“Do you know where you are?” the doctor asked for the umpteenth time.

The man in his early forties looked down his arms at the tubes, the IV catheter, and the electrodes attached to his body. He gazed at the sterile environment, the dull walls.

“A hospital?” he said, more a question than a statement.

“Do you know which one?”

The man looked around and found his wife’s face in the confusion. Her scared face startled him.

“No…” His answer was as hesitant as the thoughts running through his head.

“You’re at the Abbott Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis. What’s your name?”

“Eric Bloom!” Finally, Eric found something that wasn’t floating, something his mind could pinpoint.

“And your date of birth?”

“August nineteenth…1982!”

“How old are you?”

Confusion sat in again; he should know this.

“What year is it?”

Eric drew blanks and looked at the electrodes attached to his body; again, he found his wife’s startled face.

“Susan,” he thought, “my wife, mother of my children, born October the third, 1984. Why is she so scared?”

“Is it a stroke? Is he going to die?” she asked.

“Your husband seems to be experiencing an episode of TGA, Transient Global Amnesia,” the doctor said. “It’s a rare condition where short-term memory is inaccessible, and the ability to form new memories is nonexistent during the episode. The CT scan is normal, and we will schedule an MRI to be sure, but I’m fairly confident there is nothing to worry about. This condition usually resolves within a few hours, and there are typically no long-term effects.”

“I’m fine,” Eric said, “There is nothing to worry about.”

“Honey,” Susan sighed, “You don’t remember what you had for dinner, you don’t remember who won the election…”

“Election? It’s done? Who won?”

“It was the day before yesterday, honey, and no, not your guy, I’m afraid.”

“Seriously?”

“You should go home and get some rest,” the doctor said. “We’ll notify you if there’s any change. You might want to leave him a note or a text telling him where he is and what is happening to him. He won’t remember this conversation in a few minutes.”

“I think I’ll sit here for a while, just…I find it more comforting.”

The doctor left Susan and Eric alone. They sat for a few minutes.

“Where am I?” Eric wondered.

“You’re at the hospital, honey, experiencing amnesia, but the doctor says you will be fine. Try to get some sleep.”

Eric closed his eyes and slid into an uncomfortable sleep.

Susan sent her mother a text message to tell her what was happening, and not to tell the kids until the morning. Hopefully, the situation, ‘episode,’ the doctor had called it, would be over by then. She tried to find a comfortable position in her chair, but hospitals rarely offer that kind of comfort.

She browsed through her phone, but nothing seemed to catch her interest. Her mind went back to trying to understand her husband’s condition.

There was a light knock at the door.

“Hi, I’m Elise,” the nurse said in a chippy voice, “I’ll be looking after both of you tonight. I’ve seen this a few times before, and honey, it’s nothing to worry about, ok?”

Susan wasn’t sure what to make of her. She was maybe in her mid-twenties, her skin deep brown, almost as the night herself, and on any other day, her beauty would have absorbed her, but tonight, she thought her skirt was too skimpy for a nurse, her massive chest too exposed under her sage-green uniform, and too provocative for a caregiver. Her bright red lipstick was absolutely unfitting. Elise had long, braided hair in a ponytail, her nurse’s uniform only halfway buttoned, and she showed way more skin than was suitable in a hospital. Susan found her directness slightly discomforting.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Elise continued, seeing Susan’s worried face, “Your husband is as happy as can be, and you can get away with anything while this is happening. That’s comforting. Or perhaps intriguing, even?”

Elise walked around Eric’s bed and stood behind Susan. She put her hands on the worried wife’s shoulders and gently rubbed her stressed neck.

She leaned in and whispered in Susan’s ear, “So, were you guys fucking each other’s brains out before this happened? That’s one of the major triggers for these episodes.”

“What the fuck?” Susan sat up and stared at the black woman’s face.

Elise had those big, lazy, sexy brown eyes, and her nurse uniform did nothing to hide her massive chest; nothing about her appearance put Susan at ease.

“Relax, honey, I'm just trying to make you comfortable while getting a better picture of what’s happened.”

She walked over to Eric and put her hand on his arm.

“He’s a handsome man, your husband. You guys been married long?”

“Six years this month,” Susan said.

Elise bent over the bed to check on the IV catheter in Eric’s arm. Susan watched as her short skirt lifted slightly, exposing the curvature of the nurse’s buttocks. As the nurse turned, she caught Susan’s eyes on her behind, and her lips formed a satisfied smile.

She turned to face her patient’s wife.

“So…you guys were fucking, weren’t you?”

“Well, yes, we had sex,” Susan admitted.

“That explains his hard-on,” Elise smiled, “So, he didn’t get to cum, did he?”

“That’s hardly…professional.”

Elise laughed, leaned in, and looked into Susan’s eyes.

“You should make him cum now; he deserves that,” she breathed into Susan’s face, “And you deserve a good time as well, honey,” she whispered to her ear.

Susan’s mind was about to explode. Her husband lay in front of her, not knowing where he was, or any other recent events, and then this nurse practically assaulted her. It would have been alarming and unsettling if not for the near-full bottle of wine in her system and the fact that she was still horny.

“So,” Elise whispered, “Are you going to suck him off, or do you want me to do it?”

“Wait, what?” Susan tried to grasp the situation.

“A nurse’s life is dull; we never get to play, but…this is just too good an opportunity to pass, wouldn’t you say? And my job is to look after your husband, right?”

