The wet crumpled body was lifted with careful hands from the twisted wreckage to the waiting gurney.

Flashing red lights alone lit the night and the shining lifeless face.

Much later, the last survivor, lay warm and encircled by a bed of snowy white.

Medical equipment covered every wall that surrounded him.

The flashing lights and soft insistence of the beeping monitor the only visible sign of life.

Several days passed till, late in the night, he regained the merest flicker of consciousness.

He slowly opened his swollen eyes. He was in the hospital, in terrible pain.

He tried desperately to make sense of his surroundings. He was in the ICU with a tube coming from his mouth.

More oxygen tubes were taped to his nostrils and Intravenous lines present in both arms,

Multiple cardiac monitor wires led from his chest, monitoring every vital function.

A nurse hovered over him, her face close to his. Deep concern was etched in her searching eyes.

The terrifying realisation then became obvious. He was in a desperate life-threatening situation.

The nurse was kind and attractive. She leaned even closer, taking his hand.

Her eyes searched his for some possible trace of comprehension of what she was about to tell him.

Only when their eyes truly met did she fix him with her most solemn stare. Her gaze held his as she spoke.

Her speech was slow and clear as she carefully enunciated each word and syllable, "I am sorry to tell you but

you may never feel anything from the waist down."

He struggled for comprehension of this terrible news but through his dry parched throat he managed his

rasping reply, "Well, can I feel your tits then?"