NyQuil Story

Colleen Hughes
4/23/09
Elika-Sociology

Entertwingle
Life is like a bowl of chocolate, it’s messy; At the risk of sounding like an Alice in Wonderland tale of a mischievous, nonsensical, blabbering drug trip, I start on my own tale of nonsense. Instead I’ll tell you about how it all started, how I got to where I am, my life story… I’m on a street at night; it’s dark except for the eerie, but comforting glow of an autumn moon and four streetlights, evenly spaced apart. I’d prefer it be five because then I’d feel better, after all five is my lucky number. But, life is uneven and I’m often told to get over it.
I’m an anxious person, and I needed to get over it, fast. You see, I am a college student and life is hectic and demanding. Oftentimes I think that I’ll be able to get over anything, but other moments I feel as though I don’t have the drive to accomplish those very goals and molehills I not too long ago vowed I would crush and rise over. I think that’s why I did it. I mean, I don’t drink, and as much as I would like, there are no ‘street dealers’, gangs or rampant drug sales happening anywhere near or on my campus, in fact, there aren’t any at all.
I had intended to commit suicide, but with the unfortunate circumstances of life, I didn’t have any money so I couldn’t buy anything that would end my life, like a rope, knife or gun. Pills, I thought, would be too risky. I may end up with more grievances in my body and failure of my organs rather then escaping life’s severity. I couldn’t buy a rope without money, besides, where would I hang myself? And eventually I came to the conclusion that you can’t just choke yourself with your own hands. I also entertained the thought that jumping in water and submerging my body to allow a collapse of air in my lungs and fluid filled body might accomplish my goal, but that had a higher chance of giving me hypothermia.
So really, I’d like to tell you that I did it because I was sick with feverish symptoms, however, it was out of a desperate need to escape reality that I ran away, I ran as far as I could without going anywhere, I wanted to stop feeling the pain of heartbreak, the stress that followed me daily, the people I wanted to get away from but couldn’t, not even mentally, as my thoughts would always drift towards them.
I got up in my green cargo pants, and black shirt, looked in the mirror and figured I appeared decent enough, then walked to my neighborhood drug store, PD Symps. My mind could only fathom the irony that only I could come up with. I think PD Symps stood for (Prescription drug symptoms) I laughed to myself, as I walked in. Without realizing it, I suddenly walked into a shelf of tampons. This was even funnier to me in my disconnected state. I accidently knocked a bunch of them off as I tried to back away in my complete disbelief. Suddenly, in response to the loud commotion, a stern looking pharmacist in a long white lab coat and shiny gold name badge walked towards me. “Uh, Ugh, I’m sick.” I stammered, he looked me up and down then said, “You do look pale, what are your symptoms?” “Um, my head hurts and body aches.” I said “ok well, Can I recommend some cough syrup? Nyquil is good at treating numerous symptoms and helps for a number of reasons; it treats head congestion, runny nose, coughing, sneezing, sore throat, chest congestion, aches and pains as well as fever.” I was a little suspicious so I asked questions. “What is it made of?” “Its made up of 500 mgs of Acetaminophen, that’s what makes it a pain and fever reducer, Dextromethorphan, Doxylamine succinate, a powerful antihistamine and some alcohol.” He laughed and said with a wink, “In your current state you look like you could benefit from the ingredients. Doxylamine causes drowsiness, dizziness, lightheadness, and interferes with cognitive and decision making abilities.” Well… I did want to feel better, and impaired cognitive function sounded like just what I needed. So I paid for two bottles of green Nyquil and went home. Instead of the quote reality is better than your dreams, I felt sleep was much better than reality, I wanted to be out like a light, I didn’t even want to remember my name as I drifted into a blissful slumber, if only for a while to distract and prohibit me of thinking of my problems. That’s why I treated Nyquil as a drug and did what I did. The reality of it was about how I escaped my problems with a simple, yet effective and peaceful drug of choice, Nyquil.
My only escape was semi consciousness as I tried to sleep as long as I could. Even my dreams held me in a prison I was mentally unable to escape from. Which created not only a physical hell during the hours I was awake but during my time asleep my mind betrayed me. Yes, I said it. That three flavored, multi symptom cold and flu reliever. That nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, aching, coughing, best sleep you ever got with a cold medicine. Except, I used it to sleep better and then some. Oh yes, it was the best sleep one could ever get with a cold. Heck, that bottle of liquid magic could solve anyone’s problems; at least I began to think. School wasn’t going the best for me, I was in a funk with all the emotions piling up over my head, my boyfriend had broken up with me on an allegation that I’d cheated, and to some degree, it was true. My lonely friend and I took advantage of our unstable scenario and kissed at an inconvenient time. From then on, despite my friend’s and my own self anguish or our ‘we could give a damn about who we hurt from there on’ attitudes, we always remained attached to each other despite our cold, self enforced distance. So in essence, my stress drove my need to abuse the least likely of all drugs. Cough medicine.
