So yeah, I kinda slacked majorly with my gratitude journal. I’m sorry.
I’ve missed my mother quite a bit lately, so I thought I’d share another Christmas memory. This one is from 2007. Well, this wasn’t exactly on Christmas, but it was pretty close. Enjoy the story:
It was two weeks before Christmas and I got the worst headache of all time. It would not stop. No amount of Tylenol, Advil, Aleve was stopping that sucker. My head felt as if it were about to give birth to angry ninjas, doused in flames and metal spikes, trying to roundhouse kick their way out of my head. Oddly enough I continued to work , attended a work party that Saturday and a date on Sunday despite the blinding pain.
Finally I hit that wall where I just could not take being in pain any longer. Sobbing, I knocked at my sisters bedroom door. This is how the conversation went, although it might not be completely accurate as I was in excruciating pain:
Me: My head is about to give birth. I need a ride to the emergency room.
Sister: What? Why are you crying? And …you’re not pregnant. You also can’t give birth from your head.
Me: Seriously…my head is about to explode. I need you to drive me to the ER.
Sister: Did you take some Excedrin? That helps with headaches.
Me: OMG seriously, what do you not get?! I don’t have time to debate; my head is about to give birth to a horde of angry unicorn. (Crying louder) ER…PLEASE…NOW!!!
Sister: Um, okay, calm down. I’ll get my keys.
My sister takes me, sobbing uncontrollably from the pain, to the ER at 11:00 at night. I get there, get bumped to urgent care because apparently giving birth to a hoard of unicorns from your head is completely normal and not an emergency. Once I saw the doctor, I find out I have a sinus infection. I’m given a shot in the butt with a medication that must be the Sweet Nectar of God because the pain calmed down. After that, he wrote me a script for antibiotics and Vicodan. My sister takes me to the pharmacy; I pick up the script and head home. When we get home, we let my mom know what happened and I reassured her that I can work the next day despite being on the medication. She looked at me skeptically and sent me off to bed.
Around 3am, Nectar of God starts to wear off, so I pop two Vicodan. Thirty minutes later, I’m out. The next thing I remember is my mom shaking me awake and telling me that it is time for work. I tried to sit up and fell out of my overly large captain’s bed onto the floor. As I laid on the floor, laughing hysterically and attempting to stand up, my mom decided that I am too gone to go to work. She called my boss for me, lets her know that I have a serious sinus infection and I will be out for a few days. I took another dose of Vicodan and planned on spending the day in bed.
My mom decided that staying up in my room where she could not monitor me was not a good idea.I was already prone to clumsiness and being on a narcotic was sure to make things worse. Not to mention, I had a death trap for a bed that required stairs so I could get out of bed.
I don’t remember much, but somehow I got downstairs and on the couch. My mother turned on Spongebob Squarepants, told me to stay on the couch and made me promise that I would yell if I needed to get up. I promised that I would not move, and attempted to watch Spongebob in my drugged out state. My mom choose to stay in the kitchen so she could keep an eye on me and get some papers graded. She figured that the Vicodan would keep me pretty sedated and quiet.
Boy, was she wrong.
Somehow I end up on the floor laughing hysterically again. My mom stood over me, exasperated as she tried to put me back on the couch and stop me from laughing loudly like a maniac. I remember pointing and laughing at the TV, and repeating over and over that “Spongebob is best thing ever written” .
My mom decided that Spongebob was too much for me and turned it off. I started to cry. I think I may have cried myself to sleep.
Later, I wake up and decide that I want to get out of the house. I stumble through the house, calling for my mother.
Me: “Mom, I feel better. I’m going for a walk”
Mom: No Alexis. Didn’t I tell you to not get up? Go back on the couch.
Me: But I’m bored. Let’s go walk Roxcii. That way you can watch me and I can get outside.”
Mom: We are not going for a walk. You’re high.”
Me: “Please, I am so bored. I promise I will behave. I just want to go outside. I don’t even feel the Vicodan anymore.”
Mom: (Sighs) “Your boss called and said you left your ID at the bowling alley. We’ll go get it.”
Me: “Yay! Let’s go!”
I have no idea why my mom thought it was a good idea to put me in a car, let alone take me out in public. I suppose she figured that she could monitor my behavior better if I was strapped in a seatbelt and all the child locks were on. At first, her logic worked. For the first 15 minutes of the ride, I was well behaved. I didn’t fight with her over the radio; I just sat quietly, gazing out of the window.
Then a large black man wearing a blue suit and a large white hat pulled up next to us. I perked up in my seat and continued to stare at him. I remember his suit being almost an electric blue, and I was enchanted by it. Then again, it could have been the Vicodan. I reached for my mother and tapped her shoulder.
“Mom…I think he’s a pimp.”
She glances out my window and shakes her head. ” Alexis, don’t stare.”
“But I’m sure he’s a pimp.”
“Alexis, listen to the radio. Pick any station you want.”
I reach for the radio and start flipping through the station. Thinking that my curiosity about the man in the blue suit had disappeared, my mom returned her focus back to the road. Unfortunately, she was very wrong.
My mom made the grave mistake of leaving the windows unlocked. As I flipped through the stations, I could not distract myself from the man in the blue suit. Unsatisfied by my mothers answers, I decided to ask the man myself. I rolled down my window, stuck my head out and shouted:
“Excuse me sir? SIR?! ARE YOU A PIMP?!”
My mother was horrifed. She yanks me back from the window, shouts her apologies and frantically tried to roll up and lock my window. However, this does not stop me. Once the window is up, I continue to knock on it, trying to get his attention and get my question answered. The man stared at me completely bewildered. My mother started to smack my arm, while cursing the red light that held her captive. When the light turned green, she sped away.
I am shocked that I made it to that bowling alley alive. I think the only thing that kept her from killing me was that I was drugged up and had no filter. She was pretty angry then, but a week later, she found the whole experience to be really funny. I was better in time for Christmas, and my mom had a blast telling everyone about my adventures with Vicodan.