Susan knew all her thoughts were wrong, it would practically be rape, but she and Eric had talked about spicing things up, and they both had weak spots for black girls. She wanted to watch her husband sucked by this woman.

“I…would love to watch you suck Eric’s cock,” she heard herself say.

“Oh, good! Feel free to join in any time!”

Elise sat on Eric’s bed and pulled the covers down. Her face lit up in a delighted smile seeing his cock tent his boxers. She gently pulled his underwear down, leaned in, and kissed his throbbing member.”

“Oh, I can smell you on him! I might have to eat your pussy when I’m done here,” she moaned as she wrapped her lips around the head of Eric’s cock.

Eric’s eyes shot open.

“Hey, honey!” Susan smiled. “You’re at the hospital, and this is Nurse Elise! She’s just checking your vitals!”

“Susan? What’s going on? My cock is in her mouth!”

“Yes, she’s very thorough! Look at those bright red lips around you! Doesn’t it feel great?”

Susan leaned in and kissed her husband, then let her gaze wander to the gorgeous black woman sucking her husband’s cock.

“You have amnesia, baby, and none of this will register with you, but I can tell you’re enjoying yourself. Is she good? Better than me?”

“Oh, God, she’s amazing honey!”

Elise let Eric’s cock out of her mouth with a slurp and stared at Susan.

“His cock is wonderful. I might have to fuck him, if that’s ok with you?”

Susan didn’t hesitate, “Yes, fuck his brains out!”

Elise quickly lifted herself onto the bed and straddled Eric; she pulled her panties to the side and impaled herself on his cock, riding him hard.

“Susan? What’s going on?” Eric stuttered, “Why is this black woman fucking me?”

“Oh, honey, dear! This is Charlotte, the prostitute we picked up to spice things up for our wedding anniversary!”

“Um…why do I have these electrodes attached? There’s even an IV?”

“Charlotte specializes in nurse fetish, honey, and she really likes to deliver an authentic experience!”

“Oh, Susan, you need to learn to ride cock like that.”

“I’m taking notes, baby, but she is a professional, remember.”

Susan couldn’t take it any longer; she stood and pulled her pants down and let herself be overwhelmed at how soaked her panties were.

“Oh, fuck, Eric, it’s so hot seeing you fucked by another woman!”

“Who is she?” Eric asked.

“She’s Amanda; she’s the receptionist at our hotel. Remember we asked her to join us in our room when her shift ended?”

“I can’t recall…”

“Oh, honey, you do have amnesia, but you often do. It's too bad you won’t remember tonight, yes?”

“Oh, that explains a lot!” Eric said with a smile as he was cumming.

“Is it ok if I eat your cum out of Sharon’s black pussy, baby?”

Eric scanned the dull and sterile room. To his right, there was a sink, a mirror, and a shower curtain. The big clock on the wall said 2:35, but he couldn’t determine if it was day or night. He looked down at his arm; there was an IV catheter stuck in it and electrodes taped to his upper body.

“Oh, God! I’m in a hospital,” he thought.

A black, gorgeous woman was sitting on his bed, dressed in a nurse’s uniform, moaning loudly. Between her legs, he could see the head of a woman buried in the black woman’s sex. Her hair reminded him of his wife’s.

“Excuse me?” he said, “Where am I?”

The nurse turned to him with big eyes.

“I’m your nurse, Elise. You’re at the Abbott Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis and experiencing Transient Global Amnesia. I will be right with you, but right now, your wife is making me cum!”

The nurse grabbed the head of the woman eating her out and moaned loudly as Eric dozed off to sleep.

***

Eric Bloom woke up in a hospital room and gazed confusedly at his surroundings. The big clock on the wall said 9:40. His eyes found his nightstand, which had a note in his wife Susan’s handwriting attached to it. He grabbed the piece of paper and unfolded it.

“Hi, honey!

I’m sorry you’re waking up alone at the Abbott Northwestern Hospital. I stayed with you most of the night. You’ve had an episode of something called Transient Global Amnesia, and the doctors say you will be fine. In short, you’ve had a moment of complete loss of short-term memory and haven’t been able to retain any new memories. It started last night, just after dinner (and hot sex!), and the ambulance picked you up shortly after nine.

You have been scheduled for an MRI today, and I’m sure the fantastic doctors and staff at the hospital will fill you in on everything.

Love you dearly, call me when you wake up!

Love, Susan”

Eric found his cell phone, which had one unread message.

“Eric, you’ve had an episode of Transient Global Amnesia and are at the Abbott Northwestern Hospital. Call me when you wake up! Love you!”

Eric phoned his wife, whose voice didn’t take long to greet him.

“Hi, honey! How are you?”

“Confused,” Eric admitted.

“Just try and relax; I think they must run an MRI on you today before you can leave. I’ll be there…mmm…in a little while!”

As Susan hung up with her husband, Elise’s head popped up between her legs.

“Eric’s awake? You got to go?”

“He can wait…make me cum again?”

***

Thank you for reading. I appreciate a like if you found the story interesting. Leave me a comment and let me know what works and what doesn’t.

TGA is a genuine thing, as I just discovered this week. It will affect the people close to you more than yourself. The onset is quick, and the symptoms might easily be confused with those of a stroke, but with significant differences: TGA—the afflicted will have complete knowledge and accessibility to their long-term memory, themselves, and things like date of birth, etc. There are no physical signs, such as loss of muscle control, droopy face, etc.

It can be very difficult for the person afflicted to orient themselves during an episode, leaving a note and/or a text on their phone explaining what has happened can be very helpful.