Chat
06-29-2015, 08:40 AM
We were out in the forest, not sure where. I was seeing rolls of canvas everywhere and temporary 'rooms' were being divided off by laying down tree trucks. What are they assembling here? We kept on moving. Soon, our group (made up of close family members) were inside one of these cubicles with a detox specialist. There was something in the forest that required major detox from all the inhabitants. There was a very long line of canvas cubicles, each one filled with different people. It felt like an assembly line, where you would do one thing in one canvas room, and then when the buzzer goes off, everyone goes to the next cubicle.
I was last to do the first cubicle detox from my group. It was a specific methodical protocol and the guide was unusually strict about doing it right. I watched the others do it so that there would be no complications when it was my turn. Everyone else had done this before; it was old hat for them and they did not require special instructions. There was a specific sitting posture, much like an eastern meditation position. There was also the requirement to put horse antibiotics in the mouth and swish a specific pattern. I thought this was really strange and I was worried that I would mess it up.
I was last. I was my turn. Sure enough, I’ve already messed up by not being in the right position. I was told to stand up and face the right wall. Where was this in the protocol?
Measurements were taken. I remember remaining clothed….okay I’m okay. Just relax.
Next was the sitting position. I struggled to get back into position. The detox officer checked my mouth…something I had done was WRONG. The loudspeaker was now blaring some orders. It was almost time for everyone to start walking toward the exit cubicle to the far left. There was still time to get this done, but the detox officer had to do his work while the loudspeaker was blaring.
He did something to the roof of my mouth, like pressed a measurement rod to the top of the mouth to mark it for some reason. He did this again, much like taking a pencil and marking the piece of wood where you are going to cut it. Why is he making this measurement? IT HURTS!
He took too long. There is no time for the horse antibiotics. He says, “Get up. Time is up and you all have to go.” But what about the swishing? It was a rhetorical question, I guess. The man disappeared to the beck end of the canvas.
I was last to do the first cubicle detox from my group. It was a specific methodical protocol and the guide was unusually strict about doing it right. I watched the others do it so that there would be no complications when it was my turn. Everyone else had done this before; it was old hat for them and they did not require special instructions. There was a specific sitting posture, much like an eastern meditation position. There was also the requirement to put horse antibiotics in the mouth and swish a specific pattern. I thought this was really strange and I was worried that I would mess it up.
I was last. I was my turn. Sure enough, I’ve already messed up by not being in the right position. I was told to stand up and face the right wall. Where was this in the protocol?
Measurements were taken. I remember remaining clothed….okay I’m okay. Just relax.
Next was the sitting position. I struggled to get back into position. The detox officer checked my mouth…something I had done was WRONG. The loudspeaker was now blaring some orders. It was almost time for everyone to start walking toward the exit cubicle to the far left. There was still time to get this done, but the detox officer had to do his work while the loudspeaker was blaring.
He did something to the roof of my mouth, like pressed a measurement rod to the top of the mouth to mark it for some reason. He did this again, much like taking a pencil and marking the piece of wood where you are going to cut it. Why is he making this measurement? IT HURTS!
He took too long. There is no time for the horse antibiotics. He says, “Get up. Time is up and you all have to go.” But what about the swishing? It was a rhetorical question, I guess. The man disappeared to the beck end of the canvas.
