."

As I finish breakfast the nurse announces "Your wife is here to see you, John."
A slim, very pretty blonde in her late twenties comes into the room. She doesn't have the sort of face or body many men would easily forget, yet I do not feel the least flicker of recognition. She kissed my mouth and still I felt nothing. I am attracted to her. I desire her in the way men desire actresses or glamour models but not as a man desires his wife.

I stop myself from saying "I'm not John and you're not my wife." Recalling the total darkness and silence I sense that it might not be safe to do so. I know there is something seriously wrong. As "my wife" draws back from me I notice that her hairstyle and the nurse's are both exactly the same. Neither of them has a hair out of place.

"Do we have any children?" I ask.
"No. We plan to. For now we have a wire-haired terrier called Edric." I can't even picture what a wire-haired terrier looks like.

"So what do you remember?" the psychologist asks me.
"Nothing."
He scribbles something on his pad.
"When was the Battle of Hastings?"
"1066."
"The American Declaration of Independence?"
"1776"
"You remember dates."
"What is the chemical composition of water?"
I am stumped. "I don't know," I say.
"It is a letter, then a number, then a letter."
I still don't know.
"H2O" he says.
I repeat what he has said but while I recognize the dates I do not recognize this.
What do the letters stand for?" I ask.
"Let's not worry about that now."

In my neat home I still recall nothing and nothing seems right. On the internet I type in H2O. The message

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