Schizophrenia Caused Darryl's Hiccups (but we didn't have time for that; we had to prepare for the tornado)

Darryl finally carried his hiccuping arse to the doc-in-the-box for a "real" remedy (although I stand behind my Whipped Cream Vodka tonic) and the doctor prescribed him Thorazine.

"Thorazine is used to treat the symptoms of schizophrenia (a mental illness that causes disturbed or unusual thinking, loss of interest in life, and strong or inappropriate emotions) and other psychotic disorders (conditions that cause difficulty telling the difference between things or ideas that are real and

things or ideas that are not real) and to treat the symptoms of mania (frenzied, abnormally excited mood) in people who have bipolar disorder (manic depressive disorder; a condition that causes episodes of mania, episodes of depression, and other abnormal moods). Thorazine is also used to treat severe behavior problems such as explosive, aggressive behavior and hyperactivity in children 1-12 years of age. Thorazine is also used to control nausea and vomiting, to relieve hiccups that have lasted one month or longer, and to relieve restlessness and nervousness that may occur just before surgery." 

[The words in red were highlighted for emphasis - just saying - I see where the doctor was going with this]

So I'm fairly certain that schizophrenia caused Darryl's hiccups. 

He picked me up on Friday afternoon so we could head to Knotty Pines cabin for a relaxing weekend (along with Lawrence and Rick, but they were driving separately).  When he picked me up he had already taken two doses of the Thorazine (even though he was only supposed to have taken one dose - I checked him for evidence of drool and when I didn't see any, I felt it was OK to get in the car).  The hiccups were not going away.  Still certain that I would be the one to find the cure for his hiccups (cause who needs doctors anyway, especially since we have the internet and imagination) I googled "diaphragm and pressure points" (because the diaphragm is the epicenter of the hiccups) and found this:

Face Pressure Point

Find the center of your philtrum, which is the groove between your upper lip and nose. It is more pronounced in some people. Press in the center of this groove, pushing in towards the teeth. Press and hold for 20 to 30 seconds.

So Darryl and I drove up I-75 together putting pressure on our philtrums (I don't know why I was doing it too, maybe I was afraid of catching sympathetic hiccups, but it just seemed like the thing to do at the time.  I hope he appreciated the show of support).  But alas, the hiccups prevailed, again.  Maybe something is wrong with his philtrum?  I think that happens when you have schizophrenia; It affects your philtrum first - then your mind - then the hiccup epicenter.  Our next idea was to try M&Ms.  It is always our hope that we can find legitimate reasons to binge on chocolate - "I have to eat these M&Ms. They control my schizophrenia."  Of course that means I had to eat M&Ms too - I mean I was "all in" at this point.  Sadly, the hiccups remained impervious to both traditional and homeopathic remedies.  They continued through Dr. Pepper, Velveeta  Cheese dip (Southern remedy of course), scoopable tortilla chips, wine, pizza with peperoni and jalapenos, gummy butterflies, honey BBQ Fritos and brownies.  Discouraged, Darryl took a third Thorazine and went to bed.  I had a half mind to set my alarm clock on 2 hr alerts so I could check to make sure he was still breathing and that he hadn't drowned in his own spittle, but I didn't.  Our friendship only goes so far and my philtrum hasn't been the same since I pressured it. 

While dealing with Darryl's "issue" (and by dealing I mean eating mass quantities of food)  we also had the imminent threat of "damaging winds, large hail and possibly a tornado" headed for Knotty Pines Cabin (i.e. Mentone Alabama).  Alabama has been batting a thousand when it comes to tornadoes these days, so we didn't take this threat lightly!!!  Mostly we built a fire in the porch fireplace and sat on the porch listening for the sound of a train (we argued whether it was the whistle or the chug-a-chug-a-chug we were supposed to be listening for).  We also all crammed into the games closet to see if the four of us could fit in there and rigged a phone cord on the door handle so we could pull it into the closet with us and hold tight so the twister couldn't rip the door open and scoop us out.  It seemed like a good plan so we all went to bed. 

This morning Darryl's *you-know-whats* were gone.  He doesn't want any of us to say the word because he is sure it will jinx it - so when he leaves the room we whisper the word *hiccups* like we are talking about *cancer* or *dead puppies* or some other such things that you are supposed to whisper about.  Other than the fact that Darryl occasionally yells out the word "France" he seems to be back to normal, relatively speaking.  Oh, and the tornado never came to Knotty Pines Cabin, so all is well in Mentone, Alabama, relatively speaking.  

How I began my evening at Knotty Pines Cabin. . .

 

The string and telephone cord I tied on the handle so we could
hold the door shut from the inside (brilliant)

 

Our "hunker down closet" (aka the games closet),
which is under the stairs so we would be in there
like Harry Potter