I spent the next three days after I got my Implant in hospital. Not because of the minor surgery, but because of a rather unfortunate and unforeseen occurrence that happened later. I walked into the sushi bar with a knot of apprehension in my stomach that was almost as big as the faint pangs of hunger gnawing away at me. The host greeted me warmly in English with a bow and a smile.
“Good afternoon.”
I’m not sure which of us was more surprised when I answered him in flawless Japanese. We chatted for several minutes and I was amazed at my fluency. The words were just there! I knew what they meant, my sentence structures and diction were second nature and I used every verb, noun and conjunctive as if I’d been born speaking the language. My Implant was working perfectly, just the way it was designed and exactly the way it was advertised. I was so happy; money well spent indeed.
I ordered Nigiri- sushi a la carte; Hotate and Maguro, Kodako and Saba. The menu was extensive and I was cheerfully enjoying rattling off the names of the dishes and impressing the chef as he prepared each one meticulously in front of me. I was happily tucking into an offering of delicious Hamachi when the problems started. First there was a tingling in my mouth and for a moment I though that there was wasabi in the food but it was just delicious fish. I looked at the chef and tried to ask him a question, but my lips and tongue had already started to swell.
Panic set in. Panic? I freaked out completely as the skin on my arms began to itch, dozens of tiny ants crawling just beneath the surface. I wanted to scream, wanted to shout for help in English, Japanese, anything that would bring me assistance. I tried to stand and a wave of dizziness hit me like an eighteen wheeler. I fell to my knees, vomited profusely and as my vision blurred and I lost consciousness I couldn’t help but notice how pretty the patterns on the wood grain floor were.
When I woke up in hospital the doctor explained to me that I’d had a rather severe reaction to my meal. I don’t think I’d ever really realised that sushi was mostly made up of raw fish and the doctor told me that I should avoid shellfish because I was allergic to it; who knew? On the whole my first experience with my new Implant turned out to be less than spectacular and if I’m honest it put a complete damper on my enthusiasm for Japanese culture as a whole. I had all this knowledge stuck in my head and I really didn’t want it any more.
The first thing I did when I got out of hospital was to head back to the Delphi-Pharma clinic to talk about my problem. The nice lady behind the reception desk was as cheerful and helpful as before. She listened sympathetically and then asked me to wait while she arranged for someone to talk to me. So I sat for what seemed like forever and watched the exotically coloured fish in the large tank in the reception shoal and swirl around. The colours were almost mesmerising and to my consternation I found myself naming the species I recognised in Japanese. I would be so glad to get rid of all this useless information and get back to normal; so much for pie in the sky dreams of instant knowledge.
After what seemed like forever, but what was probably only ten minutes a genial, sharply dressed man came over to me, shook my hand and ushered me into an office. I was surprised to discover that he wasn’t a clinician or a doctor; he was a Delphi-Pharma lawyer. He listened to my problem, sympathising profusely right up until I told him that I wanted the Implant out of my head. His perpetual smile turned glassy for a moment and it seemed like the temperature in the neat office had dropped a few degrees.
“I’m terribly sorry but that’s impossible.” The lawyer said.
“What do you mean impossible? I want it gone!”
“I’m afraid the Implant can’t be removed without a surgical procedure that is invasive and potentially dangerous.”
“I’m stuck with it?”
“Yes, it was covered in the small print in sub-clause F. You did read the sub-clauses?”
“I think so.”
“That’s okay then.”
“It is?”
“Oh yes indeed. But here at Delphi-Pharma we always like to leave our customers happy and that’s why we’re willing to offer you another Implant at no extra charge.”
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely.”
Another Implant? After having so much trouble with my first one I was taken aback at the thought of a second. I’d walked into the clinic with every intention of having my existing Implant removed and now here I was contemplating another one. Seriously contemplating it to such an extent that I knew after a few moments what I was going to do.
“Cool! When can I get it done?” I said.
“Let’s see when we can fit you in.”
The Delphi-Pharma lawyer grinned at me in the same friendly way that sharks don’t and reached for the telephone as I tried to figure out what new Implant to get.
The Implant Page 3
