Whoopsie Daisy
My cousin decided it would be a good idea to give my dad two squares of THC chocolate for Christmas, because he’d mentioned that maaaaaybe he’d want to get high. My parents are 75-year-old Republicans. That was a big maybe. Well, my mom is like an unsupervised puppy when it comes to chocolate. You put half a candy bar down and YOINK, gone when you come back.
You can guess what happened. My mom went sniffing for some chocolate and found it, then ate both squares of chocolate (~8-16 doses, depending on one’s tolerance) and got so high that she couldn’t move or talk. Her last words, high as a kite, were, “I think this might be the end?” before my dad, fearing she’d had a stroke, called an ambulance.
They took her to the hospital and when she came around a bit, the doctor asked her what she’d eaten and she said just two squares of chocolate. At which point I assume my father facepalmed and my parents had to tell the doctor that my mother was in fact, simply higher than the RedBull Orbit Jumper. Anyway, they ran every test in the world on her and found out she had major blockages in three coronary arteries.
So now she’s having a triple bypass tomorrow.