I saw Fluffy Little Bunnies everywhere on Easter this year. And I don’t mean on the shelves at Wal-Mart amongst the chocolate eggs and the Peeps. I saw Fluffy Bunnies at the ER near Stone Mountain, GA where I spent Easter evening trying to pass a beast of a kidney stone. Thanks to two consecutive doses of morphine, I was definitely stoned in Stone Mountain for Easter. Fluffy Bunnies abounded!
In the moment, there is not much funny about having a kidney stone. But, like all of life, after the crisis is over, there is always a retrospective humorous side. I gained this perspective when I read the instruction on the drug information sheet for the medications that the ER doc sent me home with.
My first chuckle came when I read that I’ve been prescribed a drug that is usually given to men to treat the signs of an enlarged prostate. I am not sure what I should be aware of for side effects, but I am watching carefully for chin whiskers and a stache. That would add insult to injury. I am supposed to tell my doctor if I am pregnant. The medical community should stop asking me that. I don’t get carded in pubs anymore, so stop asking an old lady if she is pregnant.
Also, no one told me that this medication would kick in suddenly on the second day while I was in the car in rural Georgia with no bathroom in sight. Oh dear Lord have mercy! First, I cannot pee and now I cannot stop. What kind of cosmic joke is this? The instructions suggest that I talk with my doctor before I drink alcohol. What should I do? Ask him out for drinks? Because, I definitely need a drink.
And then the informational flyer lists other side effects. First on the list is “a change in sex ability.” Given the rest of the list, which includes cough, loose stools, runny nose, mood changes, gas, vomiting and headache, who would want to have sex with me anyway?
I am further cautioned not to share my drugs with anyone. Who would want this drug which causes you to constantly plot a course between bathrooms and become a public nuisance when there is a line for the lady’s room.
You might ask where Arnie was in all of this fun and games. When it became clear that we would be at the ER for an extended period of time (all night and into the morning), I sent him home for a few essentials. In the chaos of leaving the house in excruciating pain, Arnie had grabbed whatever garb was within near reach for me to wear and he decked me out in a pair of his own men’s dress socks along with a fetching inside-out zebra print pair of skimpy panties belonging to my daughter in law. He pulled up the beaten-up jeans I had gardened in all day and topped it off with a striped nightgown, no bra, no shoes. Out the door we flew, with me doing a striking imitation of a Ringling Brothers circus clown in that ensemble. It was Homeless Chic. I was in danger of being mistaken for an escaped mental patient, especially after the second dose of morphine kicked in leaving me in a sleepy slump in the wheelchair.
These are the times that might make a weaker man question his choice of brides, but Arnie took vows and so, off he went to get some supplies to clean up my act. Time marched on and, after several hours, I began to be a bit concerned that he had been gone quite awhile. As our only cell phone began to lose the last little bit of charge, I fantasized about him wandering the streets of downtown Atlanta in the wee hours trying to locate the place he left me behind. Knowing he would never ask directions and was relying upon our unreliable GPS in the truck, I prepared to send out a Silver Alert on my husband. About this time, he walked in the door sheepishly denying that he had been lost. He was instantly forgiven because he brought me coffee and breakfast. I might add that this somewhat congealed breakfast had clearly been cooked several hours prior, but who’s looking for clues or hard evidence of his being lost.? Not me, Lost Boy. I am just glad you made it back.
Here’s to Fluffy Bunnies and Lost Boys! We leave GA on Friday to go make some more tender memories!
8 thoughts on “Stoned in Stone Mountain for Easter”
OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wanted to bother you. Hope your “troubles” pass soon. Arnie should have taken a pic to add to the description. LOL
On Wed, Apr 19, 2017 at 12:55 PM, Chance Encounters wrote:
> Barbara Jaquith posted: ” I saw Fluffy Little Bunnies everywhere on Easter > this year. And I don’t mean on the shelves at Wal-Mart amongst the > chocolate eggs and the Peeps. I saw Fluffy Bunnies at the ER near Stone > Mountain, GA where I spent Easter evening trying to pass a beast ” >
I am grateful there are no commemorative photos. Hope you are getting settled in your new place, Chris!
Could you please resend in a different format. I am unable to open, see message below.
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I don’t know how to do that, but you can go to my FB page and it should open by clicking the link. Not sure it will open on an iphone?
Your sense of humor never fails . Hilarious! Hope the stone passed and you are on the mend with your enlarged prostrate!
No luck yet,but hitting the road tomorrow with a cup of coffee and a prayer that this too shall pass. Hope you are doing well. Heard Everett is no more…..
Carl and I laughed so hard as I read him your post. We are not laughing at all the pain, but at how you describe your experience. And I agree with the pregnancy question. When my doctor asks me if I am pregnant or planning to get pregnant, I look at him, “seriously.” Then I tell him “yes, I am trying to get pregnant.” He goes back and looks at my medical chart. So when you hear of a woman, age 67, in Waco, Texas having a baby, it’s me!!!!! LOL I love your posts.
If you come up in the family way, they will just need to change the name of that town from Waco to Wacko! Glad you enjoy our perpective……..at the end of the day, we all need perspective, don’t we?