In article <bkl57fhdcgjovres41lmb7h6cg0hmk6cdn@4ax.com>,
Capuchin <NoReplies@jymes.com> 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.
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.
On Thu, 19 Mar 2020 05:08:35 GMT, djheydt@kithrup.com (Dorothy J
Heydt) wrote:
In article <bkl57fhdcgjovres41lmb7h6cg0hmk6cdn@4ax.com>,
Capuchin <NoReplies@jymes.com> 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.
In article <j0367f1iajmm7ll1oep2tuce3k14gv26d9@4ax.com>,
Capuchin <NoReplies@jymes.com> wrote:
On Thu, 19 Mar 2020 05:08:35 GMT, djheydt@kithrup.com (Dorothy J
Heydt) wrote:
In article <bkl57fhdcgjovres41lmb7h6cg0hmk6cdn@4ax.com>,
Capuchin <NoReplies@jymes.com> 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.
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