If there was a Trades Descriptions Act definition of awake, I’m not sure Deb would quite meet it yet. I arrived, walked in and called her pet name – instant stir, eyes half opened, and tried to follow me round the room – without success. Still got a mouth full of tubes, of course, so no hope of verbal response. She was aware it was me, and I gave her simple news about all the people rooting for her, how the hospital thought she’d recover well, and the gendarme had said it was not her fault. Result – snore! I sat for about an hour, until they needed to work on her, and as usual the expected 20 mins they needed took more like 50. When I went back in, she was clearly gone again.
Yes, it’s undoubtedly progress; no, she’s not really with-it at all. It’ll get better!