I have to think about it. This is Wednesday, so it had to be Monday night. I had a normal day at work, but when I got home I started to feel a bit uncomfortable, in a vague sort of way. Then it got more uncomfortable.
Son and I were watching a movie (Loopers – not bad either) and after getting up to get a drink of water, it got very uncomfortable. I told Son; “I don’t think I’ll be watching the rest of the movie.”
Then it was Armageddon. It came on so exponentially fast I didn’t realize that all I really had to do was puke. I remember saying something like “I think I’m dying” between moans, and then things went the way of the classic, closing down tunnel vision people talk about as a result of being under high Gs. The world went dark, and as I went under, in the sort of agony that brings thoughts of death being a sweet gift of relief, I don’t know if I said it but I remember thinking it, very deliberately, and it was sort of printed in bright letters over my endarkened vision;
I DON’T WANT TO GO OUT LIKE THIS
In upper case letters just like that. Now I think I know exactly what it’s like to die a very quick and agonizing death, ’cause essentially that’s what I did, only I woke up later, in a dream. My wife was slapping my face, trying to get my attention like you see in the movies (what else could she do?) but I was still dreaming. When I noticed wetness on the side of my face that was against the floor, and that my sinuses were packed full of liquid, I said dreamily, and to no one in particular “I think I vomited”.
Waking up in a pool of your own vomit, and with your sinuses full of vomit, is something we’ve all heard tell about, but I’d never done it before. Never even came close before. It wasn’t nearly as bad though, not by a long shot, as the going down part. But it wasn’t over.
Oh no. I’ll just say “both ends” and leave it at that (PV/PD). So my wife and kids sort of freaked out I suppose, and so did I. Phone calls were made and crews showed up, and well, right now I’m just fine and dandy. They say that a “single episode” like this is not uncommon, and not necessarily indicative of anything but some immediate GI distress. I got hauled in, poked, bled and prodded, EKG’d, x-rayed and whatnot, and everything is fine. They seemed surprised in fact, that my BP and heart rate, glucose level and everything was all so good. I guess a fart of my oldness is suppose to be more deteriorated.
When I told a nurse I was cold, she said my skin was warm (still in the process of getting over the bout). I told her that it made sense – that if your skin is hot, you’re losing more heat, and so you’ll feel cold. Your heat sense registers direction-of-flow (gain or loss) more than it registers temperature. I would have expected her to understand that, but it seemed a new concept to her. How many times have you hugged your spouse, and she says you feel cold, while you say she feels warm, or visa versa? That’s what’s going on there, and if you think about it from a survival point of view it makes sense.
And here’s a thing about negotiations. They (both my wife and the doctors)wanted very much to keep me at hospital overnight. They all said so several times, but I wanted to go home. I knew that I could have said simply, “No way. I’m going home and that’s that” and I was prepared to do it if needed, but but instead all I said was stuff like, “I’d rather not stay” and “I think I made a big compromise even coming here” and “all I really need is water and some sleep”. They took my wife out of the room to talk about it for a bit and then THEY decided I could go home, see.
Twenty four hours mostly sleeping and I’m a new man. I’d tap dance right now if I’d ever learned how. So remember, if you’re having problems and things seem to be going from bad to worse, well; cheer up– You’ll soon be dead.