The Facility

I have a memory that is not a pleasant one at all. It may very well have quite a bit to do with the Rise of the Elven Vor'jen story hosted on rialian.com.

During the last days, when there was war, but it had not yet come to Sarna, we would get very concerned when images of the war would be played during the boosted transmissions from the capital city. At that time, the Village Council of Sarna (which included me as one of its members) was not yet aware that members of the High Council in the city had become Tainted. We were unaware that "medical facilities" had been built in several locations where Tainted magicians were carrying out gruesome experiments. We were told they were centers of Healing as was the Healing Wing of the Temple. We didn't question this.

When the Council in the city sent a message to us by courier asking for volunteers to help in developing new defenses against the vor'jen, we were more than happy to help. They told us they only wanted Kholi'ani to come to the facility. So a group of the Maidens and I set out for the nearest of these "Healing Centers". K'antor and several other civilian Kholi'ani went as well. We took a few Adrastai with us who were also of Kholi'ani blood.

The facility was a low white building, very squared off in shape, not our typical style of architecture at all. It was down the coast a good distance from Sarna, and practically right on top of one of the cliffs overlooking the sea. I got a very bad feeling when I saw that there were no windows, but I knew they must have a good reason for it. I was still far too trusting then.

We went inside and were met by a magician in a black robe. His manners were perfect. He led us into a room where there were several large chairs that looked very much like dentist's chairs do. We were placed into them a few at a time and strapped down so that we couldn't move at all. We got scared then.

The magician performed several tests on us to find out which ones of us contained the specific traits he was looking for. He told us he was trying to isolate the genes for certain abilities we possessed especially being able to run very far, very fast without tiring and shape shifting. He kept bending over and looking into a machine I couldn't determine the function of. My brother, my young cousin and I were among the ones chosen.

We were strapped into the chairs again. This time, the magician inserted needles into the veins in our arms and drew quite a bit of our blood. It wasn't enough to kill us, but it hurt very much as the needles were quite large. It left us feeling weak. It was a very traumatic experience for all of us. No Healer would ever have done something so barbaric. We got through it by Sending to each other of how we needed to make this sacrifice to help save our people from the vor'jen. We had no idea what the magician was really planning to do with our DNA.

When he got everything he wanted, he let us go. We went home and slept for a couple of days. When Torlinque found out what they did to us, he was furious, but I told him it had been for the good of the people. Little did I know.

When it was revealed that they had mixed Elven and vor'jen panther blood to create abominable hybrid "super soldiers" several years later, I was sick to my stomach. I became immediately very distrustful of all things related to Healing Centers or "medical procedures" of any kind. Thank goodness the efforts of those magicians were largely unsuccessful and Tal Leonan found out about it before they mass produced the ones who did live.

Still, I highly suspect that it was our Kholi'ani blood they used to make them with, looking to use the powers of the Teachers within our bloodline in that abominable way. I felt a great deal of guilt for allowing my self and my clankin to be taken advantage of that way, and sometimes I still feel guilty about it. I should have gone with my instinct and turned us around when I saw the building.

This memory has been corroborated by other people in this current incarnation, not only by the story linked above, saying that such facilities existed various places outside the capital city, but also by an Elf I know who remembers raiding a couple of them to rescue people being held in them against their will, then shutting the places down.

As a child in this incarnation, I was scared to death of my pediatrician and my dentist. I would freak out the entire time I was in their offices. I mean kicking, screaming, the works. To get my finger stuck or get a shot, I had to be restrained by my mother and a nurse. The Novocain needle and drill at the dentist were extremely traumatizing. I still can't look at the needle when I have to have blood drawn or have to get a shot. I will sit still for it though.

As an adult, the thought of being admitted to a hospital still scares me to death. I can go visit friends there who may have had surgery or whatever because I know I can leave if I want to, but I will do anything in my power to stay out of the place myself. To go there and not be able to leave when I want to and knowing that something very painful is going to happen to me is terrifying. The smell and the beeping things make my skin crawl. The Facility had that same smell and had beeping things too.

The fear of hospitals and medical procedures is the reason why I opted for homebirths with a Certified Nurse Midwife when my children were born. No way was I going to the hospital, and no way was anyone giving me an epidural, an IV, an episiotomy or anything else. After the first birth, I needed a few stitches. I let her do it, but I freaked out and cried the whole time. Getting stitched was more painful than the whole labor had been, and I could feel the thread running through my skin as she pulled it. That feeling was almost gross enough to make me pass out.

After the second birth, she said I needed stitches again, and I wouldn't let her do it. No way, not after the trauma I'd suffered the first time. She told me it'd take longer to heal, and I told her I didn't care. She insisted. I lay still and she started. She didn't even get the first knot tied before I was freaking out and crying again. "You really hate this don't you?" she asked. "YES!" I wailed. She took pity on me and quit, and I healed up just fine without the stitches.

Only in the last few years was I able to overcome some of my fear of medical procedures. A couple of years ago, I made myself take part in one of the regular company blood drives where I work. I made myself sit in the chair, get stuck with a pretty large bore needle and have an entire bag of blood drawn from me. I wanted to replace the horrible memory of The Facility with a good one. I needed to volunteer again and know that yes, it was indeed going to go toward saving someone's life this time.

But hospitals still freak me right out. If I'm ever admitted to one, they'll have to sedate me, I swear. Proper healing is done with gentle magick in my mind, not by cutting a person open and then stitching them back together. Ick.