The Magic Pill

I went to San Diego this weekend to visit my good friend Yasmin for Labor Day. She hosted a potluck and I'm pretty sure I ate my own weight in delicious food stuffs - brisket, potato salad, fruit salad, guacamole, chocolate cake and cookies - all homemade and delicious. Except the cookies. Homemade, I mean… not delicious. Er, the cookies were not homemade, but they were definitely delicious. Do you see what I'm saying?

I felt bad because our consumption orgy was a painful event for Yasmin, as she had her wisdom teeth removed one week prior. Obviously it was a topic of much conversation and all the talk of surgery and anesthesia and painkillers and delirium reminded me of my own wisdom teeth removal.

I only had three wisdom teeth, which made me feel ultra-stupid at the time, but then I found out some people only have one. Losers! My dad on the other hand had four plus a fifth one that grew in after the first four were removed. Anyway, when I was at the pre-op appointment the doctor could barely finish asking if I wanted local or general anesthesia before I blurted out that I wanted "to be totally knocked out."

"I don't want to feel anything, I don't want to see anything, I don't want to remember anything. Knock me out." I instructed.

I seriously would have rather died from an anesthesia overdose than been awake to witness the crunch of bone as my teeth were ripped from my blood-soaked face. So he gave me a pill and instructed me to take it an hour before the surgery. Simple enough.

Surgery day rolled around and an hour before the appointment I took the little pill. My mom drove me to the doctor's office and while in the waiting room I started feeling a little strange. I suddenly grabbed my mom's shoulder and mumbled, "Mom, that wall just turned into a treehouse." On the other side of the room a pillar I was staring at had morphed into a tree trunk with a treehouse at the top and the entire waiting room turned into a forest. It hit me like a sack of bricks; I was high as a kite and loving every minute.

The entire series of events is slightly foggy, but this how I remember it:

1. Take magic pill
2. Ride to doctor's office in car, a normal unsuspecting citizen
3. Develop superpowers and turn waiting room into a forest of joy with my mind
4. Teleport to operating chair, look down and see some bitch jab a needle into my arm
5. Wake up on couch at home the following day; superpowers are gone

Soon after I regained consciousness I learned there is a Texas state law requiring outpatients from a surgery like this to leave the facility of their own volition. This of course brings up a lot of valid questions:

• How did I "walk" to the car afterward?
• Did anyone watching think I was being kidnapped?
• If so, why did they not call the police?
• Do people call the police anymore?
• How can 9-1-1 ever be busy?
• Why do cell phones always have no bars at critical points in movies?
• When is the new iPhone coming out?

The point is I made it home somehow, looked like a chipmunk and got to drink Ensure for a week. Haha, lol, lmfao, rotflmao… sometimes I don't catch my little mistakes until after I've typed them.

Had to. I had to drink Ensure for a week.

The one thing I now fear most about getting old? Drinking Ensure to survive. Remember that episode of "Fear Factor" where the guy has to eat a Bull's testicle and ends up vomiting? Of course you do. Well that is my newfound reaction to Ensure. Hopefully I will have my teeth forever and jaw muscles of a god and never need to drink my food. Or maybe I'll just take a magic pill before every meal and think I'm drinking a can of cookie dough.