Is it lame that the hardest drug I've done is anesthesia? I almost did marijuana in middle school but decided against it after reading a passage in Matthew. I don't remember exactly what it said but I remember how it made me feel.
Where does anesthesia play into this? Well, they use it for all of my electroconvulsive therapies, or ECT for short. They put me in a room with a doctor and an anesthesiologist and ask me questions. After the questions, they put me under and shock my brain! It briefly triggers a seizure. I tell you, the feeling of going under is like no other. It really is a thrill. I can't imagine what harder drugs like marijuana feel like.
Not just anyone gets ECT. No, I'm special. They say I'm "mentally ill." I have a paper that's basically the ABCs of what's supposedly wrong with me. However, I don't agree with the term "mental illness." As far as I'm concerned, this is normal for me! I've never known anything different, so who's really "ill" here? I love who I am! Flaws and all. Some say it's strange to meet a young man who loves himself so much. I just tell them that I wouldn't be able to love myself if I didn't have him.
To get it out of the way, I believe in God. But I don't just believe in him, I know he's real. I one hundred believe in his existence. I've never doubted for a second that he isn't real. Even the most devout of believers have their doubts about God, but me? Not at all. And it's quite simple why.
I can see and hear God.
"How you feeling, Judas?"
A nurse comes into my peripheral and I look into his steel blue eyes.
I start convulsing and flailing my arms around, "I'm seizing!" I cry out.
The nurse chuckles, "Good to know they haven't fried your sense of humor. Let's get you into a wheelchair."
He pushes a wheelchair to the side of the bed I'm laying on. The anesthesia hasn't worn off completely yet, so I'm still feeling woozy.
I crawl into the chair with the nurse's help and he wheels me toward the other side of the room.
"Macaroni and cheese again?" he asks.
"Yes, please. Fasting has burnt a hole in my stomach."
He puts the back of the chair up against the wall and I watch as he sticks some frozen macaroni and cheese into a microwave and presses some beeping buttons. When it begins to cook he turns around and begins to walk away.
Over the intensive part of ECT, I've tried to learn every nurse and doctor's name. I like names. I never forget a name. A name can say a lot about a person. It's like an advertisement for who they are. I'm mentioning this because this is the only nurse I haven't gotten the name of.
"Hey wait up! What's your name?" I ask.
He turns around and smiles.
"John."
"John. That's a good name. I love his gospel."
"Yeah, my parents were religious. I never really caught on though."
"Why's that?"
"Just never made sense to me. I need tangible evidence for that kind of thing."
I think about his answer. When he starts to turn around I speak up:
"What if you could see him?"
"Who? God?"
"Yeah. Or—like Jesus. What if you could see him standing in front of you? And what if he told you he believed in you and he was there for you?"
He looks down at the ground for a few seconds then meets my eyes again, "Then I'd believe I guess. But one can only imagine when it comes to this stuff, right?"
Then, right on cue, a bearded man in a beige robe walks in from behind John and stands right next to me. John pays him no mind; probably because he can't see him.
I look up at the man standing beside me as he winks at me.
"Yeah. One could only imagine?" I say not taking my eyes off the robed man. My best friend. My king.
John then walks away and the robed man nudges me on the shoulder.
"This is it," he says with a smile "Your last session. How do you feel?"
"I feel great. I feel like this experience has only brought us closer together."
"I'm glad. I'm just sorry you had to go through such an intensive experience. You sure it'll serve its purpose?"
The microwave beeps and I see John beginning to make his way back.
"Yes, Jesus," I say to him "I've planned this all out. Nobody will think we're crazy anymore!"
John comes into the room and takes the steaming dish out of the microwave. He places it on the miniature table in front of me.
"Who are you talking to?" John asks.
"Oh. Just myself."
John goes to the counter and grabs a plastic for me to use. I thank him, close my eyes, then pray.
"God, will you bless John for his kindness and hard work? I know I'll probably never see him again, but he deserves your best, you know? Anyway, thank you for this meal. I love you. Amen."
