Got Meth?

I wanted to tell Dr. A that I'd rather have my stomach stapled then try amphetamines. Instead I said that I Googled IT and didn't like the potential side effects. He shakes his head gravely, however with a faint superior smile at the corners of his mouth. He says, like to a child: I'm glad you Googled IT. However, my job as someone with extensive clinical experience is to put everything into a context for you. I want to say: how's this for a context? woman with lifelong panic disorder and hospitalization should perhaps, just maybe, possibly, not do meth. Instead I say, coyly: I couldn't NOT Google IT. He says: that's what I'm here for. Huh? Then, he scribbles something, gets up from his chair, walks toward me and goes: here. the other one won't be good anymore. they are only good for 30 days. And without any other words exchanged, he dismisses me with yet another prescription for a brand-name psychostimulant medication composed of racemic amphetamine aspartate monohydrate, racemic amphetamine sulfate, dextroamphetamine saccharide, and dextroamphetamine sulfate. As the saying goes, coffee is for pussies.