NORTHWEST ARKANSAS — I should have known before I went into surgery not to trust my anesthesiologist. He was full of jokes while prepping me for my turn in the operating room.
He did keep me under and alive during the surgery, so I can’t say too much bad about him. He’s good at what he does, but I think he took advantage of me while I was under the influence of what he called “goofy juice.”
I don’t know if anesthesia works as truth serum, but it is sure difficult to speak with a clear head.When the anesthesiologist administered the drugs, things began to spin and I can’t even remember making it all the way into the operating room. When the “goofy juice” was wearing off, I remember trying so hard to stay awake and think sanely but not doing too well at it.
Mrs. Griz has cell phone pictures of me with my pupils constricted and with very bewildered looks on my face. Seeing them, I can’t say there was any semblance of sanity in me when “stoned.”
Mrs. Griz said shequizzed me with an Alzheimer test while I was still loopy. She asked me to count down from 100 in steps of seven and was surprised when I could do it. She said she and my daughters tried it earlier while in the waiting room and had trouble.
I don’t think I would ever want to risk driving under the influence of anything. Even if I could “wow” the police by counting backwards and reciting the alphabet at unusual starting points, my spaced-out eyes would give me away.
Anyway, though I can’t say with absolute certainty that my anesthesiologist asked me the name of the first girl I ever dated - my memory of that time under the influence is kind of a blur - I think he did. Then, later, he asked Mrs. Griz, “Who is Sheila?”adding that I kept talking about her in the recovery room.
Well, his line sparked the curiosity of Mrs. Griz enough that she later had some questions of me regarding this “Sheila.”
Yes, I did date a girl named Sheila, but only once - I think it was in my senior year of high school in Los Angeles. Sheila - I won’t say her last name in case someone might figure out who the unfortunate girl was - accepted my invitation to accompany me to a football game. In fact, the date was a double date. Another student in the band whose first name was Tim also asked another girl named Sheila to accompany him to the game, so we each took Sheila to the football game.
Perhaps the Sheila I tookwould have been more impressed if I were on the football team instead of a baritone horn player in the pep band. However, even though it may be hard to believe now, I was so skinny in my high school years, a stiff wind might have blown me away. Though I could run, I just wasn’t well suited to playing tackle football.
I don’t know how things turned out between Tim and Sheila, but the Sheila I took out declined my next invitation even though her grandma was fond of me and urged her to reconsider. I suppose she felt a little like she had been out with the “Geek Squad” - and that in a time before we ever dreamed of owning computers.
So that is the extent of my relationship with Sheila. I have no knowledge ofwhat happened to her after she declined a second date with me, and I doubt she has ever thought of me again unless, maybe, to laugh.
Honestly, Mrs. Griz, there are no more Sheilas in my life! I really can’t even think of any others I have ever known. You have nothing to worry about if I ever say the name Sheila again under anesthesia.
And, you certainly can delete those photos and videos you took of me while under the influence of “goofy juice.” I can’t tell you anything more about Sheila even if you do start posting them on the World Wide Web!
Randy Moll is the managing editor of the Westside Eagle Observer. He may be reached by email at rmoll@ nwaonline.com.
Opinion, Pages 6 on 04/04/2012