I punctually find myself in this dilemma of staring at my pearls
and feeling oh so possessive about them. These little fellas, I tell you,
are the most freaking amazing things I could have ever gotten access to. Had it
not been for that non-ending day, I would not have ever known that my little
friends existed and that they were oh so kind and gentle.
As far as my memory rolls back, I can still see those blond
stares around me. Sure, they are soft but they are uselessly empathetic. Empathetic to the point of being frozen by my
groans. They are just staring and staring, two of them even touching me thinking
they are comforting me. Damn them! Damn all the painkillers I’ve taken! So many
yet so unmoving.
My take – “When you are in pain, I mean extreme physical (or
for that matter mental) pain, no freaking touch or whatever sane therapy can do a bit in relieving you. Period.”
It was in that moment that all those angels and faeries above
sent this short, sharp eyed, male nurse to my bed with a
Morphine injection in hand. And what followed next was absolute bliss.
I literally remember to have not remembered even an ounce of
my physical hell anymore in the hours that followed. Let alone the mental high
it kicked me with. All at once, I was with my hubby, on the shores of the
hospital, walking, hand in hand, extrapolating our future and happiness around
our just gifted parenthood. That walk, that chilly Melbourne evening, has ever
since then remained in my memory like some ride to heaven.
(Un)Luckily though, along with my discharge from the hospital,
it was time to say bye-bye to those incredible injectibles. But what I
did get as an acceptable well wishing token from the hospital was a long enough
prescription of Endone. Now this, as I’ve well discovered by now, is something
which is ‘little’ less invading, but far handier and hence addictive, I guess.
All those friendship quotes suddenly make so much sense now. They say it for a reason that "A friend in need is a friend indeed". And
what better than these little stones which captivate all three dimensions
of my being in just no time – my body, my mind and hence my spirit. A single
doze hits me like a million of happy hormones, all in one go.
It’s been some long time since I realized that I
am left with just 4 of my buddies now. So far, since then, my need to preserve
them has won over my need to consume them. I am finding this pretty interesting.
My clash with my addiction, for my addiction. After all, the awareness that you
can go unaware at will is something. Isn’t it? And it’s worth the entire contest.
June 2014 marks the finale of my chase. That’s when these tiny
stones expire. Till then it's is all cheers no matter what! ;-)
Disclaimer
- I am not promoting
usage of drugs here. Consumption or addiction to these is dangerous to health.
It’s just a narration of how one of my medical conditions led to my
introduction to these and my getting trapped into the phenomenon of craving since then. It would definitely have been
a damaging story had I had an unlimited access to these.
