Life Blood
"Where's the damned doctor?"

"Where's the damned doctor?"

While the physician was being summoned, he had a chance to study her. Yes, there definitely was some move­ment behind her eyelids. And her regular breathing had be­come less measured, as though she were fighting to overcome her autonomic nervous system and challenge life on her own.

While the physician was being summoned, he had a chance to study her. Yes, there definitely was some move­ment behind her eyelids. And her regular breathing had be­come less measured, as though she were fighting to overcome her autonomic nervous system and challenge life on her own.

Finally an overworked Pakistani intern arrived. He pro­ceeded to fiddle with the monitors, doing something Lou did not understand. Then without warning—and certainly attrib­utable to nothing the physician did—Sarah opened her eyes.

Finally an overworked Pakistani intern arrived. He pro­ceeded to fiddle with the monitors, doing something Lou did not understand. Then without warning—and certainly attrib­utable to nothing the physician did—Sarah opened her eyes.

Lou, who had not seen those eyes for several years, caught himself feasting on their rich, aquatic blue. He looked into them, but they did not look back. They were focused on infinity, adrift in a lost sea of their own making. They stared at him a moment, then vanished again behind her eyelids.

Lou, who had not seen those eyes for several years, caught himself feasting on their rich, aquatic blue. He looked into them, but they did not look back. They were focused on infinity, adrift in a lost sea of their own making. They stared at him a moment, then vanished again behind her eyelids.

He told me all this and then his voice trailed off, his de­spair returning. . . .

He told me all this and then his voice trailed off, his de­spair returning. . . .

"Lou, it's a start. Whatever happens is bound to be slow. But this could be the beginning. . . ."

"Lou, it's a start. Whatever happens is bound to be slow. But this could be the beginning. . . ."

We both knew what I was saying was perilously close to wishful thinking, but nobody in the room was under oath. For the moment, though, she was back in her coma, as though nothing 
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