June 1 2018

Episode 3

It's a hat trick

After two consecutive visits to the hospital, I was once again given the option to stay home from school. Mom was a bit reluctant to send me back right away, she would keep me home for a few days. I understand now, after being a parent myself, that you can't protect your children from every thing. I can still remember dad's voice. He'd always say, "Hey, you guys, quit horsing around." We never did though, quit "horsing around" that is. Staying home from school all day gave this little horse a bunch of energy to blow off by the time my brothers got home.

There was a little bedroom, to the left, at the top of the stairs on 1140 Garnet, it had a thin spooky closet that ran adjacent to the bathtub wall, there was a window on the north wall, with wispy curtains hanging from it, in the next episode you'll learn the truth about their disappearance. There was a dresser against the bathroom wall and a bed along the wall that separated this room from mom and dad's bedroom. I can't remember if it was Tony or Lui I was "horsing around" with, and I can't recall if the bed was a trampoline or a football field. Tony and Lui were my heroes growing up. I figured they were so smart, they had placed pillows on the floor in anticipation of a fall from the bed. The plan had worked great, the pillows had cushioned a number of falls and each time we would pat ourselves on the back for the genius of it. Then, I suppose I could say, I was bucked off the horse I was horsing around on. Should have listened to my dad, or that Mr. Burns guy, he said something about the "best laid plans of mice and men", ( there always has to be some brainiac who states something just to have some poor sucker prove the point), the "Gang aft a-gley" part is my face hitting the dresser before it hit the pillows. Maybe if he hadn't written it to a mouse. Any way, I broke my new nose, again, time to get another one. Poor mom, she held her little boy with the swollen head while we waited for the limousine.

I sat in the back on the way to the hospital, I was hoping to squeeze under the front seat so they couldn't find me, as small as I was I could only get my legs under.

The admitting staff were prepared when I was admitted. They taped my hands together when they were putting my identification bracelet on. They were full of themselves with pride, not so much when they realized they should have thought about taping my ankles. It took them 15 minutes to catch me, would have been longer, I ran out of breath...I couldn't breathe through my nose. They had me surrounded. My attempted escape had caused my eyes to swell again, I could barely see. I started torpedo punching and kicking air, I was tiring when I heard pop...pop...pop,pop. My assailants were wearing bubble wrap... very clever. After struggling to get me on the gurney, they duct taped my whole body down. I don't really blame them, they wouldn't have had enough staff to get the mask on me this time. I never did get the final count, but there were well over a hundred holes in that ceiling tile. My gurney was on the move again. From the looks on the faces of the surgery team, they were quite pleased I was immobilized. Even then, they approached me with caution, and...the lights went out. 

It had  been over a period of only six weeks that I made those three hospital visits, dad started thinking about getting me one of those cones the dogs wear, it might have been cheaper than the Dinky toys.