Immediately, I began to cry. "Oh no!" she said. "What's the matter? Are you in pain?"
"No, I'm not in pain." I said. "It's just that I came here a fully intact human, and now a part of me is missing."
She told me I was making her sad.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Meteor Outburst
I woke up from surgery to the sound of a nurse saying, "Angie, it's all over. We're done. Everything went great."
Immediately, I began to cry. "Oh no!" she said. "What's the matter? Are you in pain?"
"No, I'm not in pain." I said. "It's just that I came here a fully intact human, and now a part of me is missing."
She told me I was making her sad.
The drugs were weird. I was completely coherent for much of the day, and even had a conversation about biodiversity with a visitor. But then many hours after my last dose of what I think was codeine, everything got funky. If I closed my eyes, the last thing I had seen would become a melted Dali painting. Or, I'd see streaks of light that were spaced along a grid, as if all of my rods and cones were lit up. And then, I saw the Perseid meteors through the ceiling.
Immediately, I began to cry. "Oh no!" she said. "What's the matter? Are you in pain?"
"No, I'm not in pain." I said. "It's just that I came here a fully intact human, and now a part of me is missing."
She told me I was making her sad.
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Hey Angie, this is Larry the distant relation in AZ. I had a similar experience a couple of weeks ago. I had dental surgery for an implant and I was coherent to everyone who saw me but for the life of me I can't remember a thing that went on the rest of the day.
ReplyDeleteOh good! I'm glad your not one of the creepy Larrys.
DeleteI think some of those drugs are meant to impact your memory but the timing is a little odd.