Don't Laugh At Me, If I Go All Loopy: Find Me a Bathroom, Frappe, Piece of Cake, or Something!

Like the weather, I'm a little foggy about what happened, last night.

At the risk of TMI (you're welcome!) suffice it to so that even at the lowest possible dosages of Demerol, my system shuts down and, much to the surprise of everyone (most especially, my obstetrician) I fall asleep.

Yep, right in the middle of giving birth...four times.

So, to me, non-drowsy simply means: will render you comatose for at least twenty-four hours AND anything stronger than ibuprofen...well...I go ALL loopy-like.

Which, for someone who suffers from seasonal allergies AND chronic lower back pain (like I do, dammit) is SO not a good thing, but sort of funny, too.

"AH...AH...AH...AHCHOO...OWWWWWWWW!...great, now I gotta go pee!"

Unless, I sneeze and, well, it's all over (literally).

So, when the cat scan for "the little kidney stone that could" came back and showed a herniated disc in my lower spine and signs of stenosis (triple bonus points!) I was all, like, grrrrrrrrrrrrrreat, where's the bathroom?

I finally met with a neurosurgeon, this week (came highly recommended by two of my husband's clients, with similar diagnosis, who also happen to be under the age of 50) the surgeon insisted I get an MRI, like, now.

Did I mention (burp) I AM (shudder) VERY (gag) CLAUSTROPHOBIC?!?

"What if I gave you a prescription of valium, would that help?"

I told him that I honestly did not know, never had one and I've also managed to avoid having an M.R.I., this long, because I am THAT CLAUSTROPHOBIC!

I drove my oldest daughter to the hospital yesterday afternoon (she works in the gift shop) since the M.R.I. was scheduled at the same hospital and I would finish about the time her shift ended (burp, pardon me!) then, my husband would drive us both home.

"Don't laugh at me if I go all loopy, okay?!?"

She thought I was exaggerating AND tried real hard not to laugh, at least, that's what she keeps telling me.

"Are you serious, you don't remember anything?"

Not the part about my husband driving me to the hospital and definitely not the way Garth (not his real name) tells it on Facebook:

Last night I took the wife for her long overdue MRI.
The Dr. gave her 1 valium because tiny spaces make her a wee bit NUTZ!
I've never seen her take one before so it was quite funny.
As it took effect, she swore "stupid pill isn't working".
Meanwhile she's all giggly, her head is rolling to one side and she keeps lifting and dropping her arms saying "they are floopy".
Yes "floopy".
It also made her just a bit more talkative than usual.
(I know, how can you tell?)
But children read this, so you'll just have to use your imagination about what she said and more interestingly, how she said it.
Apparently there is some sort of Hungarian truck driver gene hiding inside her.

It seems I am also fond of using words ending in-oopy AND apparently proper pronunciation has proved to be quite a challenge.

"Frrr-app...frrr-ape...frrr-apy...fra-pay...did you know there were SO MANY ways to say frappe?"

What? We were picking up some supper for our daughter. I was hungry. Still. My husband wouldn't buy me one.

"You're gonna puke."

We dropped her supper off and...again, I'm being told...that I was very...um...animated in my greeting.

"Helllllllllloooooooooo!"

Also, REAL LOUD, when leaving.

"BUT, I DON'T WANNA GO TO THE BASEMENT!"

[eyes go wide]

Did I mention, the radiology department is in the "hospital's" basement and perhaps I should have clarified that fact to the rest of the onlookers and passersby, as well?

I'm happy to report that I did not puke...or cry...or faint...but, I did keep insisting that someone promised me there would be cake...after the test.

"Nooooooo, the radiologist told you it would be a piece of cake."

Same thing. Oh, but I do recall the woman at the front desk laughing at something, really hard, and I may or may not have snorted...a few times...hey, you think maybe she was laughing at me?

"The technicians got to see you FULL ON loopy...no fair!"

I was getting really tired by the end of the night and my daughter must have thought the pill was wearing off.

Until...she asked we stop at the ladies room, before leaving for home...aaaaand, I started knocking on the ladies room door a'la Sheldon of Bing Bang Theory.

"[knock-knock] Holly? [knock-knock] Holly? [knock-knock-] Holly?"

Aaaaand, someone ELSE comes out.

"You're not Holly!"

Meh, some folks. No sense of humor.

"Heyyyyyyyyyyy, look at me!"

The tile floor, however, was perfect for hopscotch...until, I had to go pee...thank goodness we were REAL close to a bathroom, right?

The rest? Still sort of fuzzy. Also, I just got up and, well, what day is it again?

"Yes, the whole hospital heard you knocking, Ma!"

My oldest daughter is home from school, helping me out with some stuff here at home (the #1 why I love having another driver in the house, btw!) and was kind enough to fill me in on the rest of last night's...um...festivities.

"Oh, and the thing about riding the vagina bus?"

[eyes go wide]

"What was THAT about?"

I really wish I knew (sort of) then again, she could always ask her dad and then...you know...tell me...after a nap and when the two youngest kids aren't around, of course!

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