This is where I come in. My name is Simon. I have not always been Simon, and at this point in this tale, I suppose I really had no name. My birth experience is probably not all that different from anyone else’s. Like most newborns, I awoke slowly in a hospital bed to a reality that was completely new to me. I could not speak, nor could I comprehend who I was within that world. Surrounded by people I did not know, and with no way to communicate my confusion, I was a sullen infant. My memories of that time are only islands of consciousness in a sea of painful confusion. My body hurt. Breathing hurt. My head ached continually. Despite the combined effects of brain damage and narcotic pain meds, the doctors and therapists were no doubt used to cases such as mine. Traumatic brain injuries from motorcycle accidents, drug overdose, or strokes are common.
Category Archives: Simon’s Fall
I am a five year old man, living somewhat uncomfortably in the body of a dead man named Douglas Grant.
Mr. Grant died when he was 37 years old. He fell from the roof of the New China Buffet restaurant early on a Thursday afternoon in late June five years ago. No one knows why he was on that roof. The papers hinted at drugs. I am sure his family had some theories. Maybe he simply snapped. Whatever the real reason, it was dashed from his brain when his skull impacted the concrete.
Doug did not die on the spot. Both the police and the paramedics were at the restaurant before he fell. Someone had reported a man atop a restaurant downtown. After an airlift to a regional medical facility, Mr. Grant lingered for some time in the intensive care unit. It looked as though he would recover. After several weeks, he was responding to stimuli. He could squeeze fingers and would move of his own accord. The doctors urged cautious optimism, and his family began to hope. Unfortunately, it soon became evident that Douglas would never recover. Douglas Grant was dead.