Larry Hagman is Muy Caliente

I had a minor surgical procedure today and was given IV sedation. Turns out it was the same drug that Michael Jackson was taking to help him sleep. I woke up feeling a bit muddle-headed which wore off pretty quickly but I had the almost unstoppable urge to be funny. Or at least what I thought was funny.

This made me think about all the procedures I've had in the last 10 or so years mostly related to my breast cancer diagnosis. Almost every time, no matter the drugs used, I've done or said something stupid or just plain weird.

When I had my reconstruction, I was on a morphine IV for pain. I had a Doppler monitor attached to me to make sure that the surgery site maintained a good blood flow. If you've never heard a Doppler, it goes something like this: Woosh......Woosh.....Wooosh. A bit like a mushy heartbeat. Anyway, I became convinced that I was hearing voices speaking through the Doppler monitor. Specifically, I was hearing Larry Hagman. Why Larry Hagman would decide to speak to me via a medical device never entered my mind but I kept saying to my Mom "Can you hear him? Can you hear him? What was that he said?" I also dreamed I was typing on a keyboard made of feathers. This frustrated me because I kept making mistakes. My Mom told me later that I was typing on my bed covers in my sleep.

My experience with Versed was just as strange. Right before I was given the Versed, a male Hispanic OR tech sprayed my throat with a banana flavored anesthetic. Immediately the Versed was pushed into my IV. Before I went to sleep, I became convinced that I should speak Spanish and decided to tell the OR tech that the anesthetic spray was spicy. The last thing I remember is telling him, rather seriously and urgently, was "Muy caliente." Now, I've watched enough episodes of Dora to know that caliente is the word for heat hot not spicy hot so I'll blame the Versed but why I felt the need to speak to him in Spanish at all shall remain unknown. Just trying to make a connection, I guess.

After one surgery I woke up in recovery and told my Mom, "I'm so hungry I could eat a Kleenex." Another time I kept trying to tell my surgeon what to do. We were in the OR and I had already been given something to relax me and it apparently relaxed my judgement as well. I was sure that he had left some very vital equipment in another OR and kept insisting that he check to see that he had it. The last thing I remember from that incident was an imploring look from my surgeon to the anesthesiologist.

I asked the staff in the OR today to disregard anything I said. My anesthesiologist was Korean so I was worried. They laughed and said they would not ask leading questions but couldn't promise to stop me once I started. As far as I know, I did not try to tell my doctor how to do anything nor did I attempt to speak Korean. I say as far as I know because I don't remember anything after verifying my name and birthdate.....and maybe the post-surgical smirk on the nurse's face was my imagination.

The Monster of Love

This past weekend my daughter went to Homecoming with a boy she has liked since 4th grade. He is a nice young man who goes to our church. He's older than she is and able to drive which is a whole other issue in itself but that's not why we're here today.

The boy, who we'll call Trent, is a bit shy and as new at this relationship stuff as my daughter is. He hasn't learned "THE RULES" yet; the first and most important rule being "Text back in a timely manner or else the girl will begin to panic".

Okay, but here's the thing: I begin to panic as well! What's up with that??? I am surprised and appalled at the feelings that rise up in me as my daughter makes her way through this previously unexplored land. The other evening my daughter went to bed sure that the boy had changed his mind about her, "second-guessed his decision." After she went to bed, I was changing in my closet and said to my husband "I think I might have to kill Trent tomorrow." And this was based on pure speculation - no facts! I think I've climbed into Mr. Peabody's Way Back Machine and been transported back to puberty!

Thankfully my husband is (and always has been) the more logical of the two of us. He quoted (sort of) "The Princess Bride" to me and said "He seems a nice fellow. I hate that you have to kill him." Nothing like a PB quote to bring you back to reality in a jiffy. I started laughing and said "Who am I? What's happening to me?" Since he does know THE RULES and knew the question wasn't meant to be answered, he just shrugged and walked away.

Remember the Texas Cheerleader Mom who tried to take a contract out on her daughter's competition? To again quote a movie, "I have become what I beheld." (Elliott Ness, The Untouchables) I'm finding it easier and easier to see things from her crazy side of the asylum fence.