Children with Blood

Something -- some bug or piece of dirt -- had become stuck inside the skin of my upper right arm. I had to find what it was, so I pried inside my skin folds with my left hand fingers.

Unfortunately, instead of finding what I was looking for, I accidentally dislodged an extremely important needle in my right arm that had been implanted by a surgeon months ago. As the needle disconnected from my body and became exposed to the air, it ceased to administer life-sustaining juice into my body, and I became noticeably weaker. Again and again, I tried to stick it back into my arm at various places and angles, but could not seem to find the correct vein.

Realizing that this was an emergency, I quickly phoned the doctor. He said, "Record a video showing what happened to your arm, put it on a floppy disk, and send it to me. Then I'll see what I can do."

I thought this was rather odd, since a video is much too large of a file to store in a floppy disk. Thus I ignored the doctor's request and, instead, went straight to the hospital myself.

Upon arrival, the doctor asked, "Did you record the video on a floppy disk like I asked you to?"

I said, "A video can't fit on a floppy disk."

He said, "Good, so now you know."

I realized that the sadistic doctor had wanted me to record a video, try to put it on a floppy disk, and fail. I got the uncomfortable feeling that this doctor was trying to hurt me instead of help me.

I asked, "Why did you tell me to put it on a floppy disk in the first place?"

"To teach you a lesson."

That the doctor had wanted to teach me a "lesson" before I had even done anything wrong further confirmed my suspicions that this doctor was an evil sadist.

The doctor's assistant pulled out some thick-rimmed glasses from an envelope, and handed them to me. I put them on, and they distorted my vision. I thought they were some sort of "drunk" glasses, so I stumbled around and joked, "haha, I'm drunk."

The doctor's assistant replied, "No, those are not glasses that give you drunk vision. They are actually a diagnostic tool we use to determine if someone is susceptible to a certain type of seizure. If you get a seizure in the next couple of minutes, we'll know you're one of those people."

I walked around for a bit, then gave them back to the assistant. No seizure. The evil doctor, disappointed, got bored and left the room to go work on his other evil deeds, and the assistant started explaining to me how they use the "seizure glasses" to diagnose people.

"If there is a seizure, an emergency will be announced. The course of action following a seizure begins with an announcement as such:

'This is an emergency seizure.
Some doctors will be slow, some will be of service.
Some surgeons will be slow, some will be of service....'"

He explained that during an emergency, some people cannot help having a panic attack. Reading aloud the announcement quells any anger towards certain people who panic and are "slow" to respond to emergencies, thus facilitating quicker cooperation between members of the hospital staff.

While casually listening to the assistant, I began to experience a vague headache, which throbbed and gradually grew more intense. I was feeling so sick, I nearly fell over while trying to lay down. My vision blurred, the lights on the ceiling became nondescript spinning halos. Then, all of a sudden, my body began to spasm violently, and I was experiencing a full-on seizure.

I heard a voice,

"This is an emergency seizure."

I saw, through blurred vision, some people shuffling quickly to attempt to aid me. I noted that my sadistic doctor, who had not yet returned, seemed to be one of the most remarkably "slow" staff members to respond.

"Some doctors will be slow, some will be of service."

Suddenly, I could no longer see the hospital staff. Instead, a large crowd of children were running at me, their faces and hands covered in blood. Gruesome and gory, they ran into the windowed wall, the only thing separating me from them. As they beat at the large plexi-glass windows with their fists, their horribly distorted and bloody faces screamed a silent scream. I lay there helplessly, still experiencing violent spasms. The sturdy windows became equally covered in blood, but did not break.

"Some surgeons will be slow, some will be of service..."