Being a Lab Rat part 1A Chapter by ShepChapter 46 Being a Lab Rat Part 1 Even though we were early for my
appointment; we still had to wait while Mom filled out the paperwork,
transferring my medical files from a long list of my doctors. It took nearly an
hour to do it considering my medical file was just as thick as my case file. I
knew I was in trouble the second the nurse came in to draw my blood, but I also
knew there was no way she was going to get it without a fight. Shane tried to
warn her, but she said. “He’s nothing more than just a small boy, and I have
wrestled with boys bigger than him.”
Shane said. “I’ll take that bet,” placing a twenty dollar bill on the counter.
Mom added another twenty on top of his and took a seat and waited for the games
to begin. I screamed the second I saw the needle. While she wrestled me by
lying on top me doing her best to hold my arms and legs down. The more she
tried, the angrier I got, and the louder I screamed. Like the rest that have
tried, she too ended dropping the needle and sprawled onto the floor, with one
of my shoes sitting in her lap and having the other sail across the room
knocking over a container of tongue depressors where her head should have been.
Shane and Mom moved out of the way as she got up rolled up her sleeves and
lunged for me, having wrestled me down onto the floor, but I bucked her off
like a bronco in a rodeo with my right sock stuck in her mouth between her
teeth. She growled as she tried again unsuccessful. I had made so much noise
that Doctor and two more nurses came in to see what was going on. She said. “I
can’t get him to hold still long enough to draw his blood.” She turned her head
to show them I had bloody both our nose and I had managed to give her and me a
fat lip with matching black eyes and she was missing a shoe, plus her nylons
were ruined and missing three buttons on her blouse. One of them I spit to the
side in front of them and growled angrily like a wild beast daring her to try
it again.
It took Mom, Shane, my doctor, and four nurses to get it a single vile from me.
Mom and Shane collected their bets, the Doctor shook his head. Telling Mom she
should sign me up for wrestling; they’d be rich when other team underestimated
me. Shane said. “We did try to warn her; considering not even Dad, as big as he
is couldn’t contain him by himself; when he goes from terror too terrified, too
angry, in one point two seconds. It’s even worse when he is having a night
terror and five times worse during a thunderstorm. This was just a small
example of him being awake.”
Mom agreed as she hugged my shoulders and frowned seeing my back raw once
again, but smiled seeing the mess I had left behind. She wasn’t the only one
that would be scrubbing carpets today. The nurse came back limping and badly
bruised, her hair all out place, to take my stats asking Mom and Shane first if
they were going to have to wrestle me to the floor to get them. Shane and Mom
laughed. “As long as it didn’t consist of a needle she’d be fine. “ I growled
at her as she came close to me, giving her my best animal stare watching her
step back bit.
Shane said “down boy,” and made her show me she didn’t have a needle anywhere
on her. After that, I didn’t give her any fuss and sat there letting her as if
I was the good boy that should have been moments ago. The nurse stated that my
blood pressure was high, most like due to our “struggle” and I had a fever of
101 almost 102. Saying it could be the infection or could be from deprived
sleep.
In any case, I would have to come back tomorrow and so they can take it again
after I had a full days rest. But the Doctor would like her to take my blood
pressure and heart rate and add to the log book. It took her several tries to
get it right taking a crash course; my arm was getting sore after the tenth
try. So she did Shane’s as well so she could see and recognize the difference.
Mom said. “As long as no needles were involved, that shouldn’t be a problem,
but too make damn sure that they gave her something to knock him out or they’d
be dealing with her husband as well, and he’s angrier then wild bear missing
his winter hibernation.” The nurse paled knowing how big he was didn’t relish
the idea of confronting him anytime soon.
The nurse had the doctor double the dosage.
There wasn’t much they could do about the night terrors. Suggested a
psychologist and trial drugs that had seemed to help other patients, having me
sign up for the ongoing research program. I hated the term “research” knowing I
had just become the lab rat. I peed in a cup while Mom gathered my shoes and
socks taking one more look at the mess I had left in the room. It looked like a
tornado went through there. Things were on the floor or tipped over spilling
everything on the counter and the floor. The nurse hung a sign on the door,
which read out of order.
It was nearly
Nobody said anything once they took a good look at my back and seeing fresh
cuts and scrapes on my arms, feet, and chest. My face didn’t look much better
with a black eye and split lip as if I had been in a fight. Shane stared right back at them said. “You
should have seen the other guy because he lost and ran home to his mother.” and
growled like a wild animal.
Mom sighed and smiled said calmly to the manager; “this is my little tiger.
Would you like to see him roar?” Laughing as she kissed my cheek letting me
push the cart. It was nearly
Mom had Shane put me in the tub to clean my wounds and cooled me again.
