So I did. Or should I say "sooooooo eeeeeeeeeeyee deeeeeed..." (More on that later).
It was the day before my Japan trip and I thought I'd go visit a doctor friend with a box of chocolates and a request. Turns out that she gets lots of boxes of chocolates and requests, but was still willing to accomodate mine. Success! Stilnox was mine.
It came in a rather unassuming box. It was yellow with dark blue writing and came with a warning to not take the drug whilst drunk (which is a hard request if you ask me). I was moderately disappointed as I was expecting warning signs that were going make cigarette packets look like fun illustrations, stating "do not take this drug unless you're hard-core" or something like that. My inner rebel quietly hummed in discontent.
Anyway, I tucked this rather unassuming box into my luggage and forgot about it til I was on the plane from Gold Coast to Japan. The plane was nice and had luxiourous seats for a JetStar aircraft. By luxiourous, I mean that it was as comfortable as a train seat: enough padding that you can't complain, but not too much that your arse is sore. This was luxury as compared to the plane TO the Gold Coast where I felt that I was the cargo on a Australia Post dropship.
Since the scintilating service of JetStar meant that I was going to be awake all the time (sarcasm) I decided to try one of these pseudo-illicit drug babies out and take it for a spin...
The result? I zonked out. I mean ZONKED out. I think I slept for like 6 hrs straight. A feat that is foreign to me in my normal bed, let alone inclined at a meager 30 degrees whilst being jostled by air-turbulence that made being stuck in a clothes dryer look silly.
I was happy. And I liked the drug. It made me sleep. Or the drug messed with my head enough that I thought I had attained enlightenment. Did I mention I didn't hear the call for a medical emergency? Luckily another doctor was on-board (not that I assume I could've done much!).
And that was about the only "normal" experience with this drug. Now for all the crap that happened while on the said drug.
Incident one: Immunity isn't great.
First time my friend Mizumo tried Stilnox was an interesting experience. We were in Kyoto and he was sick. Great. So in the spirit of great friendship, we ditched him to go sight-seeing while he lay at home writhing, err, I mean recovering. He was meant to take a Stilnox and head to bed so that he'd be nice and recovered for our up-and-coming adventures in Osaka.
We left late in the afternoon at about 4PM-ish. And after some awesome sightseeing, where I can't say we really missed Mizumo at all (apart from the points where we realised that we wanted him there as he was the only one who spoke fluent Japanese, but interestingly, couldn't read any of it), we returned home to find him sitting at the computer. He was looking not quite right to say the least.
It turned out that Mizumo had taken a Stilnox and tried to get to bed. However, due to his awesome Japanese/Asian enzyme systems in his body, he was immune to the effects of this drug (this, by the way, is pure speculation- I have no idea how that evil drug works). So being the intellectually superior medical student that he is, he decided to take another pill OF A DRUG THAT MESSES WITH THE HORMONES IN YOUR BRAIN (Ok, I lied- I know that much about Stilnox).
I'm sure you've met those people, either at bus stops, at work or hiding in your closet. You know the sort: they smile this unchanging constant smile all the time which makes you think they've either had too much Botox or have had some strange stroke syndrome causing permanent smilies. They also tend to talk in this perfect monotone whilst trying to sound up-beat and seem "nice". With the sum of all that, they just some across as a creepy serial killer or sex-offender.
Yeah, you know the sort. That was what Mizumo was like, minus the creepy smile. He was talking in that strange way about how he'd taken 2 pills and decided to stalk people on the tragedy that is Facebook. Add in a bit of intellectual disability to his speech and you could see why I was a bit worried, but dismissed that thought as there were 4 senior medical students and 1 recently graduated doctor in the house. Actually, I was more comforted by the fact that the hospital was about 50m away.
Anyway, I kicked him off the computer since last time I checked, stalking never cured any sickness. So there I was, sitting and stalking MY Facebook friends (Hey- don't judge me! I wasn't sick!) when I hear commotion coming from the kitchen and our friend Hayworth barging through the room yelling "Mizumo's a dick!"
Mizumo came out saying some crap, but I was bit busy checking out photos of people I didn't know to really care, so he went up to his room. I went a few minutes later to grab my USB stick, only to have him start an utterly meaningless conversation. It went something like this...
Mizu: Hey, I didn't mean to hurt him. It's just the martial arts that I do. It's all about self defense. I'm not meant to attack anyone.
Me: Wtf are you on about?
Mizu: We were play fighting I had him in a chokehold and supposedly hurt him when he was tapping me to let go. I swear I didn't do it on purpose.
