(You can read part IV here)

Featured photo: author’s incision as of this writing.

Dedication for this essay goes to SOFREP sister Ms. Rita Malone Paul.

I surmised, with not too much effort, that the number of times I attempted to unhook from my life support systems to venture off on a more meaningful existence led to the following: a pair of technicians came in one day wheeling a tripod with a six-foot pole in the center, on top of which was mounted an IP camera and speaker.

“Sir, if you don’t mind, we are testing out a new camera system and would like to use you as a subject. If you need anything just talk out loud and the camera will hear you. It is being monitored remotely from another room.”

“Sounds legit; test away,” I invited without much thought.

By and by the nose piece from which I inhaled oxygen became uncomfortable so I pulled it out to give my nose a rest. There promptly came a disembodied voice that beckoned:

“Sir, you need to replace your oxygen nose piece,” the voice came from the speaker mounted with the IP camera.