The other day I ferried a friend of mine from the hospital to her home after she underwent minor surgery. The nurse - who meant well - was making me a little stabby. When the friend was hanging out in the recovery room, the nurse called and our conversation went something like this:
Nurse: She's done with the procedure.
Me: Ok, great, when can I come pick her up?
Nurse: Well, it's hard to say, but not now.
Me: Um, ok. About when?
Nurse: Hard to know.
Me: [why the heck am I having this conversation?!] Ok, well, I'll come and park and wait in the waiting room.
Nurse: Oh, yeah I don't think that would be a good idea. You'd have to park.
Anyway, boring story short, my friend was fine, and on the drive home, I asked her what recovery drugs they put her on. Percocet, evidently. Which, of all the pharmaceuticals, is the one drug that makes me hyper. It's an opiate, which is SUPPOSED to knock you out.
Years ago, I had four wisdom teeth removed, and the surgeon put me on Percocet. My head swelled up to the size of a basketball and for weeks I resembled a living cabbage patch doll. No, really, a freakish cabbage patch doll. Or that thing behind the radiator in Eraserhead. And along with recovering from surgery, I was also decompressing from a long and intense bout of work. So the logical thing would be for me to be laid-out on my butt, watching day-time teevee or old movies, or snoring away in my bed. But no. My roommate would come home to me vacuuming the apartment for the second time that day, offering her an assortment of 3 dozen cookies I'd baked earlier. So yeah, percocet makes me become compulsively domestic. And hyper.
I take it as further evidence that I have some sort of adult attention deficit disorder.