alien abduction, and eye surgery
famous Canadian Science Fiction novelist
Mark A. Carter rants about alien abductions, eye surgery,
and his missing red-eyed tree
In 2007 I had cataract surgery
twice. They don't actually remove the damaged lenses anymore.
That takes too much time. Instead they dissolve the cataract
within the lens pocket in a process called
phacoemulsification, and pop in a synthetic lens.
Badda bing, badda boom, et voilà.
Johnny shirt was handed out when we checked in. Surgical
hats and three sets of eye drops were administered in the outer
waiting room. Six of us at a time were taken into the inner room,
where we were placed on gurneys with our heads dipped back. Mild
sedation was administered intravenously.
And as I looked
around when I should have been lying there and quietly waiting
to be rolled into surgery for the single eye ten minute procedure,
I thought, "The people lying beside me are in a catatonic
state, as if they have been abducted by aliens and were waiting
to be experimented on." I tried talking with them but they
were out there like Pluto. So I told them I was from
Zeta Reticuli, and there to administer their anal probe.
No one protested. Instead, they said, "Okay."
Oi. And no one stopped to ask whether I was from
Zeta Reticuli 1 or 2. God is in the details.
The point of
my experience is that the patients who had never received mild
sedation before likely interpreted the boiler plate surgery as
something other, something far stranger than what it appeared
to me. They most surely saw it as alien abduction and experimentation,
or would once the repressed memory or dissociative amnesia of
the horrific or traumatic event surfaced years later.
The surgical apparatus, namely
the eyelid retractor, was reminiscent of A
Clockwork Orange. Otherwise, the surgery was painless:
more eye drops, incision into the cornea, insertion of the phaco
tool, water draining down my cheek, the placement of the rolled
up lense, and a psychedelic light show that lasted for a few
days. It was all repeated for the other eye in a week. That time
I went blind for eighteen hours, but that's another story.
In 2008, I moved, and my stuffed
red-eyed tree frog with its Velcro
hands and feet went missing. He had been hanging on the
back of my office chair for months. But after the move he was
nowhere to be seen. Instead, I had the faint memory of him lying
helplessly in my open office trash basket where he had fallen
as I packed.
I can't believe that I forgot
about him in my office trash basket, bundled the trash bag, and
threw it and him away while intoxicated with
3-methylmorphine. I believe that seeing him in my trash
basket is a screen memory given to me by aliens who abducted
him through the wall of my home office.
They also planted the idea within
me that he would be found eventually packed where I least expected
it, after the Zetas returned
him from his vacation on their home world. Thus far, after looking
everywhere, I have not found him. If he has been returned to
someone else by the aliens, since other abduction / return accounts
have also commented on the lack of accuracy on the part of these
blue, gray, or green interlopers, please contact me.
feel like a tadpole.
you're looking older.
To see how I worked weird kind
of stuff like this, including aliens, alternate realities, and
drug-induced hallucinations about demonic monkeys, read my
Mythpunk / Science Fiction novel
Hephzibah of Heaven.