Dana and Dr. Titty

Cali at night

Cali at night (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: A photo of Lactated Ringer's solution...

English: A photo of Lactated Ringer’s solution being administered via IV. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

dana does lovely dinner.JPG

dana does lovely dinner.JPG (Photo credit: da mad pixelist)

I drive home with the fierce deliberation of a drunk, avoiding the interstate and pulling over and crying and screaming when I have to.

I was going to leave Dana this day and marry my high school gf.  And I saw my gf killed in a freak accident and now I have to drive home.  Dana has scheduled surgery for tomorrow, surgery in which I will get breasts. So after I get home I will have to tell her I am leaving and that she will not see me with tits.  I am determined to stay a man no matter what.  What else can I be?

This is both absurd and nightmarish.  In the brightness of this summer day a black curtain seems to drop in front of my eyes and I shriek.  I should find a motel but I’m so fucked up I don’t even think of it .  Driving 40 mph down the highway I manage to get home without being pulled over.  Thankfully, Dana is not home.

IDK what to do first.  I chew up an Oxy, drink a glass of vodka.  Not enough so I eat two Xanax.  When all that dope starts working I start wondering what to do.  Actually nothing operational has changed.  I guess IG2 get outta here before she comes back.  Leave her a check for one million and take off.  Find a motel and grieve for a few days and take off, go anywhere.  Cali, maybe.  Why not?

I don’t hear Dana come in.  She breezes into the room with a sunny smile and says hi and takes off her Jackie O sunglasses.

You, I say with outrage and disgust.

Me, she says cheerfully.  Don’t forget you cant eat or drink anything after midnight.  Tomorrow’s a big day. You’re going to get your breasts.  Isn’t it exciting?

Dana, sit down.  We are going to talk.

I tell her everything except about Cindy.  She doesn’t explode.  Just tightens her lips and says, Uh-huh.  Then she puts her hand on my knee and says, Honey, I expected this.  You’re just getting cold feet.  That’s all.  It’s understandable.  Tomorrow you begin a new life and you’re scared.  Settle down and you ‘ll feel better about it.

Dana, RU doing this for me or for you?

For both of us.

No!  You’re doing it for yourself and making it about me.  You always do that.

You’ll love it, baby.  I promise.

Dana, I’m leaving you.  I’ll give you a million dollars to let me go.

You shouldn’t drive when you’re like this, she says smoothly.  Look, If you still feel like this in the morning we’ll postpone the surgery and tell em you got the flu or something.  We’ll do it later.  IDC as long as it gets done.  Have you eaten?

Go away!  I don’t like you!

She leaves me alone.  I hear her talking and laughing and giggling on the phone.  Another conversation in a serious tone.  She goes out again for forty minutes  and comes back just before I almost make it out of here forever.  She ignores me and goes to cooking something, humming to herself.  The humming is sweet and soft and it actually calms me.

She looks in on me with what appears to be genuine concern.  She says, I’m cooking a meatloaf, Fanci.

You ever call me that again, I’ll kill you.  My name is Erik.  You know this.

I’m cooking a meatloaf, she says.

I do not eat the flesh of unclean animals, I say.

No pork in it.  At midnight I’m locking up all the food so you better eat.  You’ll be hungry.

Very well, I say stiffly.  When it’s done set a place for me and I’ll come eat.   This doesn’t change anything.  Come morning I am leaving you come hell or high.

Of course you are, dear.  Don’t run off now.

I am hungrier than I thought.

Don’t burn yourself, she says.  It’s hot.

She keeps looking at me with creepy calf eyes.

It’s good, Dana.  Too bad I’m not in a mood to enjoy.  You know IG2G in the morning.

That’s a day away, she says primly.

I feel myself relaxing as she rubs my foot with hers under the table.  Everything seems better.   Even the clock ticking on the wall looks friendlier.  I start to feel unusually dopey.  I don’t have time to react before I am on my back on the floor, unable to move.

She drugged me.  Put it in the food or the wine.  I wake on the sofa and start struggling.  She ties off the vein in my arm and swabs it with cotton.  I feel the coolness of alcohol on my skin and the smell of alcohol reaches me.  Then the stick of the needle.  My stomach heaves.   A torrent of curses flies from me.

In the gathering dark she says, Please forgive me, honey.  I had to do it.  You were so upset and I had to protect you…

She fades into black.

 

I think it is morning and I am strapped into the passenger’s seat beside Dana.  I still cant move.  Then I’m on a gurney in a surgical gown with Ringer’s Lactate flowing into me.  Dana is here talking to Dr. Titty and a guy in scrubs that I think is the anesthesiologist.  I am in four point restraints.

He was scared, Dana says earnestly.  He has a phobia of general anesthetics.  I hope I didn’t give him too much sedative…

Let me worry about that, the anesthesiologist says brusquely.

Dr. Tit feels my breasts and says, Your breast tissue is in fine shape, Fanci.  The swelling should be gone in time for you to look great in those summer dresses.

I hope so, Dana says.

Dr. Tit says, Dana tells me you’re going to model for Cover Girl.  You sure have a pretty face for it.

She’s going to model for Victoria’s Secret, too, Dana says in sadism.

Send me a catalog, then, Dr. Tit says, patting my knee.

I open my mouth to scream but only a puling sound comes out.

Oh, dear, Dana sighs.  He’s getting agitated again.  Perhaps…

Of course, the anesthetist says.  I’ll give him more Versed.

I see the syringe put into an IV port and a darkening gathers over the world.  I scream, CINDY!

And I am dead to the world and its evil machinations.

And I am awake alone in a hospital room.  Still restrained.  Bandages over my chest where there is tissue that wasn’t there before.  I have breasts.  Dana wins again.

 

 

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