I didn’t want my mouth to say that.

The anesthesiologist was putting the Michael Jackson drug in my IV when my doctor gave the surprise instruction.  No one likes those in this setting.  He wanted me to roll onto my side.  I prefer to be in a seated position when unconscious around strangers because my butt feels safer, but I did what he said because I think he’s generally a nice guy.

The plastic ring was inserted into my mouth and strapped around my head to hold it in place.  This made me unhappy.  It also made it physically impossible to report said unhappiness.  They must have known I was about to yank it off and call everyone’s integrity into question because that’s the last thing I remember.

I woke up in the  recovery room groggy but relieved they knocked me out before I made a scene.  Sometimes I do that.  In my defense, it typically only happens when I fear bank accounts or orifices could be violated without my knowledge.  Neither was really a possibility here, so it’s good that I was quiet and respectful, also known as asleep.

When I was fully alert again the doctor came in to report the test came back fine – hooray!

I got the nurse’s report when my dude was escorting me out of the building:  the instant I came back to life and had nothing blocking my speech, I hardly drew a breath before my big anesthesia-induced unfiltered mouth launched into a southern tizzy about how I didn’t appreciate them putting that thing in my mouth and knocking me out – especially being a girl – that’s precisely when you want to be awake – particularly with the shape and size of said plastic thingy and bla bla bla rant rant rant. And then I nodded out again.

Apparently waking up in the recovery room was the second time I woke up.

I sure can’t wait to see all of them again tomorrow morning at 11:30am for the second procedure.

Same doctor, same crew, same shame.

I’m psyched.


  1. Good luck! Give ’em all what for, you’re paying for it so it’s your right.

  2. I dont ever go to the doctor. I just hate them all so much

  3. This belongs in Que En El Mundo! You OK?

  4. Awww. Good luck. Rant away… It makes it interesting.

  5. I’m sure they are all looking forward to tomorrow as much as you are. Good luck!

  6. What is it about doctors that makes me so bitter? They don’t give you the drugs you want. Only the ones you need.

  7. Miss Molly says:

    One of the few times I had surgery, I asked the anesthesiologist to tell me where he got his med degree. “Are you checking my credentials?” “Damn right, I am!” He laughed, but I was serious…

    Good luck with any and all procedures…Glad it will be over soon…

  8. Give ’em hell! Oh to be a fly on the wall the first time you woke up! Ask them to videotape you next time – you’ll be an overnight sensation on YouTube. Hope the second procedure went well!

  9. Funny! I just told one of my friends yesterday that I think I have a problem keeping my drunk hooer mouth and legs closed, and imagine the same might happen under anesthesia!! hahaha

  10. My mom embarrassed all of us a few years ago, in recovery, when she shouted like a crazed lunatic at everyone for removing her dentures, which seems to be standard procedure. The problem was that she tried to formulate normal speech patterns without dentures and anaesthesia induced rage.

  11. ardenrr says:

    Have you ever linked up with Yeah Write because this would be perfect! Hahaha


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