Lea’s horrifying journey gets worse:
“As light and dark began to drift apart, I felt something very heavy holding my wrists tight against a frigid, waxy metal surface. Except for patches of warmth between my legs and under the soft hollow of my chin, the table’s greasy coldness pressed tightly against every inch of my bare body – breasts, stomach, legs and arms – sucking away all that was left of my body heat. Only by straining against my shackles could I raise my head, trying to make sense of my cluttered surroundings beyond the intense halo of blinding, blue light around me. Through a narrow, triple window to blowing grayness outside, I saw a bony finger of ice drip, drip, dripping dirty water from a low roof to somewhere I couldn’t see under the windowsill. Is that where I’ll end up? Each glistening drop was momentarily caught in the gathering gloom by the harsh glare hurting my eyes.
Where am I? Why am I here? Where are my friends when I need them most? Am I sick? This place looks like a hospital. But I don’t remember getting hurt. Is someone helping me?
What I took to be a doctor looked up from another woman strapped to a nearby metal table under similar cone of sharp, blue light. Ochre dried blood and small patches of fresh, red blood spotted his green scrub shirt and trousers showing through an open, knee-length lab coat that might once have been white and clean. The old man in spattered greens wiped his nose with the back of his hand then tossed a scalpel into a waiting aluminum instrument tray with a clank. Paused beside his third charge, he thrust a bare hand under the man’s nose to check his shallow breathing and fumbled for the carotid artery, looking for a pulse before turning toward me. Maybe he’d heard my chains rattle against the operating table as I tried to turn over.
As I kept trying to focus, his long, narrow face, beady eyes and a well-trimmed dash of a mustache floated into view. Not a mean or kind face. Just a face, a very tired and wrinkled face.
“Awake already, Lea? You’ll be glad to know there weren’t any serious complications. If there’ll be no trouble, I can release your restraints.”
How could there be any more trouble I wondered as bits and pieces of what had happened to me snapped through my mind like bursts of static on a cheap electric radio? My tongue still felt so thick from whatever had knocked me out that I could only nod weakly.
@https://www.prisonlegalnews.org/news/2007/may/15/prisoners-have-right-to-informed-consent-and-to-refuse-medical-treatment
#surgerywithoutconsent, #wakingfromsurgery, #unconscious, #frightened, #alone
