|
CHART #
00799108426 |
PRIMARY FACILITY
Vestibriüm University Hospital |
CODE
6.51 |
ATTENDING PHYSICIAN
-unknown- |
TYPE
sev |
AU
X |
|
DISPOSITION (STATUS)
In progress |
ARTICLE (JOURNAL REF)
Waking Up in Restraints |
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"Yes, something is definitely amiss," I concluded. And, with that, it dawned on me that I was not in a good way. Most people, I suppose, would have made that determination much quicker. I mean, to awake in strange environs, immobilized by wrist and ankle restraints... These things have a tendency to arouse concern in today's educated individual. But I gazed at the ceiling for several minutes, ruminating on abstractions too vague to be coaxed into the conscious realm. (These things -- the abstractions -- they made sense while I was asleep, I'm sure of it. And as they ebbed, I felt a profound frustration in understanding only how important these ideas were.) But when it struck me how unfamiliar the ceiling was... That was when affable delirium vanished, replaced by a more immediate concern (no less perplexing).
Then I noticed the leather cuffs, and my adrenal glands offered to take charge of the situation. "No, I think I'll remain calm. Reason this out." White brick, a stainless steel door, fluorescent illumination, and the faint smell of... Ether? There must some logic behind this. I held out for several seconds before fulfilling my obligation of straining against those bonds, only to confirm they were heavy-duty, industrial restraints (vastly different than the flimsy accoutrements used by my dominatrix). "Yes, something is definitely amiss," I concluded.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a sinewy woman barged in. She had short, auburn hair and distraught eyes, ardently intense; but her attire was no more descript than the room itself. She approached me, wheezing, and her breath quickened as she checked my fastenings. "I... I..." Then she abruptly pushed a small tablet between my lips. I resisted, thrashing violently while clamping my jaw shut, and she countered by attempting to steady my head with her free hand. We struggled for several minutes (it seemed), until she finally backed away and glared at me, the tablet still clenched in her saliva-coated fingers. Her own lips trembled as tears welled in her eyes, and she shrieked, "Why are you so difficult?" Her outburst summoned a second woman, who appeared in the doorway and addressed my erstwhile assailant in a stern tone, "Emma, where's your lithium?" Emma squinted at the discolored pill she had tried to force down my throat, then put it in her own mouth and sulked out of the room.
"I'm sorry," offered the second woman (a doctor, I surmised from the white jacket). "I hope she didn't wake you." I shook my head. "No, I awoke on my own. But why... How did I get here?" The doctor shook her head and sighed, "What happened -- what didn't happen -- last night, or any other night... That's all in the past now. Irrelevant. This is about waking up. You are awake, aren't you?" I shut my eyes and groaned, "I would like to think otherwise." The doctor nodded sympathetically, "Clever." She tugged at one of my wrist cuffs, verifying its fortitude. "Unfortunately, that's not the case," she sighed. "And from the looks of things, I gather you don't remember much. About the abstractions, I mean." I knit my brow, trying to reconcile the detritus of my sleep. "I had ideas -- important ideas -- but they disappeared... Evaporated when I awoke." The doctor nodded again, "They sometimes leave fragments when they retreat -- just enough to torment. Sleep is a fortress riddled with bunkers, impenetrable from the outside. You need to go back." She suddenly clamped my shoulders against the mattress, leaning her weight on me. "Do you understand?" she yelled. "You have to go back to sleep now!" She slapped me hard across the face, then shook me. "Fall back asleep, damn it!"
And I found myself, gazing at the ceiling for several minutes, ruminating on abstractions now solidified. "Yes, something is definite..." A fingertip traced the contours of my jaw, then worked its way between my lips. I licked at it, then bit gently. "Mmmm..." Emma groaned. "You've got no restraint," she whispered. And I detected the faint smell of...