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Once my mother arrives to pick me up, they wheel me to the front lobby where she always picks me up. When we enter the lobby, my mother is waiting in a chair. She stands up when she sees me and we exchange smiles.
"It was nice knowing you, Judas," John says, grabbing my left hand as my mother grabs my right.
"Likewise John. God bless your soul."
He smiles, then once I'm standing he takes the wheelchair away and goes back to the ECT area. I watch as my mom asks me a question but I'm star-struck by her beauty. It's amazing how she gets more and more beautiful the older she becomes. I still remember the first day we met. I was ten and in my third foster home and she was twenty-seven. She and her husband, which I call Dad, picked me out when they saw me preaching to the other kids. I noticed them watching from a distance as I was talking about a God that loves and cares for kids like us. I'm not sure what it was that interested them in me, but I was the lucky one they adopted. I don't thank them enough for doing it.
"Judas?" My mom says, bringing me back to reality.
"Oh, sorry. Just taking it all in."
She's used to my compliments by now, but they still bring a smile to her face. Which makes them worth saying.
"How do you feel?" she asks.
"Good. Great even. I'm ready to go home and eat something."
"Have you seen him at all lately? Or heard him?"
She doesn't have to clarify to me to know who she's talking about. Jesus stands behind her, his hand straight, making a slicing motion to his neck and shaking his head.
"Nope," I lie "Haven't seen him since they started zapping me."
Her hand finds my cheek and she tilts her head.
"Good," she says "Let's get you home. Do you want Chick-fil-A?"
"Do I want Chick-fil-A? Woman, do you even have to ask at this point?"
My Mom woke me up from the nap I was having in the passenger seat. I look around and see we're parked in the Chick-fil-A parking lot.
"The drive-through's closed," she tells me "Can you run in and get our food? I'll give you my card. Remember the pin?"
"One two three four. How could I forget?"
She hands me the card and I step outside. The reason she's not going with me is that she has a lot of social anxiety. Crowded places freak her out and this Chick-fil-A is always crowded. Now more than ever since the drive-through is closed.
When I step inside, I count ten people in the building. I always do a head count of how many people are in a room. I like to count how many strangers I was supposed to meet by the end of the day. This might seem strange, but I believe everyone we meet. From strangers we see in the neighboring car to lifelong friends; I believe everyone I meet I meet for a reason. Even if I only see them for a few moments. I know our paths were meant to cross.
What could I possibly get from seeing these ten strangers sitting at their tables? Well, I see a kid, maybe ten years old, with a blue cast on his right arm. I had a cast like that when I was just starting middle school, and that reminds me of how scared I was to have something on me that showed people I'm broken. The kid's mother sitting across from him has blonde hair, the same as my Mom's. The couple sitting behind them is enjoying their meal, and by the way they're talking, this looks like their first date. I've never been on a date before. It's not that I don't want to date a woman, it's just that no woman seems interested enough in me. This couple reminds me if I just put myself out there, I'll make friends. Maybe even a girlfriend.
I walk up to the front counter and there's no one there. So I wait.
"Be with you in a moment!" A woman's voice calls out. It's low for a woman's voice. I can't see her yet so I yell back.
"Take your time!"
All of a sudden, I feel pressure in my groin. I then realized I skipped my morning peeing session because my appointment was so early. I have a thing about public bathrooms so I don't want to go into one unless it's an absolute emergency. Which this is soon becoming as the pressure increases by the second.
Then I see her. The owner of the voice. I then realize why the drive-through was closed. And oh God. Her hair is dyed navy blue and she has a nose ring piercing on her left nostril. She has to be at least five feet tall at the most and she wears her uniform as if she made it herself. She has a yellow cross necklace. A believer?
"Hi, sorry for the wait. Can I help you?"
She's the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. I had no idea God could create someone so pretty. I should tell her her eyes are as green as the greenest oceans. I should tell her she's as beautiful as a thousand golden hours. I should tell her I need her help. I should tell her to rescue me and care for me and whatever I do I should not say 'I have to Pee'.
"I have to pee!" I blurt out, fast walking to the nearest bathroom.
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As I pee into the urinal, I bang my head against the cold tile wall, completely in disbelief with myself.
