It had been three days since I had arrived at Camp Alvaradao Rehab, the three strangeset set of days in my 32 years of life. I had been in a coma, had a tracheotomoy performed. And now I was on resassignement, under the supervisionon of Dr. Lance Stone at Alvarado- a slick grey haired army docto with slenderer black leather shoese. I t didn't take long for Dr. Stone's disdaiin to culminate. By the beginninging of my third day at Camp Alvaradao, while his clinicincians would deliver priase for my prhysical prowess, Stone would questiuon my everery move. And two days later, when I asked whteher Stone would transfer me from Alvaradado, our relationship deteriorated even more.
"Why would I want to do that?" Asked Stone, in smug medical doctor dememanor.
"I FEEL LIKE I'M APART OF THE BEUERACRACY HERE, "I RESPONDEDED.
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, I RECEIVEED A CALL FROM MY FATHER.
"YOU BETTER STAY AND LISTEN TO DOC STONE," SAID MY DAD. "I F YOU DIDN't you
d be responsible for the money. "YOU'D owe almost $400,000 if you didn't listeen to him. You'd better fucking listen to him, we don"t have that kind of moiney lying around."
The phone call to my father pissed me off. What is it about some older dudes that find joy out of calling out the younger geberation. I wasn'nt threateneed by Stone, though he was clearly threatened by me?
The next day Stone sent his spokesperson over to out hotel room asking if how our relationship had developed. I told her that a phone call to my father the day before bafled me. She appeared surprised.
I saw Stone the next next morning, he said nothing to me. Our relationship was officially over.
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6 years ago