This morning I took my husband to have some dental surgery and they put him completely under. I have to tell you he is quite comical coming off major drugs. His brother has had a couple back surgeries and so we've seen him in similar form and he is so funny we've named him Drunkle Steve. I'm thinking Rob should have a similar nickname.
It was one of those things where the nurse is giving you the aftercare instructions and tells you in detail what you can and can't do. Then every two minutes Rob would ask the same question over again. We answered him like he hadn't asked it before--being the polite, nice people we both were and all. Lol! He did it all the way home, too. Then about an hour after we got home, he turned to me and said, "Did they give us any written instructions for aftercare or say anything about what I could or couldn't do today? I said, "Yes, Honey, they gave me a pamphlet and they listed off several things." Then, with that nose-out-of-joint-sneering-kind-of-tone he says to me "Well, it sure would have been nice if they'd told me what was going on!" Lol! All I could do was laugh as I explained to him that they had--about forty times. ;)
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