Why I Don't Do Drugs

Monday morning at 6:10 Cody and I loaded into my Escapé (that's French for Escape) and headed to the hospital where I was having a procedure done.
Nothing to worry about. 
Seriously. 
I'm healthy as an ox but have a throat like a chicken. It's genetic. 

By 6:50 AM they had me on a gurney and were giving me oxygen. Then, they told me they were giving me something that may make me sleepy. 

Understatement of the year. 

The following is just a brief glimpse of the hours that followed, as told by Cody Sankey, my patient, kind fiancé. I've cut his stories down to about half, for the sake of my reputation. Of all that is to follow, there is only one moment that I remember: the elves. 

When they wheeled me back to my room the first thing I announced to the floor was that I wanted an elephant ear. No, I needed an elephant ear. Fried, sugary, fair food goodness: not too far off from reality. Cody lied to me and told me we would get one when we left. I believed him. Thirty seconds later I forgot my own request. 

"You know what I gotta do when I get home?" I asked Cody, serious Lindsay snapping right to it. 
"What Linds?"
"I gotta cut Dixie's tail off. Right off!" I announced, finger scissors cutting across the air. 
"Linds, I don't think you need to cut Dixie's tail off. She's too old for that now."
"Well, Cody," I talked to him as though I was a real veterinarian, putting my hands in front of me to convince. "That's an awfully big decision for such a little dog to make, so I'm making it for her." 

Dixie, I'm sorry. But, I really do get annoyed when your tail knocks over my wine on the coffee table. 

Then, according to Cody, the tears came. And note, there are few things I dislike more than dramatic girls.
Big, loud, sobbing tears - out of no where. 
"Elves! There are elves in my watch!" I screamed. And I sincerely remember this part; I remember looking down at my wrist where my 10th birthday present once rested - a Mickey Mouse watch with a red leather band. But in the face, where Mickey once was, were 1,000 tiny little elves and they were screaming to get out! 

They scared me...and I scared everyone one around.
Cody jumped up to console me and the nurses rushed to my side; I begged them to get the elves out of my watch. They grabbed both wrists and proved to me that I didn't even have on a watch. But I could see it - and the elves! - plain as day. 

Some time passed and a drive home from town took place as well as a McDonald's run. Those are details for neither here or there...
Wedding is still on even after another meltdown because McDonald's didn't have pineapple mango smoothies. Thank goodness that Cody has the patience of his father. 

Thirty minutes later and Cody was cleaning the McSmoothie off of my chin and escorting me out of the Escapé and into my house. Two eager, happy pups met us at the door. Rather than greeting them as cheerfully as they greeted me, like a hawk I reached down and try to yank poor Dixie's  tail right out of her body. 
I don't know why; I'm just glad she's even my friend today.
That's the beauty of a pup like Dixie; no matter the day, she is always going to love me more than I love myself. 

And if it's the hours when her owner is all hopped up on "Truth Serum" - as the doctor labeled it, due to it's ability to make all patients speak only the truth - those are some miserable hours for a little black mutt. 

Cody got me back to my bedroom and took off my shoes. For another forty-five minutes he consoled me and answered questions he didn't know the answers to. He watched me to make sure I didn't choke on my tongue or a coat hanger. 

Birdie and Dixie came back to visit. 

"We gotta get Birdie's tail off, too!" I announced. 
"No, Linds, Bird's tail came off when she was just a baby. All she as left is a nub."
Apparently I got more serious than anyone should ever get when discussing this. I cut Cody a look, "Well you get me a pair of channel locks and I bet I can get that nub off! Just get me the channel locks!" I demanded.

+ 1 for creative use of tools 
- 100 for even thinking in a drugged state that poor old Bird's tail needed removed, too. 

In the best interest of all parties involved, Cody escorted both pups to the front of the house and turned on ESPN so they could chase baseballs across the screen. Not always the best fun, but far better than a home tail removal demonstration. 

Cody came back to my room to find me on my phone.  I had called brother Luke (or he called me? Details quite fuzzy) and invited him down for Dixie's tail cutting, as though I was inviting him to a pitch-in or something. Immediately my phone was confiscated and not released again until around 8:00 PM Monday night. 

Over the span of time I removed classic livestock prints off of my walls because I "hated the Grand Canyon" (never been there, would love to go) and even let Cody know I'd meet him in Alaska for our honeymoon because I was going to ride a donkey up there. 

Even the Truth Serum can't cover up the fact that I love the scenic route to anywhere. 

"Donkey rides aren't so bad," I told Cody. "Mary and Joseph rode a donkey places."
"Yeah Linds, they did," Cody responded, exhausted after dealing with a 3-year-old since 7:00 AM. 
"But now people haul donkeys in trailers. Wait. Maybe they hauled baby Jesus in a stock trailer, Cody?"
"I don't know, Linds, I think you should probably call it quits for a while, all this thinking," he tried to convince/beg me. 
I paid no mind. 
"It would be like showing up to a stock show with baby Jesus in your trailer!!" I screamed, elated at the thought! I sat right up in bed. 
"Do you know Jesus?" I asked Cody, dead serious.
"Yeah, I know Jesus," he replied.
"He's a pretty goooooooooood guy," a drew it out as I laid back down in bed. 

Cody took my glasses off of me and pulled the sheet up. He realized little Dixie had snuck back into the room and had crawled under my bed; the thumping of her tail gave her away. So Cody got down on his hands and knees and begged Dixie to come out; he did not trust her sleeping alone with me in the same room - even in broad daylight. 

Dixie reveled herself then pranced down the hallway. The noise awoke the sleeping, high-as-a-kite bear. 

"What are you doing in here?!" I yelled at Cody. 
"Just making sure you're OK, Linds" he calmly replied. 
"Well," I said, full of ungratefulness and very as-a-matter-of-factly, "I think you're creepy watching me like this!"
Cody was so, so patient. "I just want to make sure you're OK, Linds, just go to sleep."
Since the age of two, telling me to sleep rarely works; I popped up out of bed:
"Whatdya think I'm gonna do, blow this place up?!!?" I threw my arms to the heavens. 

WHAM!!

Cody recalls that my head hit the pillow like a ton of bricks. Eyes shut. Mouth open. Snoring within seconds. 

He checked on me every thirty minutes but said I didn't move for three hours. 
Almost an entire day of my life completely unaccounted for in my memory due to a few CCs of Truth Serum. 

It made me realize why in 28 years I've never touched a drug, or was never invited to the parties where that kind of stuff took place. Maybe everyone knew I'd be the idiot talking about elves in my watch and hauling baby Jesus around in a stock trailer. 

Long story longer, it's like a really good thing for me that Cody is locked into this "forever" deal. At least he knows what he's getting into? It was like a small marriage counseling session wrapped up......into 12 hours.

Lesson for the day: 

Let this be a reminder.