Wading Through The Wetlands – Chapter 3

So, I got linked to this by @Julia_Nyx:

Yes, there is going to be a Wetlands movie in Germany. I wish they’d release it in Canada just so I could go to the theater and see people’s reactions to it. If people puked over Hostile, I bet they’d be barfing over this too. ^_^’

Also, Sebastian totally found this in his house:

I feel like the cover is misleading.

Anyway, on to chapter 3! This one’s actually not so painful, so enjoy!

Helen wakes up in the recovery room, reflecting on how recovery rooms exist so that people don’t have to see their loved ones all messed up from anesthesia.

I’m awoken by my own babbling. What was I saying? Don’t know. My whole body is shaking. Slowly the gears in my mind begin to turn. What I’m I doing here? Did something happen to me? I want to smile to try to hide my sense of helplessness even though there’s nobody else in the room.

This right here shows something important about Helen’s personality. She doesn’t want to appear helpless, and her knee jerk reaction is to smile to make others see that she is strong. She just got her asshole operated on, and she is worried about how others will view her strength, not embarrassed about how she got there.

My lips are so dry that the corner of my mouth cracks when I do smile. My asshole! That’s why I’m here. It had cracked, too. My hand fumbles for my bum. I feel a huge bandage stretched across both ass cheeks. Through that I feel a thick knob. Oh man, I hope that knob isn’t part of my body.

Like this, but on an ass.

After inspecting her bandages, Helen laments the hospital gown she’s wearing. She thinks that an apron type garment is stupid, and that because she was laying on her stomach the whole operation, she might as well have been naked.

I’m sure they talk about the way you look. And you hear it and remember it subconsciously even though you’re knocked out – maybe someday down the road you’ll go nuts as a result of the comments and nobody will understand why.

I’ve never thought of that. And now if I ever have to have surgery I will, thanks, Helen.

Helen is reminded of a recurring nightmare from her childhood, where she forgets to put on underwear before going to the school bus stop in a skirt. At that age she says she would rather die than have anyone know she was bareassed under her skirt.

Robin shows up to tell her that everything went smoothly, and starts to push her through the hospital back to her room.

I use the time to find out about my asshole. It’s a funny feeling that Robin knows more about it than I do. He’s got a clipboard with every detail about me and my ass on it. I’m feeling talkative and all kind of jokes about bum surgery occur to me.

Robin comments on the fact that Helen is so relaxed because of the anesthesia, and tells her he could talk to her for ages but he has other patients to check on. I have to say, if I were a nurse and a young woman was admitted for ass surgery that could make jokes about it, I would be pretty keen on hanging out with her too. Honestly, that would be awesome. I’m sure nurses really appreciate cool patients like that.

Robin tells Helen to push the call button if she needs medication, and she asks where her skirt and underwear are from before the surgery. He shows her that they’re neatly folded underneath the sheet at the foot of the bed.

Helen notes that this is her mother’s worst nightmare, because her panties are folded with the crotch facing up.

I have been waiting to be able to use this picture for SO long.

Her primary justification for her ridiculously obsessive approach to clean undies: if you get run over and end up in the hospital, they take your clothes off. Including your underwear. Oh my God. And if they see any evidence of your pussy’s totally normal discharge – oh my, can you imagine?

I love sarcasm.

I think mom pictures everyone in the hospital going around talking about her, saying what a dirty whore Mrs. Memel is. Saying her well-put-together exterior is nothing but a lie.

This gives us a little more insight into Helen’s mom’s character. She’s so wrapped up in being neat and clean and having everyone see her as neat and clean. And Helen is rebelling against her in the only way she knows how; by not being neat and clean.

Her dying thought at the scene of an accident would be: How long have I been wearing these panties? Are there any wet spots on them?

The first thing doctors and EMTs do with a bleeding accident victim, before starting to resuscitate? They have a peek at the blood-soaked underwear so they know what kind of woman they’ve got on their hands.

This made me laugh, I’m not going to lie.

Robin pulls out the call button for Helen, and she inspects her room. She examines the light green walls, the wardrobe, the rolling metal nightstand with a drawer, the windows  to her right, and the sill containing the box of diapers and a box of gloves.

On the wall opposite me is a framed poster – you can see the little metal tabs that hold the glass. It’s a photo of a tree-lined avenue, and written in yellow letters at the top it says, Walk with Jesus. What – take him for a stroll?

Very clever.

Here we learn about Helen’s outlook on religion, and we’re going to keep learning about it. It’s another way that Helen rebels against her mother, but also she doesn’t seem to understand Catholicism. Her examination of religious things is interesting, because she asks a lot of questions that skeptics or atheists wouldn’t normally ask.

Why do they stick pieces of greenery on crosses? The poster and the crucifix have to go. I’ll convince mom to take them down. I’m already looking forward to that discussion. Mom’s a practicing Catholic.

Helen notices a TV hanging from the ceiling, and wonders how secure it is, mentally noting to get Robin to shake it later to make sure. She reaches over to the drawer and feels the pull in her ass.

The remote is in a plastic compartment in the drawer. Everything’s cool. Except the anesthesia is wearing off. Do I need to ring and ask for painkillers already?

Helen decides to wait a bit and see how she feels.

I clench my teeth. My mind is fixated on my wounded ass. I’m tensing up all over. Especially in my shoulders. My good mood has disappeared. Robin was right. I don’t want to come across as a whiner, though – especially after yapping so much to Robin. I can hold out a little longer.

Helen is more like her mother than she realizes, I think. Here she doesn’t want to appear a whiner, even though they gave her a call button knowing she would need medication. She wants to seem strong and able to deal with this herself, even though she’s in immense pain. Helen’s mother is obsessed with appearances, though in different ways.

