My brother, Don, had to have some medical tests run yesterday, during which time he was going to be anesthetized, so he needed me to be with him in order to take him home afterwards. (Everything was negative, which is good, and he’s going to be fine.) I adore both of my brothers and think they are hilarious, but I wasn’t prepared for just how hilarious Don could be while coming out of the anesthesia.
When I walked into his curtained-off section of recovery, he was lying on his side, and immediately arose when he saw me and asked, “Are we in heaven? Where are my glasses? If I need glasses, then this must not be heaven!!! ERGO, this MUST be HELL!!!” He was all crazy. I could hardly keep from falling on the floor from laughing. The nurse was laughing, too, and told me she hears some amazing things come out of the mouths of the most prim and proper people after they’ve been sedated. “It sure makes this job a lot of fun sometimes,” she said. She was a doll and took very good care of Don, which wasn’t easy.
For his next act, Don removed the heart monitor attached to his finger and started making it talk. I kept trying to tell him to put it back on his finger, but he was too busy with his One-Man Show, and so the monitor started beeping, which brought in the nurse, who gently asked him to keep the thing on his finger. As soon as she left, he started up again. Out of what little respect remains for my brother, I won’t tell you what the little finger-clip-turned-puppet said, but it was quite disgusting and I was crying from laughter.
When he seemed a little more coherent, the nurse asked him if he’d like some water. He looked at her and said, “you know what would really hit the spot? Some CREEEEAM SODA!!!” I don’t think he’s ever drunk cream soda in his life. When he realized he wasn’t getting any cream soda, he said he’d take some coffee. He got his coffee and marveled about how absolutely delicious it was and asked the nurse what brand it was. He had us in stitches, that boy.
I decided he was okay, so I went across the hall to the bathroom and when I returned, he was sitting up, slumped over and asleep, and his coffee was dripping out of the cup all over his blanket. I caught it in time to prevent it burning him, and when he felt me removing the cup from his hands he awoke and looked at the blanket and started laughing. “It’s not the drugs, Ness. I do this at home, too!!!” he said, “I’m-ready-to-go-home-want-to-go-get-some-lunch-I-have-a-bunch-of-movies-we-can-watch-what-time-is-it-that-was-a-piece-of-cake-lets-get-some-cream-soda-on-the-way-home!”
After sixty minutes of this, he was declared ready to go home and started putting on his shoes, all the while singing “It’s hard out here for a pimp!” Terrence Howard has nothing on my brother.
We made it back to his house and he was puttering around, making coffee, telling me he felt pretty normal, and he stopped and said, “Oh, I forgot! I had this great line I’ve always wanted to use when coming out of anesthesia and I forgot! It’s: ‘Is this heaven? If it is, then why do I need glasses?’ ” “You did say that, Bro,” I said. “Ooh, what else did I say?” he asked, rather sheepishly. “Oh, nothing,” I replied. I’m saving it for the family picnic.