demorol, sweet demorol


This Friday, I had a minor surgical procedure to repair my receding lower gumline. A small strip of tissue was cut from the top of my mouth, and grafted directly onto the gums, right in front of my lower incisors. Supposedly, this will make me look less like a scurvy sufferer, and prevent me from having to undergo many root canals later in life. Currently, it means that a big chunk of my gums appears to be tied to the front of my mouth with fishing line. I also brush half of my teeth using only a Q-tip, which would be quaint and charming if I were an anthropromorphic storybook rodent, but in human reality just makes me look like I'm developmentally disabled, not to be trusted with objects as sharp as toothbrush bristles..

Still, the operation itself was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, thanks to an intravenous visit from my new best friend, demorol. I was extremely nervous before the operation, with my pulse rate spiking to around 120 when the IV was first put in. Dr. Reed cautioned me that I would soon feel like I had ingested a "couple of martinis," but the first few minutes of the drip left me disappointed. I think it was right around the time I began trying to ask probing, specific questions about the hygienist's academic career, with a mouth full of gauze, that the demorol kicked in.

It was a lovely experience all around. I kept having little mini-dreams which usually ended with a mysterious voice saying, "Wider!" I tried to think of song lyrics, to distract myself from the cutting and the sewing and the spit-sucking-up. This was doomed from the outset, as I got only one verse, mentally, into Elliott Smith's "Say Yes" before getting distracted. I wanted to allow the acoustic guitar part after the first verse to finish, imaginarily, but I lost concentration before "It's always been wait and see" and began thinking about pirates and/or weightlifting.

Watching pieces of my gum tissue being rearranged didn't even bother me at all. I thought I'd be disgusted by the blood, or the cutting, but all I was thinking at the time was, "I'm going to get these people some flowers. This whole office. Flowers. Yes." I tried to tell them to expect flowers at my next visit, while my dad was walking me out to the car, but I don't think it was intelligible through my novocained lips. Later, one of the staff remarked how I had been a well-behaved patient, and "surprisingly affable."

Later on, the demorol faded, and so did my spirits. A few hours after the operation, I lunched on some Jamba Juice. I am not allowed to use a straw, for fear of loosening the stitches, so I had to spoon the Orange Appeal into my mouth. My mouth was sore, and my lip was still very numb. On my third attempt, the spoonful of juice fell heartbreakingly out of my mouth and onto my pants, and I shed one single tear.


you were passed out cold on the couch when I saw you last. let me tell you, nothing is cuter than a passed-out sean. we all took turns drawing lipstick mustaches on you.

Hey now... I thought the mustaches were going to be our little secret.

But yes, indeed, it was very cute when Percoset consumption resulted in a truly passed-out Sean.

>Later, one of the staff remarked how I had been
>a well-behaved patient, and "surprisingly

this is funny because it's as if they had imagined you to be homicidal, the latest bay area serial killer, the 'scourvey scourge'. it's like someone having a conversation with you and then calling you 'surprisingly intelligent' or 'surprisingly clean-smelling'.

i once had a piece of wire from my braces shoot into my cheek. they operated hours later, but the anesthetic didn't quite work. i felt them digging and cutting but i tried to be brave. i felt the blood trickling and i told them, 'i think i'm bleeding.' the staff took a 5-minute laughter break. later, it really hurt, and i said, Ow!

It's a good thing you screamed just then, the nurse tells me later, Otherwise we might not have found it!

Yes, it's a good thing your goddam anesthetic didn't kick in, jackass, i didn't reply.

Hey, read this especially if your the one who wrote what I am replying to. You just got a taste of Demoral, all I MUST tell you is that you NEED to read a book called Valley of the Dolls. It was written by Jaquline Suzzan and it is the best selling book of all time, anyway, it revolvs around women who took and abused demoral and it is a wonderfull story, something tell's me you'd like it. Also, rent the movie "isnt she great", it is about the woman who wrote valley of the dolls.

something else you might like is "postcards from the edge," which deals with addiction (but not to demoral). and that movie with winona ryder which i can't remember the title but she's in rehab? and also "dude where's my car" is totally about drugs.

I had demrol when i had my child and it was so good i had to have it again it burned at first then i urn for it every day that was 2 years ago

Where can I purchase demoral on line?



For your prescription opiate and sugar shoe needs, I suggest you frequent Sushi's fine site.


I was wanting information about demoral for tumor or cancer patients. But beats me what I found.

This is a serious web sight. Should not be used by a bunch of kids, or dope feens. People need to get a life and relize some people are serious aTnd are concerned about the meds given them.

ha... wait, THIS is a serious website which shouldn't be used by a bunch of kids?

i think someone is suggesting that cementhorizon is in bad hands. cement army.... chaaaaaaaarge!

so, just to clarify, zembla should be off-limits to feens and teens?


does the fact that "barbara" and "ann" are in fact the same person make this all an elaborately staged beach boys reference?

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This page contains a single entry by Sean Keane published on December 23, 2002 2:24 PM.

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