Date: Fri, 2 Mar 2012 10:13:24 -0500 From: TAJocelyn Subject: May Be Fiction Part 1 This may be a work of fiction; I will leave that up to you to decide. Having said that... The people portrayed in this work are fictional and have nothing to do with anyone living or dead. Any similarities to myself or anyone else are purely coincidental. Two years ago; I was a forty year old man with a bad heart, sugar diabetes and poor eyesight. Today; I just attended my first middle school dance with Johnny Rodgers and he just kissed me good night! I can hear what you're thinking, "Yeah, right, sure, pass me the shot nurse". In my case it's not in my head. At first I wish that it where only a strange dream brought on by the huge assortment of drugs that I used to take for my bad health. Then after a while I couldn't believe I had ever been anyone else other than who I am today. Let me start from the beginning, Kind of. I can't be too explicit about the details as this would allow my ex- coworkers to find me. So let's just say that I worked for a collage as a research assistant. Not the truth, but close to it. I will call myself James. In our genetic code is a wonderful chemical link that controls how many times a cell can reproduce. This link is one of the major reasons we age. At a certain point our cells slow or stop their reproduction and we end up with a whole host of geriatric diseases. I wanted to end our dependence on these chemical links. So I worked on some discoveries made by other people. One of these used a chemical solution to bind the links so that they could not degrade and thus it would not stop the reproduction of new cells. The only problem was that the amount needed would put the test subject into anabolic shock. In other words, "Kill them." For two years I tested several thousand chemicals that would do the same binding trick. Looking for one that would not kill my test subjects. Obviously I found one or you wouldn't be reading this story. The chemical seemed perfect. 97% of my test animals survived. So I made a template from a lock of my hair that was in my baby book. Now any of you who work in a lab know that in fact I made several dozen. So I mentioned that I had bad eyesight, right? I guess you can see where this is going. Of my templates: several where unusable because of chromosome damage. Yes, I marked them with a big, "x" for do not use. My sharpie was old and dried out so my, "x", looked like a, "y" on one of them. So why would I use this stuff on myself and not just a cell culture? I had a heart attack. The collage not wanting anyone to steal my work planned on replacing me while I was in the hospital recovering. Sure, right, how much for that house on mars and do you accept magic beans? Several days later: When I arrived at my lab I was surprised to find the military guarding the door. I guess my replacement didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. 97% is better odds than any of the childhood inoculations that anyone has ever received. It's almost a "sure thing" and the government would make sure that the right people would control this "sure thing". So I destroyed my research one night and took only one template, the wrong one. Did I mention that at the time my eyesight really sucked? How did I get in? How did I destroy it? A funny thing about labs; they explode and burn really easily. A flammable liquid left out on a counter, a shaved wire, some steel wool and boom! You have an explosion. An explosion that can't be examined because such research is illegal and someone may find out. And then that night, as my computer files just happened to be updating when the server room had a similar accident. Industrial espionage they all cried! So who was I to disagree? We were closed down. They took my home computer and all my notes that they could find and warned me what would happen if I attempted to revive my studies. I and my family would disappear. And just in case, Like Lazar I would have no way of proving who I worked for and would join the ranks of the discredited men who claim to be scientists. I guess that the government man in charge of searching me had a thing about putting his finger up another guys bum. Because he didn't and I walked away with a USB memory stick stuck up my ass! I waited several weeks before I retrieved my template from my old office. Who would suspect what you can hide inside a chia pet! I'm just glad that no-one watered it or this story would have been over. Now for the Frankenstein stuff! The chemical I found is made naturally by your body. It only needs a template to reproduce itself and alter the genetic material of the subject. But this wouldn't happen immediately, the body would alter over several days. This part would be extremely painful, so I kept my subjects unconscious. The subject would go to sleep old and riddled with disease, then wake in a rejuvenated state. That's what I planned for myself and my family. I was just the first step, one in which I tripped. At my parent's home, we had an old barn built two hundred years ago. The barn has a cellar cut right into the bedrock. The upper part burned down in the sixties leaving the cellar with its stone ceiling intact. I used the place as an office, workshop, and bedroom from the time I first went to school in the seventies. And I could keep an eye on my parents. So I started my new project. The first thing I built was the chamber; just a hospital bed mattress in a plastic tube with a door that can be sealed from both sides. To this I added a fitted oxygen hookup and various electrical hook ups for my computer to monitor the process. For certain reasons the tube needs to be airtight with pure oxygen during the process. That was the dangerous part. A single spark and foosh! You're an overcooked turkey. When I assembled the chamber, it looked like something from a science fiction movie. A cross between an emergency room and a transporter! By the way did I mention that I hate needles? 