They say it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m not sure exactly what it was that triggered my infarction. Moments before all had been well and then suddenly without warning my heart was substantially detrimentally different. Where before hope coloured the lens through which I perceived the world, now all manner of thing was, from that myocardial marker, distorted and opaque to me. It was a hernia in my chest which arrested and interrupted my day, threatening every day thereafter. More days have passed since that day than I am now able to re-collect. I simply lie here waiting. Occasionally I hear a familiar voice or sense the touch of someone who I know I have touched before. As I concentrate on tuning in to that brief impression, inevitably their presence fades and I am again left alone. In this in-between place all is not well. I lie here searching for memories of someone or something to remember but my mind presents itself as a canvas primed for a graphic retelling. I wait in this place of nothing, disconnected and suddenly I know, I might be dead! Is this what death is like? How long has it been since I encountered the familiar. Have I, ever, or did I simply imagine I once had? Suddenly I feel much worse than I did before. I consider whether I have ever felt this way but I cannot remember and even as I dwell on what might have been before, it washes over me again, waves of forgetfulness. They thieve my sense of memory and I am left waiting, on the shore of nothing. Suddenly I am aware of a light pulsating and warm somewhere on my periphery. It is approaching me and the tension and torment that I was feeling fades too and I think this must be it. I must have died. Am I really dead? It seems unreal. A woman touches me and I see in my mind a familiar face and suddenly the image disappears, but her touch remains and then it tardily fades. I search myself again for her face but it has gone. I cannot remember. Is this hell? The light is almost upon me and I know fear. I cannot sense my body but my alertness is acute as if waiting for an inevitable impact and then just as suddenly as my consciousness identified the presence of the light it too has gone and I am again alone, here in this place of nothing. All is not well and all is not well and all manner of thing remains unwell.