Going Down Tobacco Road With A One-Way Ticket To Paradise

After so many years together, it's safe to say that my husband and I have few surprises left for each other. That's why it was such a shock to see an entirely new side of the Dickman - one I had not known existed - when he underwent an Upper and Lower GI last year.

Other than giving birth to a kidney stone and, oh yeah, a recent unfortunate case of the 'Kneesles' which developed from a dog bite to the knee ---> (hahaha), Dickie has always been disgustingly healthy.

As you might expect, his experience with hospitals and medical procedures has been very limited. In fact, prior to last year's scope, he had never been under any type of anesthesia or sedation.

Suffice it to say, he really didn't need to take the pre-procedural Go-Lightly, cause he was pretty much scared sh*tless.

And take it from me, fear is not an emotion that the Dickman wears well. Thankfully, he is a man of few fears. In fact, except for roller coasters and PMS'ing women, the only thing the Dickman is afraid of is...needles.

So, what do you get when you combine a deep-seated needle phobia with an overt need to be in control? One Crappy Patient. Which in itself is surprising, as Dickie has always excelled at most every other thing in life. Except chewing gum and threading needles. And maybe a few other little things. (You can email me for a complete list.)

The main problem is - just like every other male of the species - the Dickman wants to be in the driver's seat. Both literally and figuratively. Whether driving an actual car or guiding an actual surgical tube through his own orifice(s). He does not like giving over control.

In spite of it all, he survived the dual-ended scope. In fact, Dickie was awarded an A+ on his butt scope, which to my understanding is the same as saying he is, I mean...has...a perfect butthole. As for the Upper GI, the doc recommended that Dickie undergo a follow-up scope this year. In my opinion, this was prescribed simply because Loopy Dickman is so darn entertaining.

Seriously, there is nothing funnier than the Dickman under the influence of the conscious sedation drug,Versed. In all the many fun-filled, rip-roaring years of my marriage, I have never laughed harder at anything or anyone than Dickie post-scope.

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A few weeks back I was in the process of filling out my WOTY (Wifey Of The Year) entry form when Dickie called to let me know he had scheduled his upper GI scope.

Don't judge me, but I can't tell you how excited I got in anticipation of seeing Dickie under the influence once again. I was especially excited because this time I would be prepared. This time I was taking a camera to record Dick on Drugs for all posterity and his grandbabies to see.

[Is that wrong? Go ahead and nod your head yes, I really don't care. Because in all my excitement of getting to laugh at my sedated husband, I forgot to send in my WOTY entry form.]

I'm not sure why Dickie has such a crazy reaction on Versed. I've had the same drug and do exactly what I'm supposed to: sleep like a baby in between short wake-ups to ask "Is it over? Am I okay?".

But no, not the Dickman. Not only does he refuse to relax and go to sleep, he won't shut up. And his personality changes into a character that can only be described as a combination of his Uncle Harold shooting the bull with a bunch of guys outside the Borger Bulldog bus barn and former president Bill Clinton holding court at a summit meeting.

I submit Exhibit A...the Dickman in the early throes of mindless utopia as he begins to channel President Clinton, his voice in sincere meeting mode:



Throughout the entire debacle, Dickie remained very fixated on his Diet Dr. Pepper. Here he is trying to figure out the existential meaning of a Dr. Pepper gone flat while going down Tobacco Road with a One-Way Ticket to Paradise:



And my very favorite...more Diet DP deliberation mixed in with a little French lesson amid declarations of true love:



Yeah, sure I'm gonna let you drive home. You can't even operate the bendy straw in your drink can.

When the nurse had enough of the Loopy Dickman, she came in and asked who he was going home with. In all his virile glory, Dickie assumed the nurse was hitting on him. (Another weird side effect of the Dickman on Versed...he suddenly becomes irresistible to nurses, but only in his mind. Bless his heart.)

Thankfully, he still liked me best, and not just because I was the one taking him home.

Finally, here he is...happy to be going home with me, a special child of the universe:



I might add that before we left, the doc came in to talk to us and gave me some Good News and some Bad News. The Good News was that Dickie had checked out fine. The Bad News was that he wouldn't have to have another scope for three years.

"What??" I said, "I have to wait three more years to enjoy my husband on Versed again?!" "'Fraid so, Mrs. Haney" the doctor said...then skedaddled away.

Oh well - look at the bright side. With a three-year hiatus, I might actually have a shot at winning Wifey of the Year.