Wednesday, October 8, 2008

10-6-o8 Part Two and the Sun Sets

I’d been hauled in, interrogated, cuffed and booked, and they wanted to know if I had been in there before. Then they led away, disrobed me and re-clothed me to be poked and prodded for the sums my come-up-ends.

The lot of them, everyone, wanted to know, “What’s wrong with you? I want to see some ID. How’d you get here? How’d you get this? What’s it feel like?” Questions, questions, questions?
I told them, “Feels like my head’s been hit with the edge of a 2x4.”
I was put under hot lights and relentlessly grilled over and over again. They wanted answers to some questions I had no answers for. Seeing one driller while cuffed again and put under pressure for more personal answers, from another. So much/to much repeated useless talk, talk, talk!
~~~~~~~~~~
Now if I weren’t in enough of an emotional state being delivered to where I didn’t want to be, Bro’ hung around more than long enough, to watch my suffering. It was getting near onto 4:00 AM before he logically abandoned me to my own devices, especially when I had asked him to leave me to my punishment earlier at 3:00 PM.
His leaving me there, in that torturous place he was to have missed all the best sadistic parts.
~~~~~~~~~~
All alone then, I was shown to my own private torturing cell where I was subjected to wires pasted all over my body. I was elctro-sillier-gramed. Still more wires added were intended to monitor my activities. All hooked up, let one bell or whistle go off and I was surrounded by uniformed personal. I couldn’t have tunneled out of there had I tried. Starved and dehydrated I knew I’d have lacked the energy to complete such a project. All I could do was wait and watch for my chance?
Then I was set upon from both side two more wimmen, one on either side, taping and putting clear piping into my vanes. I’m thinking, “After all this how, how will I ever explain all the red and blue bruises, the pin and punch marks up the insides of my arms?” One gall was sucking the very free flowing essence from a vein in one arm. Another miss was inducing a clear fluid into my other arm. I look up at what looked like a clear dush bag what was filled with something called “dextrose?” Were they trying to sweeten me up? Giving them one of my best puzzled looks, I got an explanation, “We’re giving you this for what we’re going to do for you. It‘s something to protect your kidneys.” ”I’m going to get a belt?” I asked myself. There was naught but helplessly wait to see and feel what they’s was going to do with me next. “They surely couldn’t have been sweetening me disposition up, for what?” My mind warped, I was actually enjoying all that attention?
“It was a Hell of a way to go” all I could think to myself. Surrounded by and under the watchful eyes of so many gorgeous wimmen. If it weren’t for the torturous aspects this might have been a preview of Heaven? But no, I know there’s not such place, but I could dream-on, they not knowing what was going on unseen in my lecherous mind.
~~~~~~~~~~
All what had happened to me, the rest of my last night’s adventures, I don’t want it carried back to my bride. I bore my pain in self imposed silence. Alone in my thoughts I was not once but twice placed on a heavy slab. There on my head was torturously blocked as if held fast in a big vice were upon I was laid forcibly rolled through whirling wheels what had encircled my head seemingly to try my resolve. These wimmen called it a funny thing something what didn’t look at all catty to me they had put me through, they was scanning me brain to see what I was made of.
The first time I was told they wanted to see if anything big was there. Then given a rest. And my rest’s? I was reconnected to my body’s imposed wirings and plumbing’s.
I must have been given a reprieve? I was freed the wiring and pipes and take for a walk in the company of two blonds. One a natural blue eyed miss the other a brown eyed mystery out of a bottle (her roots needed touching up). I was walked down the hall. The same hall I was lead in. I was brought to a red line on the ceiling. “That’s different,” I thought to myself. I was told, stand behind the red line on the ceiling. That was silly, I could never have walked on that ceiling. I was no fly or was I? Was this a nightmare? “Cover your left eye and look at the eye chart down the hall.”
I covered my left eye and asked “What chart.” I can’t see nothing with my right eye. I’ve lost most it’s sight to macular degeneration.”
“Okay what can you see with your left eye?” blue eyes asked me. And I went right to line 4, Gave my best shot at line 5, and possibly messed up a good bluff looking al line 6. Admittedly there were sums of other fine lines I’d rather have looked at instead of partially invisible eye charts. Truthfully there were other finer things to look after with what sight I had left. (sigh) And another, newer curiosity getting the better of me, I had to ask about this most unusual middle of the night activity, “What’s this all about?”
“We want to know what effect the 2x4 blow had on your head?” blue eyes remarked.
“2x4 blow?” I asked, (condensing some of the conversation) going on to explain, “Somebody asked me what my headache felt like. I told them my head felt like I was repeatedly hit on with a 2x4. That’s all! It was a simple explanation.”
People all around me, I hadn’t noticed, I was then feeling the draft of my ass hanging out for all to see. I couldn’t have been escorted fast enough back to my private sanctuary where I was reconnected to all the on and off tentacles of the night.
It wasn’t long and I was once again removed my now sanctuary for the second session on the rake. My head blocked into position, the same Miss this time injected my free arm with a fluid leaving me a dreadful feeling heat coursing through my veins. My ears held firm by the blocks felt as though they were on fire, my torso felt as if I was lying naked somewhere absorbing an instant sunburn.* Oh how I longed for and surprised it effects were soon over.
It’d be the Sun’s rising hour before I got some sleep and then I woke up just knowing I was doing so beyond my habitual time. But, it was worth it I was to be freed and could finally have something: a glass of water and two cups juice. I remained hungry for another couple three hours even well after my given reprieve. I knew I’d see Shorthorn country again. BGKC.
Fernan
PS: Last’s part three coming up next.
*(It seems somebody wanted some more detailed pictures of the smaller things what weren’t inside my head.)

2 comments:

Donna said...

Cliff HATED those hospital gowns that don't cover your backside. He always asked the nurses to get him another gown that he'd put on backwards. We women get used to such things early on, and aren't much bothered by our butts shining.

loopymamain06 said...

I jest knew it!
You'll do anything to be around nurses......must be an ole coot thing.....;)
loopy