The plan was for a nice brunch with one My local subby boys, whose Missus is out of town, leaving him at liberty to serve a little. During brunch it slowly emerged that he had been feeling strange for two days, with a serious of recurring sharp pains at a particular spot in his head. We adjourned to a local home furnishings outlet I like to cruise, I gave him a quick Protect The Property speech, and shortly after arriving he conceded that the attacks were becoming more frequent, and he looked none too good. The pain was clearly intense, albeit fleeting.
Having already had one submissive drop dead early in My kink life, I'm not about to risk it becoming two, so I went full monty Protect The Property on his ass. I took the car keys, and marched us into a walk in clinic a few blocks away. He was acting just a little odd, and his irritability was increasing with the frequency of the pain. We didn't even sign in before I was able to convey enough information to the front desk nurse that she told us to go straight to the ER.
I threw him back in the car and proceeded at a brisk pace to the freeway. I was glad his car is the same type and one step up from My own, as I had immediately a good feel for its handling and felt comfortable pushing it to perform. He fought Me about wanting to go to the hospital near his home, which is both unknown to me and a bit further away, then five minutes later realized why that mattered. Now he was becoming concerned at his own lack of clarity and irritability, and perhaps just a little scared. As he noted, you can cut out a gall bladder; you can live without your arm; but when something's not right with your head, that's a problem.
Upon arriving the ER, I told him to write down Wife's cell number so I could call Her if things got serious. he dutifully took the pen, and proceeded to write his own phone number. This did not make Me feel better. I parked illegally and hustled him in.
Standing in line, we had a quick surreptitious conversation wherein I informed him that for these purposes I was now his daughter. With Wife out of town and him behaving a little oddly, I wasn't about to let him navigate the system alone. I offered My outside voice opinion that it might be a possible cardiac event in progress, which got us into a room without filling out payment forms first. We spent a very competent 3 hours in the hospital. He was quickly on a monitor, and promptly through a CT scan. I was watching the heart monitor and saw a lot of blinking lights that said "irregular" and that he was throwing a fair number PVCs. I don't actually know what that means, but hey, I used to watch a lot of E.R. back when George Clooney and Juliana Margolies were an item, before they had to play Somewhere Over The Rainbow for Dr. Green. Tests all came back fine, thankfully, though the attacks of pain continue and will likely be only partially controlled by the prescriptions. Next steps will be taken, but we have peace of mind knowing he isn't likely to drop dead.
So about a month after I was labelled boy t's Mom, today I was boy e's Dutiful Daughter. This consisted, in part, of keeping the Crocs on his feet to hide his pink toe polish and discretely accepting his precautionarily removed lace panties on the way out of the bathroom. I also learned that at some point in the past, he was arriving a kink event in his cross dressed rig, was spotted by a redneck as a man in a dress, and shortly thereafter returned to find his car heavily keyed. That made Me sad. People may not always appreciate My dominant personality, but it's never triggered physical destruction of My property. Sissy play isn't My kink, but I totally support his right to girl it up. I found it touching that his marriage ceremony included piercing his ears. And I'm touched, honestly, that he wears his nice earrings, a pretty pink button down shirt, and has a good pedicure when he takes Me to brunch.
Upon leaving, I hustled us to his preferred pharmacy, wanting to be sure that at 5pm on Sunday, July 3rd, he would be able to get the prescriptions filled before they closed. That done, we were again hungry and headed for BBQ, then home, whereupon he immediately sacked out, and has remained zonked for five hours. Must be the meds. The pharmacist was very concerned that one of the meds is contra-indicated, but the ER doc had gone off duty so couldn't be reached, and the ER already had administered the first dose two hours before without him crashing, so she reluctantly filled the RX, but strongly encouraged Dutiful Daughter to keep an eye on dear old dad.
So I'm making up the bed in the spare room and expect to have a lightly snoring house guest for the next 24-48 hours. He has an existing doc appt tomorrow, I may even wind up providing chauffeur service. He's apologetic about being unable to serve me, but that's OK. Being a Master is a package deal, and the responsibility flows in all directions. Last fall, j found himself without his Mistress and had to navigate emergent care alone; I wished I had been there too.
I'm mindful that this all is happening right around the anniversary of My first subby's death, from a heart attack at his desk at the age of 34, from a heart condition he had not fully disclosed to Me. I was lucky, really really lucky, that he didn't die while strung up in the dungeon, arms above his head as I beat him for an hour the way he loved. he had been specifically told not to have his arms over his head for any length of time, not that I knew that in the moment. After I went through being horrified at his willful failure to disclose a life threatening condition, and heard the whole family story of his life under intensive and invasive cardiac care from infancy, I understood though. He got to the point that he decided to live his life, instead of letting the disease govern it. So he rolled the dice. Whether it was running bleachers for exercise to get that cute little body of his, or riding that crazy rice rocket at high speed for an hour in the rain to see Me, at the end he lived on his own terms. If I was conservative with today's boy e because a previous boy e died too young, well, I take responsibility for that too.
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