25 bags of saline solution mixed with my template would be pumped through my body. So I added a catheter and enema to my list of achievements. I am and always have been a computer freak. So the automation was a snap for someone like me. The day finally came to test my treatment. I told my mother that I was doing a sleep study and not to let anyone into my workshop for at least five days or the test would be ruined. My father, who was in second stage dementia wouldn't be a problem as he hadn't left the house in two years. This was another reason to test it on myself. On my computer I placed an automated message with instructions in case something went wrong. How to remove the catheter, remix the chamber, and resuscitate me if needed. I never imagined what really was about to happen. I closed the door to the chamber and started the IV computers. The sedative worked like a charm. I was asleep by the count of ten. Ten, Funny That Number now that I think about it. I was in pain, my chest felt like it was bursting, and every bone in my body felt like it was broken. I could hardly see through the tears in my eyes. I heard the pinging of my computer..something went wrong! I couldn't move my arms and my legs felt like they belonged to someone else. I saw a silhouette of someone standing over me. "James, is that you?" It was my mother, but she sounded strange. Her voice sounded different, like something from a memory. A memory of when I was a child? All I could manage was, "mom my chest hurts call an ambulance". Then everything went black. I awoke several days later in the hospital. The doctors where outside my room arguing: "How did a stent get inside a ten year olds heart?" The first thing I thought was, "Christ could they be any louder? And why would a ten year old need a stent?" Another thing," How did she get a catheter in her urethra?", "That thing was the size for a full grown male!" All I could think in my half dazed state was, "Wow that kid was really messed up." Then they came through my door. "Hello sweetie, what's your name?" Yes, these where the first words spoken to me in my new, "improved?" body. That's not funny Dr Cline. My name is James and you have been my family doctor for ten years! "It wasn't my voice!" I coughed and said again "I'm James", "I'm James!" I shook my head. I felt weird. I looked down at my bed. "WHAT THE HELL!", "Whose legs are they", "What happened to my hands", "Why am I so Short?", "What Happened to My Voice?" I could hear a child's voice screaming. It was my voice. Then something strange happened. I started to cry, just like a child would. "Where's My Mom!" I couldn't help it. My new body was in control now. With everything that means for a ten year old child. Now, my mother was always a strong woman and no-one messed with her children. Did I mention that I got most of my smarts from her? Dad was an intelligence officer in Korea, but mom was always smarter. And she heard her kid crying! (Remember the message on the computer? She figured it out before me, and I'm the scientist!) That's my granddaughter Jamie! What are you up to? Who made you cry baby? My mom was on fire! You leave her alone! "HER??" I passed out. When I awoke I heard my mother telling the most outlandish story I had ever heard from her. I was her granddaughter from that girl I (James) shacked up with when I was in the military. I (James) was overseas trying to get an adoption ruling from FRANCE?? She was playing in her father's lab and accidently hurt herself. She needs to go home. All you're doing is scaring her! My head was spinning, but I caught her message and ran with it. Bonjour, my name is Jamie, I am from France. (Good thing I speak French!) I was playing doctor and hurt myself. My father will be mad when he returns. I was bad and played in his lab. The doctors in France put the thing in my chest to help my heart. This did the trick. For over an hour the grownups argued about Socialized Medicine and bad doctors! I couldn't believe it. How could they be so easy to fool? Then I got my first look at my new face in the mirror of my bed stand. My eyes where the biggest, brownest, puppy dog eyes that I have ever seen! And my face was like a child movie stars face. (I can't say who because then it would be easier to find me.) As a man this child would have wrapped me around her pretty little fingers! She, I, was the kind of little girl that every father dreams of! So I threw up. This is the end of part one. I have school tomorrow and mom just brought me my hot cocoa and I still have to go on facebook and rub it in Michelle's big nose that Johnny Kissed Me Tonight! I hope dad doesn't kill him when he finds out! K ;) XOXO