I had officially turned over a new leaf. And I felt really good about it.
I was done drinking, partying and all the sketchy stuff in between. The night before, I went to bed nice and early, and even skipped looking at any porn on my computer. Had few glasses of water and slept like a baby.
That morning, I got up early, and had a light breakfast with a glass of water. Things were going to turn around and I was making it happen. I put on some gym clothes and I was going to run the mile or so to the gym after a warm-up and some stretching.
I started my jumping jacks and felt odd for a second. I felt a bit dizzy, but I pushed forward into my push-ups. I did about 20 and stumbled to my feet, just barely.
The entire room was spinning and I couldn't walk. I fell on the couch and waited for the feeling to pass.
It didn't. And I got nervous.
I closed my eyes and walked from memory back to my bedroom. The apartment was so small, it was pretty easy. I opened my eyes and looked at the ceiling, once I was safely on my bed.
Nope, room was still spinning.
I fished my cellphone from my pocket and called my friend Tammy (a nurse and not her real name) because this wasn't a hangover and it wasn't anything I had felt before. She could hear the distress in my voice, but ever the professional, she said I was probably dehydrated. I thanked her and hung up.
Yeah. That's it. I'm dehydrated. I've never felt extremely dizzy like this before, but hey, I'm getting old and I want to believe in a simple explanation.
I stumble to the kitchen and pull a Gatorade from the fridge and chug it.
The room is still spinning and my head is starting to hurt.
I decide to go back to bed and sleep it off.
Off course, I'm not tired in the slightest and the room is still spinning. My vision is just pulling down and to the left over and over again as the panic sets in.
Then the stomach starts to rumble and I crawl to the bathroom.
I put my head on the toilet seat (I had just cleaned it, the night before. And yes, it sounds a little gross) as the cellphone rang back on my bed. I mumble a curse and crawl back to answer it.
My folks are calling to see how I'm doing after they went out for breakfast. I'm trying to tell them I'm fine as I crawl back into the bathroom and throw up all the Gatorade I just drank. It was blue if you were wondering. I tell them I will call them back and get off the phone.
Three minutes later, I throw up again, mostly water. I make it back to my bed and it starts to dawn on me that this is not like anything I've ever done to myself and it is not normal.
I lay still on my bed with my eyes closed for about five minutes before I decide I should probably call my wife at her job. It occurs to me that I probably freaked my folks out throwing up while on the phone.
I was reluctant, but I seemed to be getting worse, not better. I open my eyes and glance at my phone.
Since this whole debacle started, its been 15 minutes.
So I call my not quite ex-wife, Shauna (not her real name) at work, We have been separated for a couple of years, but we're adults and try to be civil like normal folks should.
I guess she hears the panic in my voice (I get colds, twice a year maybe and broke an arm when I was 12--so I don't really do hospitals) and agrees to come take me to the nearby hospital.
I lay on the floor of my bedroom until she calls and tells me my building door is locked. I knew this under normal circumstances, but I forgot this time. I manage to get on my feet and slowly walk to the building door to let her in with one eye closed and my hands out in front of me, slightly hunched over.
I gather myself and we leave to go to the hospital. She drops me off to go park and I stumble inside.
There's a line at the receptionist desk (of course) and I slump onto a bench. The security guard notices me and offers me a wheelchair which I get in and put my head in my heads and sit quietly.
Shauna comes in and we check in. After about five minutes they call me back.
I start giving them my info and that's the last thing I remember...
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