Prepared us a quick lunch and put me on the couch, turned on the TV. Poured me
a large glass of orange juice and gave me the sleeping pill with half the
dosage crushed and stirred it in. Shane laid my head on his bare chest and
pulled the blanket over my shoulders wrapped his arm around me like he was
protecting his little brother.
Mom locked the back door that led to the garage, placed a sign on the other
side. “Tiger is sleeping. Please use the front door.” That became Moms and
Shane’s nickname for me considering I practically ate the nurses for lunch,
spitting her buttons as if was a piece of meat and I had fierce roar. Mom said
she wished she had a video camera to show Dad because just telling him wouldn’t
do it justice. Even though it made him laugh considering he too had experienced
it in the hospital; he felt proud that I still had the fight in me. But to him
I would always be his little escape artist, yet when he was in good mood he
would call me tiger. The name just fit and everyone from that day forward used
it.
I was out like a light listening to Shane’s steady heartbeat, but I wasn’t out
cold enough to suppress the dreams when he left me thinking I was safe. I had
envisioned my father walking into the house with a kitchen knife in his hand,
his wicked belt in the other. I screamed and thrashed and rolled off the coach
as if he had pushed me down the boiler -room stairs in my dreams and in my
reality.
Mom said she screamed seeing the knife in my hand, but I didn’t hear her. I was
too consumed by the dream. Watching me slashing my arms and legs with the
knife, yelling at my father to stop beating my brother, for all I saw were the
ropes tied around me as I tried to get loose to protect my brother from being
killed in front of me. It took four people to stop me and take the knife out my
hands so they could prevent me from unconsciously from harm myself further.
Wrapping me tightly in a blanket; tied with rope and gagged me prevent me from
biting them, letting me thrash back and forth trying to get loose.
It was nearly two hours before I woke from the nightmare enough to break the
dream. Dad was holding me in his arms to keep me from banging my head against
the floor or the furniture and wrapping his legs around me Indian style waiting
for me to repeat the safe words. To let them know I had wakened. Dad said they
tried to wake me, by sticking me in the tub. Dousing me with cold water over me
while I was wrapped up in my cocoon to prevent me from hurting myself, but
holding me against him or Shane seemed to help the most and letting me know I
was safe while the dream played itself out.
We both knew I was in trouble and could not be trusted to be left alone in a
room while I slept; until they found the right dosage and medication that would
keep me under and suppress the dreams. Mom had set an appointment with a local
psychologist, but it would be at least a month before I saw him. He had
suggested that in the meantime they arrange a sleep study one at home and one
at a local hospital, told her to double the crushed dosage and half of it
uncrushed and add some herbs like Valerian root, Lemon balm; placed it in warm
milk or Chamomile tea; to help me relax more.
That strapping me down could cause the dreams to worsen over time. And to avoid
unneeded stress or things that traumatized me the most. Suggesting sometimes a
warm body that they can trust and letting them hear their heartbeat, can sooth
the mind enough to allow sleep, allowing them too feel safe and protected would
help allow them to dream. Suggested that I should write down my dreams and talk
about them the second I woke, and prescribe anti- suppressants because there
are so many. That it’s going to be hit and miss to find the right ones and the
right combination.
Dad was tired when he came home, even more so after dealing with another night
terror or is it consider a day terror? Either way, it tires us both out. Me
more so, considering I can’t sleep without having one unless the conditions are
right. Shane nearly had our room set up by the time Dad came home but had to
stop when Mom yelled for help stating she only turned her back for a moment, but
it was long enough for me to grab the knife. Dad decided for now on; that all
knives would be locked up in the pantry. Whenever I supposed be sleeping; and
my mine and Shane’s room would be locked at night; placing an old baby monitor
in there so Shane could call for help. Considering the room is mostly
soundproof. Until they can lock the door from the inside using either a key or
keypad that they use in prisons.
Dad had also ordered an ankle and a wrist monitor that would locate me whenever
I left the house like school or church, or just riding around the neighborhood.
So all he had to do is pick up the phone and it would tell him where I was
located using the phone lines to transmit the signal to and from the ankle or
wrist device. Using the National Law Enforcement Corrections Technology Center
(NLECTC).which had been developed in 1960, but has been a popular method to use
on criminal offenders from fleeing.
Yet it would take some time to arrive anywhere from 60 to 90 days. And with
connections to the State prison where he worked, he could easily borrow one if
he needed to. My caseworker agreed to it to prevent me from running away. So
far I had made no attempt to and had several opportunities do so, but it still
had to pass through family court. Considering I am not a harden criminal; which
could take several months and it is quite expensive.
