'Night, 'Night, SuperK

A few years ago I had a routine medical procedure that required a general anesthetic. To complete the work, my doctor had to take a long metal probe and . . . well, I can't imagine that anyone is interested in the details. Trust me, the prescribed anesthetic was definitely required. I have an incredible tolerance for pain but would rather die of whatever disease this procedure was trying to detect than be awake during said procedure.

Yesterday I took SuperK to the hospital to have the same test done. Both of us are amped up pretty good as a general rule. We're both highly competitive, highly energized, Type A personalities, which makes for some interesting marital dynamics from time to time. I might have mentioned to her on the way to the hospital just how pleasant a little spritz of Demerol can be. I also think it's interesting that the spelling of "marital" and "martial" is very similar. Just move a couple of letters and voila!

Afterwards, I poured her into the car and listened to her repeat the same things over and over for the next 15 minutes. She said: "Wow. This is a great drug."


"Yeah, tell me about it, " I said.

"I am totally, completely relaxed," she continued.


"Yeah, I told you about this on the way down here, right?" I replied, a little piqued that I didn't get a shot of Demerol so I could tolerate the boredom of a hospital waiting room. "Can we talk about something else?"

"OK, calm down," she giggled. "Why are you in such a bad mood?"

"Because you got a shot of Demerol and I didn't," I pointed out.

She sat out in the backyard and knitted and read for the rest of the afternoon. I remember hanging out in the coffee shop when I had my pop of the Big D. Just sat there and watched the world go by. And this from a dude who is burning energy like a nuclear reactor most of the time. It took the sense of urgency away, the feeling that I wasn't Getting Something Done. For the non-alcoholic/drug addict, it's a big waste of time, sitting there with a stupid grin on your face. For the lover of opiates, it's the whole point of things.

I ran into a friend that night at a meeting who has 40 plus years of sobriety. She inquired about SuperK.


"Oh, yeah, that's a good drug," she laughed.

We talked -- not seriously -- about what a wonderful world it would be if I could get up in the morning and inject a syringe full of Demerol. Maybe half a syringe if the day got tough. And could it hurt to have one more shot to help me get to sleep? I'd be selling my china to buy pounds of the stuff in a week.


"How's my little drug addict?" I asked SuperK this morning.

She looked up. "I hadn't really thought about it," she said.

What a freak. We did talk about how this might increase our empathy and understanding when we run into heroin addicts at our respective institution meetings. We could see how one could quickly get carried away. Then, top it off with a really horrible and long withdrawal.