Thursday, 21 November 2013

spiegelmann

MARIA SPIEGELMANN

A Fictitious Sagacious Saga
About A Healing Angel
Who Loved Me And
Taught Me How To Do It.

By Izzy Ess Of Happiness

Maria Spiegelmann was just a little plump with luscious lips and ample breasts and she looked just great in her tight whites as the Department Head of Suburban Seaman’s really busy Maple Hollow Hospital in NYC’s suburb of Palatial Borough.  The original idea for the small hospital was to service seafarer’s who did dock in NYC’s busy wharf and would need some medical attention after being out at sea.  The Hospital expanded and became a part of the big network of New York City’s Hospitals that had connections to the University and its quite famous Faculty of Medicine and Nursing.

Part of the chapel was dedicated to Saint Brendan the Navigator, an Irish Monk who had infact discovered America centuries before Christopher Columbus and Eric the Red.  In about 350 AD, this adventurous monk had made his own little boats of hemp and animal skins and a single sail and set off from his base monastery in Ireland to point the boat in all directions.  That he reached the coast of Newfoundland was documented by his own writings which describe accuratedly the caost of Newfoundland as well as the coast of what would eventually be Virginia.  No concrete evidence like the Viking rectangular dormitory, was ever found.  However, his writing is still abailable and it documdnts accurately his getting to Newfoundland and Virginia, all around the British Isles, the North and Mediterranean Seas, the west coasts of Africa and Europe, from top to bottom, and all around the east end of the Mediterranean including the very new Holy Roman Empire and the fledgling lands which are now Israel, Lebanon, Libya, Egypt, Greece, Italy, Carthage, and lands just 300 years after the crucifixion.  I believe he would have seen the highly stifled Constantine Pope and might have met with him.  I don’t believe this part of his writings.  This was a plucky, adventurous young monk and his personality suggests he would have been like James Tiberius Kirk of the Star Ship, Enterprise, going where no Irishman had ever been before!  Apparently, he was a loner and meeting with the natives of the strange lands he reached did not seem to be a big priority.  Besides, much of the land he touché upon was uninhabited except for aboriginals, which apparently he doesn’t document, eh? Perhaps he did mingle with the natives and even had intercourse with them.  If so, he didn’t write about it and I believe would have been dangerous for his vows to do so or to tell about it, at all.  I’m guessing he always had a bottle of his finest monastery liqueur with him to keep him warm at nights, but again, that is not documented.  It is more likely that his sexual aggression was curbed by his schooling and upbringing and as a distinct difference between the real Brother Brendan and Captain Jim, was that his sexual aggression was sublimated whereas Kirk often thought with his genitalia.  The scripts of Star Trek would have been a lot less appealing if it were not so.  The appeal of Jean Luc Picard, the Captain of the new and Improved USS enterprise is that he thought with both ends of his body and both sides of his brain.  Brendon would have been more like Data, without the brandy.  Brendon’s documentation was at least asgood as data’s done without the modern computer, eh?  His beatification and saint-like conversion was indeed a Godsend.

My dear readers, Brendan is someone I would have loved to meet and discuss things with.  Incidentally, I am auditioning Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits.  It is perfect accompaniment for this story, or any story, for that matter, eh?  \i must admit that Maria Spiegelmann is the fictional name of someone I really did meet in person and she was exquisite and quite in love with me, as I was in love with her.  In my mind she is still quite real and very sexy and very tragic, like any heroine in literature.  She taught me things, and let me feel things, that I would have never known or felt otherwise…

Our Maria was an A+ nursing student, about ten years ago when was first in her own graduating class.  She was the Valedictorian and delivered an amazingly inspiring speech about how nurses served the doctors and the patients in their respective areas of expertise.  She was recruited actively by Maple Hollow Hospital to head its busy ER.  George Clooney was not there, but many eligible single doctors actively did woo her for romance.  She was quite choosy and could pick and choose whomever she did want to bed for fun and pleasure.  Maria was fastidious in the accuracy of her records and insisted that the nurses under her kept quite accurate accounts of all the ER patients.

My name is Michael Rubenstein.  I was a young professor at the University involved with research and some teaching of the students all enrolled in Medicine and Nursing, with regard to all anatomies and physiologies that were important to their educations.  Maria was quite instrumental in the lining up of cardiology embarrassed patients, including seafarers, who were admitted to the ER for emergencies of heart attacks and strokes.  Her diagnoses were quite accurate.  The new American Cardiologist was eager to explore the physiology and pathophysiology of strokes and heart attacks in indigent heart patients who were coming to the Maple Borough Hospital.  Marie assisted me with the cardiac catheterization to collect the data for my research project strongly supported by the US Government.  Maria was my intelligent and capable assistant and she earned a place of the whole research team for completing the big series of catheterizations for the study.

The research did establish that the early diagnostic testing had prognosticating value with regard to doing early bypass surgery on coronary arteries if the acute attack involved the artery that was the big descending coronary, right down the front of a patient’s heart.  Lives could be saved if these particularly diseased coronary arteries were quickly bypassed by the new procedures which did involve the grafting of the patients’ own leg veins.  Maria was so slick in the piercing of the arteries and veins for insertion of the catheters which were threaded up into the right and left large coronary systems.  Often it was her that quickly obtained samples of the venous and arterial bloods which allowed me to just concentrate on getting angiographic X-ray, dynamic, online, movie photographs of vital active circulations of all the arteries of the beating heart, including all four chambers of the heart.  The dye we used was super-concentrated and would often make the heart have extra beats.  It was Maria who would watch the electrocardiographic monitor to warn us of the extra beats which could get so frequent that a cardiac arrest would happen.  Then it was Maria, who had defibrillating paddles greased and so prepared for the cardiac counter-shock which saved a lot of lives which could have been lost from the complications of the procedures.

