Originally derived from the Greek word narkō meaning ‘I benumb,’ narcotics is defined a drug that soothes, relieves or lulls. In short, its job is to free me of pain and ease me into a profound sleep. There’s no mention in the definition about the benefit of all-over itchiness it provides. That’s just a little lagniappe.
Anyway, I’m still trucking along, taking my meds but trying to space out the gap between the pills a little more when I can. And, since I’m drifting in and out of lucidity, I’ve had a few amusing moments I’ll share for your enjoyment. Realize that when you laugh here, you’re actually laughing AT me.
(1) I was talking to my dad about my friend, Ashley, and mentioned something about when the two of us were pregnant last year. Of course, the word I was looking for was president … of the parents’ organization. Which would explain my dad’s very confused expression.
(2) When Dave brought my children to the ICU to see me that first night, I apparently was pretty concerned about a yellow folder I was convinced my daughter was hiding behind her back. He gently explained my mistake to me and decided to wrap up the visit before I claimed to see purple monkeys flying around the room.
(3) When drifting in and out of sleep with my mother at my bedside, I was suddenly very apologetic about spilling the syrup. And, no, there wasn’t any syrup or food to be found anywhere. We were just sitting quietly together resting and reading.
(4) On my first night back home, while still reeling from the potent stuff they administered intravenously, I took one of my prescription pills …. which together must have amounted to just a little bit too much. Fortunately, I was coherent enough to recognize that what I saw on my ceiling wasn’t real. Fan blades do not normally sway like sea anemone tentacles and recessed light fixtures do not normally change shape.
(5) My mom came to check on me in my bed not long after we first got home to find me resting peacefully with my eyes closed and petting what I thought was my sweet little cat who I had tucked under my arm. Yeah, it wasn’t the cat.
I’m thinking Milo’s going to be pretty upset when he learns I mistook this thing for him.
By the way … Thanks, Vanessa, for my awesome purple pillow pet. It’s become my ‘clutch-to-my-chest-when-I-have-to-cough’ pillow which the doctor and nurses recommended. I love him. I’m just not so sure Milo does.
Surely Milo will cut you some slack during this difficult period?
Oh wait, no, he’s a cat.
Glad you’re feeling well enough to blog, hope your recovery is fast and smooth!