Stop poking me with a stick! I am not dead yet!
Posted June 26, 2006
After a while a normal person will begin to wonder how many times you can cheat death. Thankfully I am not even close to be mistaken for normal. I nearly died this weekend or at least got as close as I would want to get. Was it one of my many extreme sports that trying to do me in? Nope, it was an overpriced meal. Now it was not the price of the meal, which of course should have given me a heart attack, it was the meal itself. Actually I am not sure what it was; all I know is that one moment I am fine the next I am lying lifeless on the subway floor.
My friend, who I have always said would be the death of me, wanted to take her old college friend out to eat in DC. So a group of us went to this Moroccan restaurant in south DC. We ate quite bit a food, which was very tasty, and drink some wine, which was alright, and watched some belly dancing, which was very good. Afterwards being remarkably poorer, we decided to go home. The walk back to the metro station was pleasant; my belly was full and head slightly blurred due to the wine. But as we approached the station platform, my stomach began to considerably hurt and my head was noticeably fogger. The train was still several minutes away so I move to the side and squatted next to pole to try to get my head to clear. This wasnt working and I was beginning to feel even worst. About this time the train arrived and my friends moved to get aboard. I got up and realized that was a mistake. I stumbled towards train and tried to say that I was feeling right. I say tried because I do not believe I actually managed to say anything before I went out.
The next part of the story I am telling second hand, because for all intensive purposes I was not there. Somehow I managed to stumble across the station floor and fall through the train door without actually hitting anything or anyone else. When my friends turned around they found me lying lifeless and the train floor with my feet hanging out the door. Now of course my friends had no clue what to do with me at that moment, however thankfully there was plenty of helpful good Samaritans around to give suggestions. This was to pull my feet onto the train so they could get going. Luckily they decided against this suggestion. They tried to wake me up, which I vaguely remember somebody calling my name. This got me to stir a little but then I went under again. At this point they pulled me off the train. Unfortunately I was not responding to calling of my name so they where out of ideas. So as my friend called 911 the rest stared at the lifeless lump on the floor that was their friend. Luckily at this point a 'real' good Samaritan came over to help. She is a school teacher who had been trained in first aid and CPR. She came over and checked my pulse and breathing. I had very weak slow pulse at this point but I was breathing. So she stayed and continued to monitor me for several minutes until I finally came to. Oh, if that really nice school teacher is reading this, thank you very very very very very much!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not sure if it would have happened anyway or if the passing out triggered it but then I threw up all over my self. This of course made for a lovely scene for the paramedics and police who showed up not moments later. The paramedics began to question me. My head had cleared up fast and I answered everything to best of knowledge, which was limited in regards to the last ten minutes or so. The paramedics asked if I needed to go the hospital, and of course being the hard headed stupid male I told them no I was fine. This said the man who had been passed out for the last several minutes with little to no heart beat, sitting in a puddle of his own bile, and pale as a ghost. The cop decided he needed to put his two cents in worth and said, "No No no! You are either going to the hospital or I am going to lock you up."
I realized instantly that he had a valid argument for this ultimatum. I looked over at the mess I had made and responded, "Yeah, I guess this does look pretty bad, doesnt it?" The cop agreed and I continued, "Well if those are my only two choices, then off to the hospital I go!" So began the second half of the story, but that will have to wait till later.
I smell death on you
Posted July 4, 2006
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me
~ Emily Dickinson
I am finding it rather difficult to write about what happened to me a couple weeks ago. Its not that this keeping me up late at night; actually I have been sleep quite well lately. I dont have trouble talking about what happened. I tend to actually talk it up as if I had cheated death. Maybe in the back of my mind I believe I have and the closer securitization of the incidence that this median requires makes me uncomfortable. I meant to write up the story rather quickly after I got out of the hospital. But I kept finding other things to do and avoiding having to relive that night. It took well over a week to write the first half; I thought well thats it I am over the shock, I should be able to write the second half now in a couple days. Then another week passes and still I have to nearly force myself to sit down here to write the rest of the story. I am not the kind of person who lets their life be defined by fears. There are several friends who would claim that I dont feel fear. I often ride too close to the edge just to feel alive. But as I lie on the ER bed and felt the life flow from my body I knew I was dieing. And through the fog of slipping in and out of conscious blurs of people would appear and disappear. I looked to the side, mainly because I didnt really have choice in the matter and I saw the ER doctor. I had not seen this doctor before, but I knew it was him. He was just standing there watching me. And I remember thinking or saying I cannot tell you which, please do not let me die. I had never been more scared in my life because I knew it was not my choice to make.
I am not sure why I blacked out again in the ER. By this time any effect of the wine had had dissipated. But thankfully that was the last time blacked out (so far) without any ill effects. After few hours everyone was feeling better that I would not drop out again, the staff nurse came in to see me, he told me that they were waiting on some blood work and trying to get me into a regular room, "But that may take awhile, why do you try to get some rest till then?"
"I nearly died three times tonight, I have a tube in one arm, all kinds of cable coming off all parts of my body, there is a defibrillator at my feet, and the smell of death all around me and you expect me to fall asleep!"
Sleep did not come easy that night, of course it did not help that every thirty minutes the blood pressure thingy would pump up. As just as I am about to fall asleep, the thing would go off and about squeeze off my arm. The next morning I am moved in a regular room. Its a single room with hard wood floor and a stone lined bathroom. Thank goodness I blacked out in the good part of town. Although I guess a few play toys are going to have to wait. I guess it could be worst. By seven when they released me I was scratching at the door to let me out.
