Under their control

I do not enjoy being in hospitals, but the hospital I went to yesterday is purely a ‘day care’ hospital and there is no despair there. Most of the people that work there smile a lot, and they treat the patients very nicely. There is no waiting around and it all runs most efficiently.

When I arrived, I was soon escorted into a little room where a girl asked me the usual barrage of questions, and then she showed me where to undress. Soon thereafter, the anaesthetist arrived and he asked me all the questions again, and then he led me into the theatre room where the surgeon asked me all the same questions, again.

When we had that all squared away, now it was time for the good bit. They had me take off the dressing gown and lay on the table on my side and they tucked me in, nice and tight, into white sheets and blankets. Was I warm enough, they wanted to know? Oh yes! I was warm and in my submissive little space. I was already deep inside a womb of comfort, being attended to. I was totally in their charge.

The anaesthetist came and pulled my hand this way and that. Whatever he wanted was fine with me. I was just a casual observer. Eventually, he was all ‘good to go’ and I vaguely heard him say, “Now, I am injecting something that will send you to sleep very soon. Off to sleep now!” That’s all I know. I was told to go to sleep and so I did. Instantly!

I don’t like hospitals but I adore to be looked after. I am the perfect patient because as long as I have trust, and I did, I will co-operate fully.

I remember waking. “It is over now, Vesta. You can start to wake up now.” How lovely that groggy feeling is when one comes out of the anaesthetic. You are not awake and not asleep and people are monitoring you and checking that all is well. Bit by bit, they raise the bed so that you start to wake more and more. I don’t like to rush this process, enjoying it as I do. I tend to pretend that I am more asleep than I am, just so that I can luxuriate in it.

Eventually, it was time to ask me if I wanted a cup of tea or coffee. A cup of tea, please. Thank you. And would I like the television on? Good heavens, no! I wanted to feel the pleasure of being under their caring control. I wanted to watch everything they did; every tug of the blanket, or noting of blood pressure. I wanted to enjoy every moment of being their patient.

I have never been ‘under the covers’. I have never been wrapped tight in bandages and monitored closely. I do think that I might enjoy it very much.

All too soon, it was time to get dressed. I waited for my husband in the waiting room, as you may have read yesterday. He came toward me all alone in the room, smiling; pleased to have his girl back, it seemed to me. He hugged me tight and solicitously walked me to the car. Then, we drove to a lovely little bistro and I enjoyed my first meal in over a day.

I’m not one to actually ask for attention. Regular readers may know that I have trouble asking for anything. But, when attention is given, I melt into the moment. I have no sense of embarrassment or apprehension. I care not at all that strangers should see me naked or handle me. It has always been this way. I can’t explain it. It is just as it is. When most submissive, I am at one.