Hump Day has finally arrived-aka my THURSDAY!
So last night my brain was inundated with some things to discuss in my blog
The first was I was reflecting on when I have had surgery and they have given me "the DRUGS" to “go under”
I’d like to explore that idea-I mean what REALLY happens when these drugs go into your body. Are you just forced into a nice sound slumber, are you put in a really far unconscious state-I am always amazed by how quickly it works from the time you are laying on the cold table freezing until the doctor saying “count to ten” and you are gone.
I mean is this the same phenomenon that happens or used to happen with Tylenol PM before I became immune, is it the same effect as Ambien, which has some WEIRD side effects such as the lack of memory of anything that happened after you take it, or so I am told. My sister has promised me I can try it next trip up!
But I wondered as I explored this more-is this what happens when you die. I hate to think about death or deal with it in my fairytale world of a brain BUT I wonder do you just slip into a state of subconscious or unconscious?
I have been “put under” (and wait isn’t it called that or is that just what they call putting animals to sleep) anyhow-I have had 2 major surgeries that required me to NOT be awake and assisting the doctor and each time I just remember the before and then the AFTER-I don’t remember getting dragged off the table and put back into a softer bed, I don’t remember my body being flopped (because I am sure they did not gingerly place me on the other bed-and I have been sore after to prove that theory)-but how could they lift me, move me, and possibly drop me, and I don’t remember ANY of it!!
Just a thought!
From that pondering my brain then went back to a time when I was little and I would always pretend to be sleep on the way back from a trip or just coming home late at night so my Dad would always pick me up and carry me in the house.
Now if you have met my MOTHER –you know it didn’t fly with her and she’d assume leave me in the car or wake me up
But my Dad-nope he’d scoop me up and carry me in the house like a princess
Which I think has lead me to my love for being carried-it’s a “home” thing-it’s an old memory that I was always fond of and I think that is why I ask anyone to pick me up or carry me
SO the second thought was random but the first one had me thinking
