What happened after the ‘incident of the dirty bed’ I don’t really know because, well, because I cannot remember. What does register in my next recollection of the recovery hospital was that my bed was no longer a cage. Of course this led to my wondering if ever I was so constrained. Now I was free and that was all that mattered. Free to climb in, and out of my bed whenever I wanted. And this made me wonder, if the cage was real, why. Was I bad, was I in prison, was I ever going to get out.
What also made me wonder was why one half of my head was shaved while the hair on the other side was much longer than I remembered it being. I did try to comb it all the way over but it just wasn’t long enough for that.
The room also appeared brighter than I remembered it being, and perhaps it was because this recollection occurred during daylight hours, or the curtains had been drawn. Whatever the reason, I got out of bed and slowly walked into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and saw the shaved head. It didn’t bother me too much, just, like everything else I saw around me, it made me think. Then I put it aside and managed to open my mouth just wide enough to allow the toothbrush in and when I had finished brushing teeeth, washing my face, and attempting to comb, I came out of the bathroom and found an attendant waiting for me. She carried a tray with food and drink and a small cup filled with pills. She was nice, and spoke with me as if it wasn’t our first meeting, but she didn’t bother telling me her name, and then she waited for me to finish all of the medicine before leaving. I sat in a chair beside the bed with the tray of food in front of me, watched someone on TV, and ate in silence.
Why did I shave the hair off one side of my head, and why couldn’t I open my mouth all the way? I thought about those two things while I waited for someone. Who I awaited I do not know, but I had a feeling they would come, so I sat, and waited some more, and that was all I remember from that episode in my life.
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