I called the company that produces the magical implants and asked them if they could stop or just reduce the number of commercials they play on the bus radio.

They told me that they're a private company and they have no control over what the government puts on the bus radio and that I should contact my representative. I asked why they were the only commercials I ever hear on bus radio and they said that they "asked the government really nicely" to play their ads on the bus radio. They told me that it wasn't their problem if they're really good at asking nicely, and then they hung up.<br><br>That was the third call I made that day. In the morning, I called my representative. They told me that there was a mandate from the board of public transportation that had been enacted a few years ago which said they had to play advertisements for the implant company on at least half of all buses or they wouldn't receive the federal subsidy. Then I called the board of public transportation and they told me that they had absolutely no control over the commercials or how they were made or how often they were played. They said that as long as the commercials were "educational" they had no ability to change them or reduce the amount that were played.<br><br>I ride the bus a lot. I work as a freelance translator and I take on a lot of low paying gigs that pay enough for me to ride the bus to meet with the clients, but not enough for me to buy a car. I've heard the same three commercials so many times I know them by heart. The one with the mom who wants her kids to play sports but they have genetic heart defects that would make that too dangerous, then the dad comes through with the implants and now the kids can play all the sports they want. The one with the blind woman who can't stop bitching about how hard it is to be blind and how much she wishes she could see again, and then she gets the implants and she can see. The one with the woman who had a stroke and can't talk anymore, and then she gets the implants and she can talk again.<br><br>I hate those commercials. They make me want to scream. They play them at least three times an hour and I take a two hour bus ride in the morning and then another one in the evening. By the time I get home, I want to pull my hair out. The commercials play whether people have their headphones in or not, so they're loud enough to hear even if you're listening to something or have ear plugs. It goes against the bus rules to play your music without headphones, but no one enforces it because the bus drivers also have to listen to those commercials all day, every day, and they feel bad for us. They usually tell passengers to turn their music down if they can hear it from across the bus, but they let people play their music out loud if it isn't too loud. It's still hard to focus on my music if half of what I'm hearing is drums and the other half is some fake dad saying "yay implants". <br><br>I don't have the implants. I don't want the implants. I like being how I am and I don't want to give my body over to private enterprise. I don't want to be another commercial for them. There's nothing wrong with my body at all. I don't know if you've ever heard those commercials, since I live on a largely self contained island in the middle of the ocean and you might be from somewhere else. But it seems like half the buses in the country play those commercials all day. I might be exaggerating because I don't ride buses on the mainland, but it seems like they do. Maybe it's not so bad on the mainland. Maybe you won't even know what I'm talking about. But I hate those commercials so much and I don't know what to do.<br><br>The only reason I made the calls was because I'm definitely getting the implants soon. I got hit by a car and I'm going to die. They told me that when I was in the hospital. They said I was too bad off to be saved by normal means and my best chance of survival would be to let them put in the implants. I said no. I begged them not to. I told them not to do it and to just shut off the machines and let me go. They said they couldn't do that and they put them in me before I could even feel what was happening.<br><br>I just woke up one day and I could see out of my ears. When I looked at something, I could zoom in and enhance the image. I could hear whispers from the other side of a busy street. I was in agony when I first woke up. They tell me that the process of putting in the implants is agonizingly painful for the patient, but they gave me "something for the pain" and it was much more comfortable after a while. They told me that they were giving me the lowest possible dose of the implant, but at the time I didn't know what that meant.<br><br>It was a few more days until they told me about the dosage. A few more days until I started asking questions. They had told me I couldn't leave the hospital without implants, but they didn't tell me that I couldn't turn down the low dose implants. By the time I found out, it was too late. They had already put them in me and I was already getting used to them. They had already convinced me to raise the dose. <br><br>For the first week, they only gave me the lowest dose possible. I was supposed to be in the hospital for two more weeks, but I left after one. I didn't have any money. I didn't have a job. I had been out looking for a job when I got hit by the car. I had been a student and I had graduated and I was looking for a job, but I didn't have one yet. I didn't have any health insurance. I didn't have any money. They told me that my only option was to get the implants. <br><br>I don't know how long it was between when they put in the implants and when they told me for sure that I had no choice. I was confused and my brain was all screwed up. They told me I had to stay in the hospital for a month, but they actually kicked me out after a week. I don't know if I remember things out of order. I don't know what really happened or how long it took for them to talk me into upping my dose. <br><br>At first, I was just trying to get out of the hospital. I didn't have any money. I didn't have a place to go. I was hungry and thirsty and tired. I didn't have clean clothes. I didn't have a phone. I was desperate to get out. I told them I'd do whatever they said if they would just let me go. Then they started talking about how my life would be so much better if I got a higher dose of the implant. They said I wouldn't be in pain anymore and I would be able to get better jobs. They said I'd be the envy of all my friends. They said a lot of things that sounded really good to someone who was hungry, thirsty, tired, dirty, and desperate.<br><br>I asked them if they could give me a higher dose without my permission. They said yes and then they did it. They gave me the maximum dose and they told me I'd be happier now. I wasn't. I was in a lot more pain. They told me this would last awhile and then they wouldn't hurt anymore. They did stop hurting, but I'm not happy. I'm not doing well. I'm not doing better. I'm doing worse. I don't like this. I didn't want this. I don't want to live like this. <br><br>They told me I couldn't turn them off. They told me I couldn't take them out. I was trapped. I was trapped in this enhanced body and I didn't know how to escape. I was starting to get used to it. Eventually I just got used to it. It's not so bad. It's tolerable. But I don't like it. It's not what I want. It's not what I would have chosen. <br><br>Then I started hearing the commercials again. I hadn't been on a bus since I got the implants. I stayed home for awhile. I was in pain and I was adjusting to my new life. But then I had to start selling myself because I didn't have any other source of money and I needed money to live. I had to go meet with people who wanted to pay for my body and the only way I knew how to get there was on the bus. So I took the bus and I heard the commercials. They made me want to scream.<br><br>I want to make them stop. I want to go back to my old life. I want to end it all. I don't know what to do. I don't know where to go. I don't know who to talk to. I'm alone. I'm scared. I'm losing my mind. I don't know what to do.