A Month in the Nuthouse Thanks to the U.S. Army (before I First Listened to Arlo) Part 2

...so there I was, laying in a hospital bed and staring up at a camera that was mounted in the upper-left corner, (from my vantage-point), of the room. The camouflage green jacket and pants with the buttons and pockets was packed away somewhere along with matching hat that came down over my eyes and the toe-cramping, sole/soul pinching boots that came up to mid-shin. I was laying in that bed, an eighteen year old man/boy who suddenly realized that he didn't have a clue as to what the hell was what in the world, wearing a new uniform. A uniform that, somehow, seemed to fit my frame a hell of a lot better than the government issued green camouflage jacket and pants with buttons and pockets with matching hat that came down over my eyes - not allowing me to see things as I should - and mid-shin, shiny-black boots that cramped my toes and pinched my sole/soul.

No.

What I had now was a thin, loose fitting set of blue and white striped pajamas with six little silver snaps down the front of my top and three little silver snaps on the fly of my bottoms. There was no hat to speak of, so my vision in the nut house was never obscured, and my government issued footwear was now a pair of slippers that exposed my toes and freed my sole(s)/soul.

I continued to stare at the camera that was mounted in the upper-left corner of the room. Prior to my realizing that this was the most relaxed I had felt in half a year, I'll admit that I was a bit freaked out.

I was freaked out for about half an hour.

For about ten minutes, I was scared near to death.

During a couple of heartbeats, I was petrified.

But it passed.

I even got up from my bed to look out of the window, though it was barred with steel rods so that I couldn't shatter the bulletproof glass with my pillow and parachute my way to complete freedom from the eleventh floor of a sixteen story building.

I smiled.

I touched the bars.

I pretended to wiggle the steel rods.

I pretended to pay close attention to one of those bars, looking at both places where steel bar met concrete wall at the top and bottom of the window well, knowing full well that the eye behind the camera in the upper left corner of the room was paying close attention to the weirdo that had just moved into the neighborhood.

Folks, it took less than one minute for a male nurse to step into that room.

Oh, he was nice... he didn't threaten me with wall to wall counseling or yell at me in any way. Quite the opposite, really.

This guy asked me to lay down on my bed and get comfortable while he asked me a few questions as he wrote down data of my madness on his shift manifest.
I answered each question with honesty and sincerity.

After about five minutes of questions and answers and manifest doodling, I was not surprised to see this man walk around the room. I giggled to myself as he made his way to the window.

At the third bar from the left, (from my vantage-point)...the third bar, counting left to right, of seven steel, escape preventing bars, I watched as this fellow carefully inspected both areas where steel meshed with concrete at the top and bottom of the window well.

And laughter, not hysterical laughter, but a laugh of mild, unmeaningful triumph jumped out of my throat. The nurse looked at me, smiling. The smile on his face turned into a laugh of his own when I asked him, "So...anything good on TV lately?"

Nope!

My toes were loose and there was no longer a pinch in my sole(s)/soul.

I'll tell you, friends...my feet never felt better.

But I'm not writing this to tell you about windows or bars or toes or daring escapes with a pillow case and a skyscraper's updraft...

What I sat down to get across was sole/soul searching...

I'd like to introduce the group...

(to be continued)