The Senate Intelligence Committee’s report on CIA interrogation of terror suspects is serious business and I don’t mean to be flippant.
But in an unwelcome bit of irony, Melissa and I are resonating with at least one torture technique,
In exhaustive detail, the report gives a macabre accounting of some of the grisliest techniques that the C.I.A. used to torture and imprison terrorism suspects. Detainees were deprived of sleep… One clandestine officer described the prison as a “dungeon…”
So Melissa and I are suffering sleep deprivation as Joey keeps coming into our room – which now feels quite the dungeon – to complain and negotiate,
“The TV is BROKEN?!?!?!?!” (it’s not… but the VCR is.)
“Dad will fix the black TV.”
“Tomorrow dad will go to the store.”
Seriously, Joey’s anxious. So we are anxious. No, we are over into stressed. We’ve tried finding a movie he likes on cable. No relief. He keeps coming in to lament the inoperative VCR and nag us about a remedy.
He won’t sleep. He keeps talking to himself across the hall, then coming over here to lay into us.
Sleep deprivation is torture. We try to make light of it but care givers suffer some of the same stuff that prisoners catch at the hands of sadistic jailers or interrogators.
Add to it life’s usual crap. Hundreds of dollars in copays on some of the family medications, the dog needing to see the vet, an empty ticket book for Joey’s Paratransit bus, drywall work in a bedroom, yada yada yada as Seinfeld’s crew liked to say.
I know, I know. That last paragraph happens to everybody. But add some banging doors, flashing lights and an agitated voice in the middle of the night, and it takes it to a whole new place. And it ain’t a pretty one.