I’m not sure if it was a dream or it really happened. I know that when I was in the 2nd grade I got really sick. I remember being so weak and feeling so awful I just cried. My mom was a stern woman and didn’t put up with wimpiness, avoided docs unless “necessary” (I sliced my hand open to the bone once and instead of going to doc, she taped it up herself – yes, we were pretty poor). Anyway, I was sick enough to scare her into taking me to the doc, who sent me on to the hospital.

Something I think about often is being examined before they put me in a room with an oxygen tent over the bed. I picture myself on my back, one leg being held up and toward my chest by a man I didn’t know, the other leg being held up toward my chest by my father, and the man I didn’t know was f******** my a******.

My parents have both passed away now, so I can’t ask them about this. While intellectually I know it was probably some kind of medical examination or possibly f**** sample collection, I can’t for the life of me think of a reason my father needed to be there for it, much less assist this man in performing whatever procedure this was. I also can’t quite convince myself it actually even happened (or didn’t happen).

To be honest my recollection makes it seem vaguely s*****.