I push the button and wait. An eternity. I panic. The pain is getting worse, stabbing at my sphincter like a knife. They must have stretched the sphincter wide open. Of course. How else would they get in there. Down my throat?

I feel like this book should be given to young teens who want to experiment with shaving their bits. Just go to a waxing salon, guys.

Robin finally arrives and instead of asking for meds right away, Helen wants to know:

“Do they stretch your butthole open wide enough to fit multiple hands into it?”

Robin confirms this, and tells her that the stretching will be the main source of the pain when the anesthesia wears off in a few minutes. Helen starts to panic over the fact that the meds will take a while to start working.

I’ve got to learn to give in to pain and become a patient who’d rather ring too soon for medication than have to make it through the minutes it takes for the stuff to kick in. There’s no medal for holding out against pain, Helen. My asshole has been fatally distended.

This here is Helen’s character learning and growing. Not only does it help the reader relate and root for her, but it makes sense for the situation. Good writing. Yay!

It feels as if the hole is as big around as my entire ass. There’s no way it will ever close normally again. I think they purposefully inflicted additional pain during the operation.

And here’s where it seems Helen is starting to get irrational. But in this next bit, we learn that we haven’t even hit the tip of the irrational iceberg.

I was in this same hospital a few years ago. It was the greatest acting job of my life.

Helen was failing French class and needed an extra day to study for the exam. She had faked a migraine to miss the previous exam, and had needed something more convincing to give her more time to study.

First thing in the morning I told my mom I had palpitations in my lower left abdomen. And that they were getting worse. Mom started to worry because she knew this was a sign of appendicitis. Even though the appendix is on the right side. I know that, too. I started to double over in pain.

This is from an actual web site on appendicitis.

Helen’s mom drove her to her family doctor, and Helen made a show of shrieking in pain when he pressed on the left side of her abdomen. He told Mrs. Memel to take Helen to the hospital immediately, because she had acute appendicitis.

Off to the hospital. This one. Upon arrival I put on the same show. Left, right, all the right reactions. Like a game. Emergency operation. They cut me open and find an appendix that’s not infected or swollen at all.

The doctors took it out anyway, and didn’t tell Helen, but they told her mother.

When she caught me lying another time, she said: “I can’t believe anything you say. You lied to me and all the doctors just to get out of a French exam. They took an uninfected appendix out of you.”

Could you imagine your kid doing that? I don’t have kids, but I think I would have been more than a little pissed off that my kid went and got emergency surgery just to get out of an exam. And from Helen’s perspective, I get hating French class (I hated it in school too), but how damaged do you have to be to go through with surgery to skip it? I hope Germany has free health care.

Helen was glad to know that it had been taken out, because she’d been worried since the operation that it would actually get infected and then they wouldn’t open her up because she had cried wolf before.

Is it possible the doctors recognized my name? Did it cause a sensation in the hospital back then – that a girl would endure an operation just to trick her teacher? Did they go out of their way to make this operation particularly painful – oops, I slipped – as payback? Am I paranoid because of the pain?

Maybe yes, maybe no. I think if I’d have pulled a stunt like that, I would probably be wondering if the doctors were holding a grudge as well. It’s possible, really. Robin shows up with the pills and Helen takes them, putting her hand between her legs to calm herself down.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s the most important part of the whole body. Nice and warm. Perfectly positioned for your hand to reach. My center. I stick my hand into my underwear and run my hand around. This is the best way to put myself to sleep.

Somehow, I feel like that’s a good way to stay awake.

I root around like a squirrel down there, and just as I’m falling asleep I have the impression that there’s a log of crap poking out of my ass.

Am I alone in laughing at this awesome sentence? Yes? Ok. Also, is Robin still in the room? It doesn’t say that he left, but he’s not referenced again in this scene, so I’m assuming he’s gone. If not, then Helen is super comfortable rubbin her girl bits in front of strangers.

I dream that I’m walking across a wide field. A field of parsnips.

For those of you who don’t know what parsnips are, they’re like soft white carrots. My family is Hungarian, so I’ve eaten them a lot in my life, I guess they’re big in Germany too.

YUMMAY! I’m so excited about a vegetable reference that has nothing to do with insertion.

I can see a man in the distance. A Nordic walker. One of those guys who hikes with a pair of ski-pole-like walking sticks. I think: Look, Helen, a man with four legs.

He approaches and I can see a giant cock is hanging out of his form-fitting sports leggings. I think: Nope, a man with five legs.

He walks past me and I turn and watch him go. It pleases me to see he’s pulled his pants down in the back and a huge log of crap is hanging out of his ass, bigger even than his cock. I think: Wow, six legs.

Why is she pleased? You know, I don’t think I really want to know. Helen wakes up and moves her hand from the front to the back to feel her bandages. She really wants to see what happened back there, and thinks about how she would do so.

A mirror? No, a camera. Mom needs to bring me the camera.

Lady, none of us want this job.

I bet Mrs. Memel knows better than to ask why her daughter will need a camera. Helen gets the answering machine when she calls.

“It’s me. Can you bring the camera when you come? And can you wrap up the bulbs in my room without breaking the shoots? And bring the empty glasses, too, please. But hide them when you come in, Okay? You’re not allowed to have anything but cut flowers here. Thanks. See you soon. Oh yeah, can you also bring about thirty toothpicks? Thanks.”

And that’s the end of the chapter. Next time, we get to learn about avocado trees! And exactly how Helen fertilizes them. I’ll leave you with that thought.

I’m not going to say yum to this one. Because I’m sad about it.

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