No Escape

I’m lying on the couch as I normally do, trying to tamp down the pain, when there is a knock at my door.  I answer it.  Two men wearing dark clothes and sunglasses are standing there.  ‘Sherri?’ one says.  I squint my eyes, ready to slam shut the door.   Why hadn’t I looked out my peephole?  Guess I thought it was the neighbor,whose door I had knocked on earlier to ask if he could help me with opening the flue in my fireplace.  His daughter said he was sleeping.

“Who are you” I ventured

“Come now, you’ll be back before you know it”

I have no idea why, but I turned and shut the door, locked it, and went with them.  My memory is sketchy at this point.  I was somewhere else instantly.  I have no idea where.  Everything is very bright.

“We’ve been watching you for some time now.  We have chosen you”

“For what?” I ask, shaking with fear

They smile.   When you awaken, you will be in perfect shape. No more tumors, no more pain, no more need for the drugs you take, and no withdrawal from stopping this quickly

Suddenly I’m staring at my front door from the inside, wondering why I went to it.  It’s almost time for my medication.  Only I’m not in pain.  Not one tiny bit.  I’m not numb, tingling, burning, searing, exhausted nor constipated, I can feel that.  And I can tell I’m at what was my normal weight, 112.   I can feel I have to pee and I do so without my catheter.   What the heck?

On Monday, after having the weekend to absorb this, I call my pain doctor’s office and make an appointment for Tuesday, the only day they are in clinic.  They work me in because I say it’s urgent.  I get there, and when it’s my turn, I ask that the nurse and doctor be in the room with me the same time.  They come in.  I look at them and smile.  “You won’t believe this” I tell them.

Wait.  Does this mean I have to go back to work?  At my age?  Doing what?

Problems.  You can't escape them.