Me: He's a mature kid- I'm sure Hayworth understands
Mizu: Yeah, but it's the martial arts that I do. It's all about self defense. I'm not meant to attack anyone.
Me: You just said that.
Mizu: Say what? Anyways, it's the martial arts that I do. It's all about self defense. I'm not meant to attack anyone.
Me: ...
Me: (interrupting) ...I'm gonna go check that Hayworth is ok. (runaway!)
I went down-stairs to talk to Hayworth, who had plonked himself infront of the computer and was perusing my friends on Stalkbook. He gave the same story, only with one major difference: they had been play fighting when Mizumo got him in a chokehold, Hayworth tried to talk and get Mizu to let go, but Mizumo was talking some crap about martial arts. Failing this, Hayworth, who was feeling some suffocation tried to punch him lightly. The monotone about the martial continued. He proceeded to punch Mizumo HARD. This still had no effect until at the last moment Mizumo realised that he might've been hurting Hayworth and let go.
See? The cause of all friendly injuries: Stilnox.
Incident two: Memories, Dreams and Reflections.
After a hectic new years eve, everyone was knackered. Especially me. So in the spirit of rest and relaxation I decided to take some Stilnox on the plane back to Australia. Worst. Idea. Ever. Now remember the first time I took it and I zonked out? Now I'm not too sure about what happened that time...
Let's talk about the flight back. I took the Stilnox basically at the time we left. I fell asleep. Normal right? Wrong! Because my next patchy memory is of a moment where I wake up from a strange dream and then fall back into the same dream, bu my brain fully believes that the dream was another part of reality. As in "oh my God, I could only so believe that if I was actively psychotic!" My next memory is calling a friend from Gold Coast airport. Then next one is of me vomiting somewhere.
And that's all. That's all I remember for my 2 flights, one which got delayed by 4 hrs. I don't remember waiting. I don't remember being annoyed. My memory stops being linear at Japan, it has those 3 bits, then I'm in Melb.
On a complete sidenote: imagine a long rectangular box with the ends cut off. You put your eye to one end and you see all 4 sides and light coming through the other end, where the end is missing. Now imagine that each wall was one of those flat travelators they have in airports to help you walk from terminal to terminal (or to just generally move if you're American). Now imagine a train carriage that is being pushed through that by the 4 travelator walls towards the sky. That was my dream. THAT is what I thought was happening when I was flying on the plane. THAT was supposedly the normal state for me: being able to leave my body, go for a 360 wander around the shuttle as it got pushed up to the sky via A TRAVELATOR. And this is a conservative dream!
You know how my memory is patchy about that end of this trip until I'm in Melbourne? Well that in itself is a miracle. I had no pen nor the mental capacity to fill out a customs declaration form. I have no idea exactly how or even if I submitted such a thing. Not only that, I was carrying a fucking throwing star in my luggage! If customs had found that, I'm sure I'd be the first person arrested in the airport for a Stilnox related customs mishap.
It turns out that I had actually talked to my friend Mike who was also coming back to Australia, but going to Sydney instead of Melbourne. He filled me in on some of the story. I had supposedly asked the air-hostess (very sheepishly) for a pen and somehow managed to fill out the card. I had told him I had been vomiting, but he did not see this happen, so we're still not sure if I was imagining all this or not. All that happened is that when collecting out luggage at the airport where we parted ways, I ran to the toilet claiming I was feeling nauseous. Yep- I don't remember any of this.
Another friend filled me in on the other part of this story. Anny is a friend in Melbourne that, according to my phone records, I had rung whilst my flight was delayed. She recalled me calling with the conversation as follows:
Me: Heeeeeeeeyyyy, Annnnnyyyyyyyyy.
Anny: Hey, welcome back!
Me: Noooooooooooooo.... I'm in.... Goooooolllddd Coaaaaasstt.
Anny: Are you okay? You sound like a hippy.
Me: Yooooooou're sssttrrraaaaaaaaannngeeeee...
Anny: Errrr....sure. Ring me later. Erm. I'm at work. That's it. *click* *beeeep. beeep beeeep*
Again. I remember absolutely none of this. If you look up the wikipedia entry on Stilnox, I think you'll find that I've covered almost all the main side effects noted for the drug. Except for the increased libido part. Or maybe I did, but just don't remember.
So in summary, all I can say is this: if you're a drug addict or a hippie looking for a hallucinogen that is a) legal b) subsidised by the government, go to your GP and say ou have trouble sleeping! It has all the good effects of illicit drugs, minus the illicit bit! Use at your own discretion
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