(Dedication for this write goes to our SOFREP family sister Ms. Charlotte)

Preface: my recent 36-day stay in the hospital began with an emergency surgery that left my entire abdomen open for a period of 3 days before surgeons were satisfied with the disposition of my sepsis to close my abdomen.

Following surgery, I remained unconscious for just over 14 days in Intensive Care. I recall those 14 days in a spotty fashion surviving in a parallel world of dreams overlapping reality and a bout of events that I will only describe as hallucinations due to their stronger-than-normal realism as they existed and executed in my subconscious.

Such was the power and realism of these hallucinations that I remember distinctly that, as they grew increasingly bizarre, I dreaded the possibility that they would overpower my sense of reality once I regained consciousness back into the “real world.” 14 days is a long time to pass in a parallel world, especially for someone like me who on a least one occasion gave zero fucks and challenged the hereafter… the meta-world where there was no tunnel capped by the bright beacon and loving, coaxing gesture… sorry real world for compromising the end if you were reading the book.

There exists a cluster of notes produced at the first opportunity beyond the unconscious realm, notes that I scrawled at the firm recommendation of my brother and author of the book, “A Tale of the Grenada Raiders Memories in the Idioms of Dreams,” Stephen Trujillo.

The following then, is an account of the time as it passed across the 17 days of surgery and subsequent recovery in ICU, with as much detail and chronology as I can muster. Not every line will be believable, as it should not all be believable, that which ultimately lurks just below the cranium, in the very delicate threshold of the subconscious.

…and in passing there came a unique and fanciful weapon system that was brainstormed and brought to fruition by the brothers of the Delta Force. It was a 120mm mortar that was fixed on a huge donut-shaped ring ~10 feet in diameter, painted a drab desert tan color.

The “mortar ring” was (of course) largely computer-controlled with an internal set of weights and ballast that shifted under computer command to establish vertical balance as well as forward momentum. The system was slow to head up steam, but at cruising speed was an equivalent to a brisk jog, all of which was not a miraculous feat for a CPU of only MIPS (millions of instructions per second) capacity, a modest morsel by today’s computing standards.