"Smooooooth," Jesus says from somewhere behind me.
"Yeah I know, I'm the smoothest dumbass ever."
"I think it might've worked, actually."
"What? Are you crazy? I told her I had to pee and ran away like a toddler!"
"It was endearing. And funny. It's quite the first impression."
"I've—I've never felt this way before. It's like the world slowed down or something when I saw her."
"That's love, my friend. That's called love."
"Love? I hardly know her! I looked at her for a few seconds and she said two sentences to me."
I zip up my pants and turn around. Jesus is sitting on the countertop between two sinks. I begin to wash my hands when Jesus leans in and says:
"Say her name when you go back out there."
"Who says I'm going back out there? I'm just gonna stay in here until her shift ends."
"C'mon, be serious with me for a moment. Just look at her name tag and however you do it work her name in."
"Okay, okay fine. I'll say her name."
One of the stall doors opens. I now just realize I look like somebody having an imaginary conversation with someone. And when I see the ten-year-old kid with a cast on his right arm, my face heats up.
He looks at me with his brow furrowed and washes his hand. After he's done he dries his hands and looks at me again.
"You got an imaginary friend?" he asks.
"Sorta. I mean—uh no."
He then throws away the damp paper towel he used to dry his hands and leans in a little. Holding a hand above his mouth, as if to tell me a secret, he leans towards me.
"It's okay. I still have mine too," he whispers. He winks and then leaves the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror.
"You got this," Jesus says. And I believe him.
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She's still at the counter when I make my way back to her. We make eye contact and I almost blurt out again but I stop myself. I then remember what Jesus said, and I look at her name tag. Delilah. Her name is Delilah. And next to her name tag is a steel gray Dungeons and Dragons logo.
"Do you like Dungeons and Dragons?" I ask. Her face lights up like a light bulb.
"Dude. I love Dungeons and Dragons," she says.
"What's your favorite class?"
"Well, I'm usually DM but if I had to pick one it would be the bard."
"I'm a cleric! Have you seen the new movie?"
"Dude I haven't! But God, do I want to. I can't afford it though. I don't get paid till next Friday."
I hear Jesus clear his throat deliberately. I turn to him and he motions with his eyes what to do.
"I could take you if you want?"
Her eyes sparkle and there's a pause. I now realize what just said and I would scream in embarrassment if I wasn't in front of this goddess of a woman.
"I mean, I've already seen it. But. You know if—"
"Yes," she interrupts "I'll go out with you."
"Oh. Cool. Hehe."
"You gonna order or...?"
"Oh! Yeah! Right! Can I get two thirty pieces of nuggets?"
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I walk out the food and the biggest grin I've ever made. I just scored a date with a gorgeous woman named Delilah. Holy cow! Girls never talk to me! I'm the loser that's just talking to himself.
"Ew! No way! You're weird!"
Well, look who's weird now. God has blessed me today.
I get in the car and my mom immediately does a once-over of me.
"Why are you so happy?" she asks.
"Because I got a date ma!"
Her eyes widen and she squeals embracing me.
"What's her name? How old is she? Is she pretty?"
"Her name is Delilah. I don't know her age. Maybe twenty-one? And she's the prettiest woman I've ever seen."
"What are you guys gonna do?"
"We're gonna go see the Dungeons and Dragons movie."
"Oooh, that's a good movie."
"Right? I'm gonna pick her up after her shift tomorrow."
"But you can't drive, remember?"
"Oh. Right. ECT. How long do I have to wait again?"
"Two weeks. But it's okay. I'll drive you guys."
"Oh. No. Mom. That's okay. Really I—"
"Don't worry I'd love to drive you guys on your first date. I still can't believe it. You? A girlfriend?"
"Ouch. Mom?"
"Oh I'm just saying with the whole Jesus thing," she air quotes when she says 'Jesus' "Girls never really liked you. But now you have a date!"
"Yeah. I still can't believe it."
I look over to Jesus in the back seat. His hands are behind his head and he's leaning back with a smile on his face.
"Now," my mom says "Let's get home and eat!"
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