Earlier this week, I went in for a procedure involving the sticking tubes and cameras and various increasingly large objects down my throat in order to stretch out my esophagus. (In one of the collections of letters, by the way, Walker Percy mentions going in for this same procedure, and attributes the condition to drinking too much Early Times during his college days.) Anyway I had this done for the first time about five years ago and asked not to be sedated. After reading the brochure in the waiting room, I hadn’t thought it would be that bad to be awake for the action. And the truth is I didn’t like the idea of “going under” — too much like death, maybe. So I gagged and squirmed as the doc crammed a succession of implements, literally, down my throat. It was unpleasant.
This time, five years later, with the esophagus constricting again, I went back to the same place (a repetition), went through the same process, but embraced the sedation. And, I must say, it was lovely. Not only did I rest in peaceful blankness while being orally probed, but I woke feeling better rested than I have in months, maybe years. I’d had a kink in my neck for at least the past six months, and when I woke from the sedation, there was no sign of it. So I’m a convert. I wish I’d been sedated ages ago, and I hope to be sedated again soon. If you have the opportunity to go under, I highly recommend it.
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go
I wanna be sedated
Nothin’ to do and no where to go-o-oh
I wanna be sedated
Just get me to the airport put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can’t control my fingers
I can’t control my brain
Oh no no no no no
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go….
Just put me in a wheelchair,
get me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can’t control my fingers
I can’t control my brain
Oh no no no no no
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go
I wanna be sedated
Nothin’ to do and no where to go-o-o
I wanna be sedated
Just put me in a wheelchair
get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco
I can’t control my fingers
I can’t control my toes
Oh no no no no no
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go…
Just put me in a wheelchair…
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba
I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba
I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba
I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba
I wanna be sedated
You were asking for this, weren’t you?
My motto is if they offer drugs, take them. If they don’t offer, ask.
Better to be sedated than sorry.
For a while I had to have happy gas to have my teeth cleaned. Hapily I have grown up a bit, and can at least get through taht procedure without drugs, but just about everything else takes chemical help.
Mine, too, Angelmeg. Mine too.
Quin: Thanks for posting the lyrics and the link. Click on the title for another rendition of the classic tune.
The kink in your neck was the result of the nasty habit of popping your joints. Over time you discharged all the available joint gas. It took sedation to replenish the supply.
Now stop it.