LJI prompt: Ikigai Seeking Dreams
“How’d it go with you after the last time?” The technician in the white coat checks in with me before we begin my second treatment.
“Well, fine, I think.” I reply. “Are the side effects from this cumulative?” I’m still a little skeptical.
“No, no. Actually, the greatest chance for more serious side effects occur during the first two sessions.”
Oh great, I muse. Here I am for Number Two. Somehow, I find that only slightly reassuring. “Tell me again how this works. It’s obviously pretty high tech.” Maybe knowing more about it will set my mind at ease.
“Oh, it is,” he offers enthusiastically. “it’s the only radiation delivery system that features a linear accelerator. As you can see, it’s mounted on a robot. It will be moving all around you, shooting photons to precisely the right location to destroy your tumor cells. You have nothing to worry about.”
Deciding that optimism is the only logical course, I shove away my apprehensions and lie down once again on the sacrificial altar, I mean platform.
“Do you want music?” he asks.
“No, no thank you. I’m planning on composing my next writing piece. I have to write about those things I am passionate about in life. I should have plenty of time during the next twenty minutes to give that some thought.”
“Good to go then!” He carefully bolts down the rigid plastic face mask that will prevent me from moving my head, thus protecting my brain from damage in the wrong places. “See you on the other side!”
Thoroughly immobile, I stare up at the ceiling, thoughtfully and appropriately painted with a serene scene of a galaxy far, far away. I hear no noises yet, so I assume nothing has started. I begin the mental journey out into space. Where is my ikigai, those wonderful passions that guide and enrich my life?
I reflect on the things that bring me joy: the outdoors, hiking, native plants. Writing. What would happen if I couldn’t enjoy those things anymore? I would be lost without my words.
What about people who are prevented from following their dreams? Is the true punishment for someone in prison not just the physical confinement but actually their complete inability to follow their dreams?
The groaning mechanical noises commence. The Storm Trooper’s shoulders swivel over me. Ah, here comes that rudely staring robotic eye. It peers at me. Suddenly I see its pupil contract. What is it thinking as it clicks and buzzes? My head feels a little warm and sweat breaks out across my forehead.
A mild headache erupts in the center of my head.
I start to smell an odd odor. It reminds me of…burning feathers? Hair?
My mouth feels a bitterness, a mineral taste. My throat is becoming dry.
A fear grows in me suddenly. What if there were a blackout? What if the programmer of this machine misplaced a decimal point in their calculations? What if there is a critical mistake?!
Alarmed, I begin to mentally recite a speech I memorized many years ago. Stay focused, I command myself.
Four scorecard and serious years ago, our frontrunners
Brought force on this commandment…
Equal men?
…by people? Four people? Five?
Help!
I scream in terror. My words! My thoughts!
It’s burning my brain!
*****
While this story is related to true events, ultimately--and fortunately--this is a work of fiction.
“Well, fine, I think.” I reply. “Are the side effects from this cumulative?” I’m still a little skeptical.
“No, no. Actually, the greatest chance for more serious side effects occur during the first two sessions.”
Oh great, I muse. Here I am for Number Two. Somehow, I find that only slightly reassuring. “Tell me again how this works. It’s obviously pretty high tech.” Maybe knowing more about it will set my mind at ease.
“Oh, it is,” he offers enthusiastically. “it’s the only radiation delivery system that features a linear accelerator. As you can see, it’s mounted on a robot. It will be moving all around you, shooting photons to precisely the right location to destroy your tumor cells. You have nothing to worry about.”
Deciding that optimism is the only logical course, I shove away my apprehensions and lie down once again on the sacrificial altar, I mean platform.
“Do you want music?” he asks.
“No, no thank you. I’m planning on composing my next writing piece. I have to write about those things I am passionate about in life. I should have plenty of time during the next twenty minutes to give that some thought.”
“Good to go then!” He carefully bolts down the rigid plastic face mask that will prevent me from moving my head, thus protecting my brain from damage in the wrong places. “See you on the other side!”
Thoroughly immobile, I stare up at the ceiling, thoughtfully and appropriately painted with a serene scene of a galaxy far, far away. I hear no noises yet, so I assume nothing has started. I begin the mental journey out into space. Where is my ikigai, those wonderful passions that guide and enrich my life?
I reflect on the things that bring me joy: the outdoors, hiking, native plants. Writing. What would happen if I couldn’t enjoy those things anymore? I would be lost without my words.
What about people who are prevented from following their dreams? Is the true punishment for someone in prison not just the physical confinement but actually their complete inability to follow their dreams?
The groaning mechanical noises commence. The Storm Trooper’s shoulders swivel over me. Ah, here comes that rudely staring robotic eye. It peers at me. Suddenly I see its pupil contract. What is it thinking as it clicks and buzzes? My head feels a little warm and sweat breaks out across my forehead.
A mild headache erupts in the center of my head.
I start to smell an odd odor. It reminds me of…burning feathers? Hair?
My mouth feels a bitterness, a mineral taste. My throat is becoming dry.
A fear grows in me suddenly. What if there were a blackout? What if the programmer of this machine misplaced a decimal point in their calculations? What if there is a critical mistake?!
Alarmed, I begin to mentally recite a speech I memorized many years ago. Stay focused, I command myself.
Four scorecard and serious years ago, our frontrunners
Brought force on this commandment…
Equal men?
…by people? Four people? Five?
Help!
I scream in terror. My words! My thoughts!
It’s burning my brain!
*****
While this story is related to true events, ultimately--and fortunately--this is a work of fiction.