On this cold December day, snow is falling as I work my way out of bed. I am what most people call crazy. Personally, I like to refer to it as mentally damaged. To prove to you that I am, I will tell you about my sleeping conditions.

My bed has restraints. Not sexual restraints but ones that keep me from injuring myself during the night. I have what you will know as night terrors. They're realistic nightmares directed around traumatic chapters of my past.

There are five separate restraints in total. The first is hooked to my ankles, the second around my waist, the third around my upper chest, the fourth around my wrists, and the last around my neck. Yes, my neck.

Before I was medically required to have these, I used to sleep like any normal life form. In a comfy bed, free to roll from side to side. But after running out my bedroom window and hitting the concrete sidewalk out front, this being only one event, they made it medically required.

Over the years I have grown to accept that my life will never be normal. There are many reasons I am the way I am. Those chapters of my life are impossible to hide, let alone forget. My mother was abusive, my father died while I was mighty young, and my sister also tragically died as I watched from the sidelines unable to help. So easy to understand why I can not live a normal life.

Now Becky just came through my front door. She is my medical assistant at work and around my home. Quite honestly the only person left that I consider family.

" Good morning Dr. Adero. How are you feeling this morning?"

Yes, I'm a doctor. To be specific I am a neurosurgeon. I operate on people's brains for a living. And not to sound arrogant, but I do my job better than all other neurosurgeons in my state of Minnesota. Ok, yes I'm arrogant but I have to be to make up for my low self-esteem in all other aspects of me.

"I'm not doing well sugar. My back is in excruciating pain and my head feels like it's spinning in circles. Not a wink of sleep came my way."

"Sorry to hear that sir. Here are your daily pills. Added abbatole for the pain, so there should be a total of ten pills this morning."

"Thank you, I need them all. How has your morning gone sugar? Hope better than mine."

"Today has gone good sir. By the way, Mrs. Peters' surgery has been delayed until five because of recent spikes in her blood pressure."

Ah yes, Mrs. Peter's! She has been my client for over five years now. When she first arrived in my office it was because there was a cyst in her cerebellum. But unfortunately, she has come back over these many years because every time I remove one another starts to form shortly after.

This is what is called Tomilic Falbum. Her brain makeup is unlike most. It has taught its self at a young age that it "needs" an object to fill a "gap" in between lobes or in the middle of a single lobe. So far no cure has been discovered.

"Her blood pressure was high? That is strange her family has no record of blood pressure problems. Get Dr. Price to check into it please and make sure he knows it's urgent."

As she went off to do so, I started preparing. I hated getting around for work that day. Since I worked night shifts Saturday and Sunday I hadn't had the time to clean my apartment. A messy apartment puts me in a panic.

My mind starts to scramble which makes even finding my keys(which are always hanging on the key hook) hard to find and focus upon. It took all my strength to not have a panic attack. But my perfectionism is why I make a great neurosurgeon. Attention to detail and steady hands are key.

As I started to dress my bedroom door flung open. There I stood like a deer stuck in headlights, with only one foot through my scrub pants. The person who barged in is Dr. Patrisha Drew. Her body is perfection, her doctor skills are like an aged surgeon's, and her attitude was more vicious than a tiger cat's. She was my hospital's head Pedes doctor. I think I might have yelped as I quickly turned away.

"Oh please Doctor it's not like it's hard on the eyes. I'm here to talk about a predicament I'm in."

My jaw dropped at the first section of that sentence. She likes what she saw, that's something to keep in mind.

"Yes but please turn away until my pants are up. As I do not like showing it off."

I think she might have gave a grunt of annoyance as she turned away.

"Now mam, what might I help you with? Talk and walk though, I must start on my way to work."
© Gs Emotions