To numb my pain, I took a few more cup full’s then the small instructions told me to take. I did it willingly and desperately. It provided an all over calming and warming sensation that provided me with an all over sedation that I felt was just what I needed.
We used each other continually until finally we realized that we were each other’s drug of choice, realizing that, we began to date. Distance has begun to settle in again, with busy schedules, other errands to get done, time is taking it’s toll, we’ve seen each other once in the last two months, and from what I have seen, our time together is not just fleeting but seemingly non existent. I reminisce about how our time as friends with benefits seemed as though we made time to use each other at least once a week or every two weeks, and now, a relationship seems to be dooming my outlook.
Meanwhile the Nyquil started giving me a tingling feeling in my arms and legs, then a heavy feeling as my limbs settled into comfortable positions by my side and I rapidly started to lose touch of what was going on around me as everything slowly became blurry and I began to loose touch with reality. As a bonus, I was numb, but could still see. I would equate it to a hypnotist putting you under; you don’t quite realize what is going on or where you are, but that you are safe and don’t feel pain. That, in essence is how calming the combination of Acetaminophen and Dextromethophan in Nyquil also found in Robtussin as well other cold and flu medications can be.
Right now I’m standing in this dark street on this cold night, it’s chilly, but I have a black jacket that my nana bought me, with a furry hood. You know, the same one you see popular girls wearing at the mall. Yea, I’m pretty proud as I look down. I wonder if this is really my jacket or another sedation induced dream I’m having. I know I’ve wanted this type of jacket for a while. I start questioning; did Nana really give this to me? I don’t really know. This is a possible side effect I found the hard way. Reality vs. half consciousness. My current boyfriend, the one I’m supposed to be so close to hasn’t talked to me in a few days and continues to distance himself by barely acting as though we’re going out, although maintaining the façade I think that is our relationship upon my probing questions. He makes it appear as though it’s all in my head when all I hear from him are a cumulative amount of five words in a day and none allude to affection.
I felt my body release its tension, as my eyes began to close, my body became heavy, like a steamroller, sank down into the bead, as his face is erased from my mind. Strange images began to appear, strange scenarios, places and temperature changes. It seemed like I’ve been in a comfortable feeling without anxiety for a while now, I’ve seen so much, I don’t know what is real anymore. I think I’ve dissociated from reality. In the last hour I’ve experienced snapping turtles, bloated penguins, trundled Griffiths, the whole 64 Zoo Lane and Clifford. Haha I like the red dog, he was entertaining but, very strange. He sat on the edge of a Ferris wheel next to the stuffed panda with his marble eye hanging out by a stitch. Poor panda. There was an iguana that was emerald green and navy blue whose name was Emeril like the chef and a red ant named Peter. He was mean and surprisingly grumpy. Then there was the camel that smoked Marlboro cigarettes. He was very adamant that he would never smoke Camel cigarettes for he claimed they were wrong and hurtful. His name was Jake. There was Babar, Paddington Bear, Franklin the Turtle and Little Bear. The weird thing is that they were all on a Ferris wheel with me. I should have struck up a conversation with Hanging by a string panda, but I believe he was making deals with some of the other creatures on the Ferris wheel. I had reason to believe this because he was badgering the Koala from 64 Zoo Lane and hitting him up for money. When the Koala peacefully offered up some of his drug like Eucalyptus, the panda suddenly became increasingly aggressive. He ran up to the innocent giraffe kicked him and then ran to Babar and stole his crown. The mean ant named Peter was his right hand man and he threatened to bite anyone who came near, every animal here had always been known to be quite peaceful as reflected in their shows I had watched. How the Panda and the red ant came to be I have no idea. I realized that although I was deeply submerged in my own consciousness, this was a direct result of my depression and guilt I’d felt in real life, but mostly I’d attribute all this to the Doxylamine which made me space out.
I was kicked off for Paddington bear’s allegation’s that I’d stolen his marmalade, but really, Franklin the Turtle had stolen it and threw it off the Ferris wheel. After I was kicked off, I walked down the street and saw a hand gesturing out a limo for me to come closer. My inhibitions were lowered so I figured what the hell? And got in the front.
