From: djheydt@kithrup.com
In article ,
Capuchin wrote:
>On Thu, 19 Mar 2020 05:08:35 GMT, djheydt@kithrup.com (Dorothy J
>Heydt) wrote:
>
>>In article ,
>>Capuchin wrote:
>>>I woke up suddenly, not because of any shock or external influence,
>>>just one of those transitionless deeply asleep -> deeply asleep ->
>>>deeply asleep -> fully awake times which are very rare for me.
>>>
>>>I was in bed, halfway sitting up. The room was maybe 14'x24' with
>>>mottled light-brown wallpaper. At the far end of the room, the ceiling
>>>was flat, but the wall was cut out to resemble a peak, sort of like a
>>>gothic arch without curves. My first impression was they were trying
>>>to pull off sort of an Aztec motif.
>>>
>>>There was a feeling about the place -- this wasn't a home or hotel.
>>>Each of those has their own vibe. This was totally different. I
>>>somehow just knew that people didn't live there.
>>>
>>>Then I noticed the woman standing beside the bed. Maybe 30, long hair,
>>>trim, wearing a black blouse/tunic with an impossible number of bright
>>>brass zippers. She asked my name.
>>>
>>>I had no idea. Literally! I was thinking clearly, all my faculties
>>>were fully operational, but I had no idea who I might be.
>>>
>>>Without really giving me time to answer, she asked if I knew where I
>>>was.
>>>
>>>Another total blank.
>>>
>>>'This is a science fiction setting,' came to my mind. That opened up
>>>worlds of possibilities, most of them not good. It seemed imperative I
>>>not use the words: police, Earth, or brain. Why those words? No idea,
>>>it just felt like really bad things would happen if I 'revealed' that
>>>I knew about such things.
>>>
>>>My mind's eye gave me a flash of a piece of paper with the name: Fred
>>>A (something, something something . . .) across the top in a bold font
>>>with a thick red line underneath.
>>>
>>>I said: "Fred" even though it didn't seem right.
>>>
>>>Then I was gone.
>>>
>>>Woke up again minutes? hours? days? later. Same place.
>>>
>>>This time, the woman was sitting on a built-in desk under the arch.
>>>
>>>"What's your name?" she asked.
>>>
>>>Again, nothing. My mind's eye showed me the paper again, with a few
>>>more letters of the name, but I didn't recognize it, and it didn't
>>>feel right.
>>>
>>>"Do you know where you are?"
>>>
>>>Still blank.
>>>
>>>I tried to pull it together, wanting to prove I wasn't insane. Or, at
>>>least, not that insane. Remembering to not use the forbidden words, I
>>>said: "If you have people who watch over you, protect you, you should
>>>call them and have me restrained."
>>>
>>>"Do you want to hurt me that much?" she asked.
>>>
>>>"No, but if I don't know who I am or how I got here, I'm not in
>>>control." The fully-formed idea popped into my head that someone had
>>>brain-washed me/implanted something in my head that made me their
>>>puppet/an alternate consciousness had taken over my body for a while.
>>>Of course, I wasn't about to tell her that! "It's better to tie me up
>>>until we find out what's going on."
>>>
>>>My motive behind that was twofold: if someone really was controlling
>>>me, I'd be blamed for anything "I" did, and it might build some trust
>>>in that I recognized I might be a risk and was using what little
>>>control I might have to warn them to not trust me.
>>>
>>>Then I was gone, again.
>>>
>>>The next time I woke up, I knew I was in the hospital and had been for
>>>several days. I even remembered my name (not that it's all that
>>>special as far as names go, but I'm rather used to it and am too old
>>>to start breaking in a new one).
>>>
>>>I rather vividly recall going to the emergency room because I couldn't
>>>breathe, but only tiny bits and pieces of the first three days there
>>>until, late on the third day, I was on my hands and knees on the
>>>floor. I'd ripped off my gown, the ekg tabs, the blood oxygen sensor,
>>>all three bracelets (i.d. and 2 allergy lists), and my IV. I was
>>>trying to crawl to the door, but it was an impossible distance away.
>>>Then three nurses ran in . . . and that was all until I woke up in the
>>>strange room with a woman asking me questions I couldn't possibly
>>>answer.
>>>
>>>I'll probably never know exactly what happened. Can pulmonary
>>>edema/pneumonia cause such delirium? Would it last nearly a full day
>>>and then disappear so completely? Did my little touch of PTSD make it
>>>seem like a good idea to go elsewhere, and they dosed me with
>>>something to get me back into bed and turn me into a meek little
>>>patient? Did they give me a medication they shouldn't, and I reacted
>>>to it badly (like the way Demerol really messes with my head)?
>>>
>>>The good side is I had an experience similar to many sf scenarios.
>>>
>>>The bad side is I didn't get a grip on the situation like I should
>>>have. I can blame it on the short length of time I was awake, so I was
>>>out before I could come up with a decent strategy, but basically, I
>>>feel like I failed a really important test of my ability to cope with
>>>being beamed onto a spaceship.
>>
>>Please, tell me this was all a dream (or series of dreams) and
>>that you have not been delirious with coronavirus. Or anything
>>else, for that matter.
>
>Actually happened.
>
>Not coronavirus -- pulmonary edema/pneumonia. Spent a total of eight
>days in the hospital.
Zowie. I'm glad you're better now.
--
Dorothy J. Heydt
Vallejo, California
djheydt at gmail dot com
www.kithrup.com/~djheydt/
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