I worked so closely with Maria that it seemed inevitable that an accidental touch might lead to romance or at least a night of sex.  Well, dear readers, the touching led to both romance and heavy sex.  It was during quiet times in bed, that my Maria told me her intensive history of sexual activity.  I’ll let Maria tell her story in her own words, eh?

My name is Ms. Maria Spiegelmann. I was born in old New York to parents who had immigrated from the war torn Europe, with many Germans and a great variety of Europeans, and had settled in the New York City Burroughs, usually in Communities of ethnic and cultural big groupings.  The German community was actively against the war and had lost a lot of kith and kin throughout hostilities in Europe and in Asia and in Africa.  I was the first born and the first American of my large family of kith and kin and grew up with radio and television.  I was intrigued by High Society and wished to be a part of it and live out the so-called Dream of the Americans: great wealth, great jobs, new cars, big houses, celebrity, health care and higher education for the offspring, humorously numbered at 2.1 per family.  By the time my breasts developed, the boys at school quite willingly shelled out their cash allowances and their lunch money to feel my breasts or feel me up.  An older negro student started a big enterprise with me as bait and started taking cuts for himself and made me into an expensive commodity.  When I graduated from Palatial Secondary School, my negro friend and I were wealthy.

I did qualify for an escort service in NY for celebrities.  It catered mainly to the higher ups within the mafia and stars of stage and screen that were in NYC for the shows and big productions.  When I was only eighteen, I was proud to have been bedded by Sinatra, Bennet, Lawford and Dean Martin as well as Bugsy Siegel and some other well-known bosses of the Mafia, as well as several famous women who preferred the company of women over men.

There was one Mafia boss who took a personal interest in my health and welfare.  He was married but could easily afford to send me to Nursing School where I excelled with the proviso that I would be his own exclusive mistress and would marry him when he was free of his own wife.  I fell in love with Michael Rubenstein and would have loved to marry him but I could not easily free myself from my sponsoring Mafia boss.  It might have meant my vaporization, or in the very least, a mysterious disappearance.  Michael was kind and sort of naïve about sex and the real relationships between men and women.  However, he learned fast.  I cried for weeks when I had to tell him it was over between us and I’ve never seen him again.  I did achieve the American Dream.  I live in a huge mansion with magnificent new and ancient furniture.  I have at my command some twenty-five employees with whom I dare not dally, though sometimes, I do dare and take my life in my hands.  I depend on the kindness of these secret lovers who do not expose me for my sexual aggressiveness and need for genuine love and tenderness.  I have a chauffeured limousine at my disposal for shopping trips and small excursions into the NY state country side.  I’ve seen practically all the Broadway shows, with or without the company of my new husband.  Often, it is the tall handsome well-dressed chauffeur, packing loaded pistols, that sits beside me in the Royal Box or Balcony.  I don’t want for anything.  I eat gourmet foods and I drink expensive Champaigns.  All my extensive collections of diamond jewelry are not paste but they are the real thing.

I have met hundreds very wealthy people in the Mafia and other dark societies, as well as very famous people in show business and politics, the other dark society in America.  I count as friends many of the starlets and young aspiring stars.  But most of all, I miss my Michael who is now the Chief Cardiologists at Cleveland Clinic. Famous for its advances in the field.  He is still quite handsome.  I can follow his career without causing any suspicion of my true love for him, but meeting him for a rendezvous could be most unhealthy for both of us.  I’ve wondered if he still thinks about me even though he is happily married to another cardiologist who works with him at Cleveland Clinic.  She is pretty and I’m sure she benefits from our experiences with love and sex.  I’m sure he’s never told his wife about me.  He has four children and I’m sure they’re all handsome, pretty and very intelligent.

I love you Michael!  I’ll always love you!  Maybe our spirits will meet in the Afterlife.  Of course, you will be in Heaven while I will be firmly ensconced in Hell.  We’ve both earned our places in America’s High Society.  You are famous and I am infamous.  Is there really a difference, except in the minds of the righteous, judgemental members of American society?  Future generations may see us much differently than the present lot of puritans.  Aboriginals would understand and hold as equally in awe for our aggressive leadership, eh?

My associate and I won the Nobel Prize for Medicine and Science soon after our pioneering work with cardiac catheterization in the ER.  We gave credit to the brave medical student who catheterized his own heart and was expelled by a German Medical School Dean of Stupidness because he felt it was against the Laws of God to put a catheter into the heart!  I wished I could have shared it with Maria but I was well aware of how another Dean of Stupidness would make a self-righteous judgement publically and have her fired or otherwise punished for her brilliant work that a mere woman, with a shady past, shouldn’t be diddling with.  In Stockholm, I thought about her the entire time that I was accepting my huge Prize and Honours.  Wonderful job offers for myself and my colleagues were already pouring in.

I have no way of knowing about the future of my one true love.  I am afraid that it may be a tragic end for her, because that’s the way she would want it.  You could say that she successfully made her bed and now sleeps uncomfortably within it.  I fantasize about one delicious surreptitious interview and interlude, but I’m sure it will never happen.  My tears are happy ones for you and I.  Happy Landings, my dear Maria.  I wish for you every bit of Peace and Happiness that you surely deserve.  You have been instrumental in saving myriads of lives, including mine.    I will love you, forever.  Perhaps our spirits will be together in Heaven, or Hell, or in a wonderful Garden of Eden, somewhere in Paradise.  Amen and Hallelujah!

THE END

© izzy sommers, md
Welland, Canada

November 21, 2013

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