Hoo-Wee!

Stoned. STONED!

I'm 52 years old. I grew up in the late 60's, early 70's. I inhaled. (A lot.)

But I've gotta tell ya, I'd NEVER been as stoned as I was yesterday and today.

See, I took the time to advise he anethetist that I've often woken up from procedures, starting with my tonsilectomy when I was 5 to my recend endoscopy this year. I also mentioned that I might have threatened the proctologist's life during the most recent event. And so, in order to defend my sensitivites, my arrest record, and the proctologist's life, I believe she took it upon herself to "take it to the limit" with the dosage. To paraphrase: "That which does not kill me, can only make me more stoned."

Ed has awakened me before from this sort of adventure, but he claims it was considerably more difficult this time. From my standpoint, there was no direct connection between my motor/tactile skills and reality. I could reach for things and they wouldn't be where I was reaching. I would barely touch things and miss them by 1/4 inch, only to try again and miss them by a full inch next time. Trouble was, I wasn't undershooting one time and overshoothing the next.... I was undershooting progressively both times!

Eating dinner at our fave restaurant was really interesing. Ever try sucking on a straw that wasn't in your mouth? Eat a chicken wing that wasn't in your hands? Staggering in and out of a restaurant like a street person?

Anyway, I did the procedure, ate dinner, came home to sleep, and woke up this morning at 11:45 when our neighbor came over to borrow the hand mixer.

"Did I wake you up?"
"I dunno, am I awake? Am I alive?"

So regardless, I've been stumbling around the house for the last 2+ hours. Wonder if I should go for a motorcycle ride. NOT!

BTW - the tastebuds seem to be working semi-normally. No nausea.