The next ten minutes or so, during which I drifted back to the "I" and "thou" duality of the terrene world were the most emotionally intense part of the experience. During this interlude I had the unquestioning conviction that every one of the three trillion or so cells of my body was being melted down and reminted with Howard's initials upon it. My flesh felt like soft wax being prepared for a stamp, after which it would become marble again, etched with a new monogram-ma tic seal. I felt entirely convinced that some fundamental genetic transformation was occurring, not just symbolically but in the actual structure of my physical being.
"Every cell is a bell, and every bell is ringing 'Howard.' " Echoing this affirmation the cell bells pealed joyously and the thought came to mind that this was our nuptual cell-ebration. (For some reason plays on words seem to be a common feature of the ketamine experience.) Images, sounds, and ideas fused in a medley of chimes accompanying the stamping of each cell with his name.
"It doesn't really matter whether the world knows we are married," I thought returning reluctantly to the room in "Sherwood Forest." "From this day on that imprint will remain in every cell of my flesh, blood, brain, and bones. Where will it all lead?"
As I was now realizing, the most exalted stage of a ketamine excursion comes just prior to re-emergence into the world of ordinary realities. This is also the most frustrating phase because with the closing of the gates leading back to the world of the senses it becomes evident that only a minuscule portion of the experience can be remembered, much less conveyed to others. At the same time, however, a fresh flow of emotion can be released. To feel this closeness to Howard, who was now sitting beside me holding my hand was surely the epitome of all joy. That shining love-moment would have to pass, yet I knew that in days to come some of this lightness of spirit would carry over. Moreover, I felt distinctly rejuvenated. Had we serendipitously stumbled on a pharmacological fountain of youth? Well, time would tell.
Only one small dissonant note crept into the experience and even this was fortunate inasmuch as it conveyed an important lesson. At one point when I was almost back Howard, assuming that all was well, went downstairs for a few minutes. Opening my eyes and not seeing him I felt devastated, even knowing where he was and that he would soon return. On the basis of all my personal knowledge of the effects of ketamine I strongly believe that at least for the first few sessions the subject should never be left alone until normal consciousness has been thoroughly well established. Physically he may be quite aware of where he is and able to speak coherently about whatever has transpired. Psychologically, however, there is almost certain to be a need for some intimate personal communication with a sympathetic, supportive and genuinely concerned human being who has been through the same experience.
Howard, being the good physician that he is, wished to be certain that I was quite recovered before trying the substance himself. However, I insisted that he make the journey too, since I wanted him to sense more directly what I was feeling. Hence, he injected himself with the same dose he had given me. Being a third again heavier he did not go as far "out" as I had gone. Also, being an exceedingly self-controlled person, the inevitable loss of personal volition came as a surprise. Until one becomes a seasoned voyager there can be a moment when it seems impossible to return from so great a distance. Nevertheless, he was as impressed as I had assumed he would be.
Mostly he lay back smiling and saying, "Wow, wow, wow… This is strong medicine. I mean this is really a powerful substance!"
Later, when I asked him to expound on the experience he gave me the following notes: