On an early Monday morning I suddenly found myself about to die a horrible death and staggering to get to my cell phone. It was quite dramatic and worthy of an Oscar I assure you. The 911 operator was wonderful. She kept calm while having to listen to me retch my internal organs out.
911: This is 911, What’s your emergency?
Me: I’m Dying, Send Ambulance please.
911: How are you dying sir?
911: What is your address sir?
Me: 3245 BLAARRRFFFFF
911: I’m sorry can you repeat that?
Me: Sure! 324 RAAALLLLLLLPH…
She was very nice and kept calling me sweetie and honey, telling me I’d be ok. Hearing those words are very comforting when your about to be pining for the fjords.
The paramedics came quickly. The room kept spinning and I assumed I would be entering Munchkinland soon. When they got me into the back of the ambulance, some acid death metal rock was playing on the radio. I was pretty sure I saw Jesus standing in the corner, head banging while singing “Paradise City”
I would have asked them to turn it off but I thought it best not to antagonize people trying to save my life.
They got me to the hospital where they furiously ignored me and went back to doing their paperwork.
I found out I was merely dehydrated. That did not make sense to me since I had just finished a large glass of water but I said “Ok, sure”.
They discharged me and said I had to vacate immediately because they needed the bed. I realized at that moment that I did not have my cell phone. All my numbers are in that phone. I had not memorized a single one of them. I relayed this information to the discharge nurse and she looked at me with all the compassion a lion has for freshly killed prey. I also did not have shoes or socks and was wearing a vomit stained T-Shirt. The nurse offered me a bus pass. I thought that was very nice of her and I would fit in nicely with all the other shoeless passengers that smelled like vomit.
In the end, My sister left work to come get me. She made me ride in the trunk.
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