Well now, you sound like a true baseball fan. Personally, I love tailgating, but could just as well skip the game. Especially now that they so often play on artificial turf and the option of watching the grass grow is no longer available. I suppose the midweek games when they may be painting part of the stands and one can watch it dry could still be entertaining. But hey, for some a cold beer and hotdog (or better yet a brat) during the ball game is close to nirvana, so who am I to judge their yogic path.

I have been anesthetized a number of times for various procedures and surgeries, the vast majority of which are decades in the mirror during my cancer treatment. I recall when they would take marrow biopsies they didn’t want to knock me out so they would use midazolam. I called it razzeldasalam as I would feel like my vision would sparkle a bit before the lights went out. They told me I was not really “out” or “asleep”, but that I would not form any memory of the event and therefore not dread it so much the next time they had to do it. I would razzledazzle out of awareness and then slowly come back a bit later with a sore hip with no memory of what happened, just a gap in time and a feeling something took place. They say it is a very painful procedure, I suppose digging through the hip bone with a tree coring type device would be, but I couldn’t tell you for sure as I was not there as far as I can remember.

Funny you should mention dry heaves. When I first checked into the hospital to begin treatment they had one of my favorite treats on the menu, so I chowed down as it was to be my last meal until after the chemo regimen. The next day they hung the IVs, razzeldazzled me out, and I don’t remember much until 24 hours later, when I remember a feeling of being awake but exhausted and drained. I was told I heaved 20 something times over the course of one nurses shift (which I suppose is why they couldn't knock me out completely), but I don’t remember it. I woke up for one short time in a daze and asked when it would stop, I vaguely recall an answer but can’t recall what it was, then I drifted back off until it was all over. It’s not a memory of being sick, just of asking that question, and then getting an answer, but drifting off again before I could understand or remember what it was.

For 15 plus years after that, if I even thought a thought of that favorite treat I mentioned earlier, my mouth would begin to water, not from hunger, but as a prelude to becoming violently ill, and I would have to desperately chase the thought away to avoid throwing up. It took me some time to realize that because the poison that got me so sick came directly into my veins, my mind did not connect getting sick with the chemo and instead decided it must have been that last meal I ate, and formed a violent nauseated reaction to even the thought of it. It was probably a good 25 years before I could have a little again. These days they warn people not to eat their favorite foods before chemo and/or radiation.

The two stories are interesting because it was the same drug in both, but in the first my mind never really formed a memory or dread of the biopsy procedure. In the second, despite only one very short memory, that didn’t actually involve me being violently ill, unbeknownst to my conscious mind, my subconscious mind formed a very strong memory of what I had eaten prior to it and triggered a reflexive reaction to even the thought of it for years after.