Humor/Satire

My Lifelong Struggle With Oxygen Addiction

I had my first hit in a maternity ward

“An Oxygen addict takes a hit” — Credit: Antonio Guillem on Shutterstock

I remember my first hit clearly. It was 44 years ago and happened to be on my birthday.

There I was…warm, wet, cozy, and just chillin’ upside down. All of a sudden I felt my head slowly being squeezed. Squeezing harder! Cold! Lights!

Those horrible, painful lights!

Still upside down but freezing now, I saw a large white mass come at me with a rubber stick. The mass shoved the rubber stick into my mouth and sucked hard.

I cried.

I inhaled. It burned at first. But then…that was it. Ahhhhhhhhh. Waaaaaaaa. Ahhhhhhh. Waaaaaaaaa.

Those beautiful hits of air made me feel a better.

“It’s a boooooy!!!” someone said as they wrapped me in warm swaddling clothes.

But I couldn’t think about sex right now.

I needed more of this feeling. So I breathed again. And again.

Bliss.

Years have passed since that day and I can honestly say I haven’t gone 3 minutes without taking a hit of oxygen.

I don’t know what it’s like not to be addicted to it.