Since Shawn had to do all mine, Arthur’s and Shane’s chores. Mom let me sleep
until dinner time having Kerry help her; leaving me and Shane in the family
room watching TV while Dad and Jody finished moving Shane in and securing my
room. Giving Shane the job to watch over me while I slept un-medicated;
Learning early on that he had the knack to keep me calm enough to doze without
a night terror. It didn’t take long as tired as I was. I fell asleep quickly,
while Shane watched another basketball game.
I slept comfortably with my head resting on his bare chest timing my breaths
with the rhythm of his heartbeat. With his arms around me, it made me feel safe
as if it was Pa, Ma or my brothers Will and Robert were holding me. Every time
I entered a fit full dream he would hold me tighter and whisper I was safe and
no one was in the room but us. My body would relax and I would sleep deeper.
But I had always been a light sleeper when I am not medicated, a single
movement no matter how soft would wake me. Like Mom, or my sister whispering I
would open my eyes see who it was, and if I was in danger.
Shane would scowl if they said how cute we looked and Mom would cover my shoulders
and feel my forehead; then quickly leave the room. Dad, on the other hand, was
never that quiet. I could hear him stomping through the kitchen. Mom would
whisper their fine; Dad would come into the room, my eyes and body would jerk
awake. Shane would put his arms around my shoulders telling me Dads not angry
just wanted to see if I was alright, I nodded and closed my eyes repeating over
and over our safe words, and went back to sleep.
When dinner was ready she woke me sticking the thermometer in my mouth and took
my blood pressure using a kit she purchased at the pharmacy as the Doctor
requested so they can gauge what my heartbeat was at rest and after a traumatic
advent. Telling Dad and Shane that was practically normal and my temperature
hadn’t come down that much, but it wasn’t climbing. Dad said the pool would do
me good tonight providing we could eat first before something else happened to
ruin our family home evening.
Normally she would make all the boys wear shirts and pants or shorts at the table,
but she’d been lax’ed when it came to me or Shane. Considering I couldn’t and
it became Shane’s job to cool me, so she let it go. But when it came to the
rest of them, if it wasn’t breakfast or lunch she would send them immediately
to their rooms to change into one. Shawn was on Dad’s and her hit lists.
Telling him either he puts on a shirt or go without dinner. Shawn made the
mistake of growling that it was so unfair that Shane and I were pardoned from
the rule. If we didn’t have to wear one neither did he. Who could blame him?
The house felt like blast furnace only having one swamp cooler in the family
room.
Dad stood up was about to slap him, but Mom cringed said. “Rules are meant to
be broken, but,” Standing and looked at Shane then at Shawn. “I will break this
rule only if Eric is running a fever. Shane will be required not to wear a
shirt and sit all day in his boxers, for practicality if he needs to cool him
in a hurry or soon after or before each meal, not including breakfast or lunch.
But if not I will in force this rule requiring him to be dressed at the table
for dinner. However, Eric can’t and I refuse to have him ruin any more of his
shirts or risk infection until he is able to do so, and if you don’t like it
you can take up with your Dad.”
Shawn just had to ask, “Is he or isn’t he running a fever? I haven’t seen Shane
cooling him at all since I have come home from school, doing everyone’s
chores.” Dad growled to intervene for his rudeness at the table as everyone’s
head turned like a pinball machine.
Mom stared him down said. “Yes, he has a fever, and has had one all day if you
must know, I cooled him myself before we went to the Doctors and Shane cooled
right before you came home; and we were planning to do so again at the pool
tonight after dinner for family home evening.”
Shawn made the mistake said. “You are breaking your own rule Mom.” Mom gasped
realizing he was right stopped Dad from taking further action said as nicely as
possible. “Your right Shawn, we should have cooled him before dinner, but if
you hadn’t noticed. It has been five days since anyone up here has had decent
night sleep. And if you hadn’t noticed; it had taken the four of us from
keeping him from killing himself while he slept under a medicated state.”
Dad stopped her said. ”Mother your wrong, I personally and Shane did try to
cool him in the tub to wake him from another sever night terror. So, Shawn,
your point has just been overruled again. Now put on a shirt or go without
dinner. In fact, I am thinking about leaving you at home. Locked in your room,
considering you are grounded. If I hear or see another outburst regarding how
unfair it is; when it is your Mother and I that make the rules so long as you
are under our roof.” © 2020 ShepReviews
|
Stats
164 Views
2 Reviews Added on April 10, 2019 Last Updated on January 31, 2020 AuthorShepSantaquin, UTAboutUpdated January 17, 2020 In short I am a Male 52 years of age and Permanently Disabled due to a car accident and suffer from seizures and Sever PTSD. So I have a lot of time on my hands. One of .. more..Writing
|