Young Again                                                                                   

Felicia Dyson looked at the pictures of all the smiling young people that decorated the doctor’s waiting room. They all looked so happy. Soon she would find out if she could be happy again too.  

A senior couple, a woman and her husband, was seated near her.  She is so lucky to still have her husband Felicia thought to herself.  She struck up casual conversation with them and found out that they were going to do the procedure together, and hoped they would be relocated together as well.

“Mrs. Dyson.  The Doctor will see you now.”  Felicia pushed her 92 year-old frame out of her waiting room seat and carefully walked in the direction of the open door that lead to the examining rooms.  There she was met by a young woman dressed in scrubs who greeted her with a smile, “Mrs. Dyson, room 3, please have a seat on the table while I take your blood pressure.”

After a short wait, a Doctor who looked no older than thirty or thirty-five years of age joined them. “Mrs. Dyson?  Everything on your chart looks good.  OH MY, your birth certificate says you are 92.  You know you were eligible for age regression at 70 under the new Medicare guidelines, why did you wait so long?”

“Honestly, I was still having fun, and I was afraid to relive some of the heartaches of the past.  My Jacob passed 3 months before age regression was possible. Recently my memory isn’t so good. But then my sister did this a year ago, and, Oh that reminds me.  I have a question.  My sister never contacted me after she had the procedure.  Why wouldn't-“

“Mrs. Dyson, she may have signed a privacy request.  Under the 2037 Enhanced Medicare Act, anyone requesting privacy can not have any details of their age regression and relocation reveled, except by court order.”

“Oh my, Doctor…Do you think that’s what she did?”

“More than likely Mrs. Dyson.  Now, I see you have no one to take financial responsibility for you, so the furthest you can go back to is when you were twenty-one years of age.  I see in your paperwork that you were a Data Analyst and have chosen to follow that career path again. Sign here, and we will begin.”

Felicia Dyson put on her glasses and with a hand shaking slightly from palsy, she signed Medicare form 2037-1211-B, Request for Age Regression.  The red sequence number stamped in the upper right hand corner of the form was 89,476,214. 

“Now lay back Mrs. Dyson.  It helps if you think of good times you had back when you were twenty-one. Let me have those glasses.  You won’t need them when you wake up.”  With that the doctor started an I.V., and Felicia Dyson slipped into eternal rest, another unsuspecting victim of the government’s clandestine genocide of its senior citizen population.