Smoky the bear was the driver… He said in a deep voice ‘Avoid the fire” Don’t Play with fire! As he flicked a lighter on and off, on and off as he drove. “Don’t play with fire!” As smoky started screaming! Do you smell that? And yelled “Fire!!!” But clearly. There was no fire. Smoky the bear, after all these years of being the mascot and spokesperson for anti piros and fire safety, started having a flashback. “Ahhhhh! No, no! I will not, fire!!! My forest! Ahhh!!!” he screamed to no one in particular. One must question after all these years what set smoky off. “Are those birthday candles?! Fire! I smell smoke! Where’s my shovel!! My cake!!” He screamed further. He told me that apparently at one time, the little forest animals had thrown him a birthday party and he was blindfolded. When he smelt the candles burning he thought it was a fire and started whacking the cake with his shovel. In his awareness and paranoia he had destroyed his own cake. The little forest animals became mad at him and turned their back on him. He was shunned. His only alternative was to advocate for fire safety and throw himself into his work. For over 60 years he has been doing just that and he still remembers that day. He looked at me and in a grough voice said “Ooh you smell like Nyquil! I love the green flavor the best, and I smell it on you.” “Really?” I said, shocked, he was clearly out of his mind. “Yes” said Smoky “I take it because no other cough suppressant tastes anything like it and it numbs my body and stops the aches and pains, did you know that there used to be an ingredient in Nyquil that was also in Methamphedamine? The FDA pulled it mandating that that ingredient be pulled out of it right away and any other cold and flu medicine such as Sudaphed, Robotussin and other well known cough medicines. The ironic thing is it was used to relieve sinus congestion and allergies and was never replaced after it was removed in Nyquil, but was in Sudaphed with a safer ingredient called Phenylephrine. That ingredient advertised on the side of the bottles and packages as an antihistamine was called pseudoephedrine was known to be highly addicting as meth addicts started to call Nyquil the “poor man’s crack”. It was known as an upper that would pump someone up, but was proved to be too dangerous and addictive to include in everyday over the counter medicine. Laughing manically, he said “Mmm Poor man’s crack ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Even in my delusional, wacked out mind, I knew that this bear was crazy. He should get some serious help.
Smoky started to drive faster, speeding around street corners at over 100 miles per hour as the back of his limo swung around wildly, nearly avoiding hitting people, knocking into buildings, swinging over sidewalks. I looked for passengers in the back to see their states, if they were ok or needed some help. I pressed the button in the front of the limo that lowered the tinted divider which separates the passengers from the driver, and to my horror, I heard a rousing chorus of “A-A-a-a-a-a-a-a Very Merry un-birthday to me? To you! A very merry unbirthday, for me? For you! So blow the candles out my dear, and make a wish come truuuuuuuuue! A V-E-R-Y MERRY UN-BIRTHDAY TO Y-OOOOOOO-UUU!! With a few beer mugs in mid air swinging side to side. I couldn’t see anyone, but I heard drunken voices singing and mugs clanking against each other as if by invisible hands. At the sight of that, My mouth dropped open aghast as the limo suddenly lurched forward and accelerated up 120 mph which crashed horrifically into a red fire hydrant on the curb of a busy street. The back door swung open as mumblings came out one by one of at least five invisible voices and the click of their shoes on the cobblestone as the hopped out of the limo. “Oy vey!” said one voice, ‘I’m gonna puke!” said another in a slurred voice, “I’m not paying him a dime” said another, as the voices trailed off. I looked at Smokey and all he said was “Only you can prevent Forest Fires…or light em up.” As he walked out of the cab, and then said “Like Billy Collins said ‘I’m going to show them how a professional does it.”
I put a hand to me head because it started throbbing and opened my eyes. I was in my own bed. Never again, I thought, would I put myself in such a comatose state that I put myself in such a long state of a semi conscious awareness. That was one wild ride that hurt.
I think people do what they do and experiment with drugs because they are trying to escape from something and they don’t realize what they have gotten into until it’s too late. Some people sell drugs, but I believe that they only do it to maintain a living such as Columbia, many people in Columbia rely on the drug trade to feed themselves. Overall, just because it is deadly, and some drugs are illegal, never judge a person’s reasoning or rational for participating in drugs or illegal behavior until you’ve walked in their shoes. I feel that sociology never takes that type of stance on why society does what they do. Sometimes, there isn’t even a definable reasoning, nor a clear experience of what someone is going through during their time with drugs or experimentation, and even why or criminal behavior. I am not someone who allocates drug use and am against it, but the overall ability to be open to emotional rationale within a drug abusers mind was what I wanted to illustrate in my story.