You and I Have Very Different Definitions of "Relaxed"

So now it’s Thursday, and everything’s good to go for the colonoscopy.  I’m escorted down to the exam room where the nurses explain what’s going to happen and try to get me situated. 

Once again, my back becomes a problem as about two minutes in the position they want me in has my back screaming. Since it's (reasonably) important to them that I be comfortable, we spend a fair amount of time with pillows and rolled up towels trying to find something that will work both for the procedure and for my back. (Two hours later this effort will strike me as somewhat pointless.)

So I’m lying on my side in my weirdly crabbed position and the nurse tells me she’s going to give me a drug to “relax” me. All I can say is that she and I must have very different definitions for that word, as the next thing I know ninety minutes have passed and I’m back in my hospital room.

Personally, I think of relaxed as calm, not comatose. But if it means I’ll have absolutely no recollection, at all, of the procedure -- and I don’t -- I'm not going to argue the point too hard.