So, you've had 2 martinis and a Capt Morgan and Coke. A third martini is in your hands. You've got amazing friends and you're talking about shiny, shiny 70s sports cars with Strider, and why he hasn't finished rebuilding the particularly awesome specimen in front of you.
... and suddenly, you dont' feel so well.
Like, really not well.
Like maybe you're going to throw up and die.
You run outside of the shop and hit the gravel, and everything goes blank.
The next thing you vaguely remember, Strider and Sansa are trying to pour some water into you because nothing at all has come out of your stomach- not even the alcohol- while you keep dry heaving.
PartyBoy has you and he's lifting you... somewhere.
Trouble's voice. Come on, Summer, you have to /breathe/. Except it hurts and you're tired and you can't stop choking.
"Someone get her inhaler. Summer, wake up." Sansa has you. PartyBoy's holding you on your side. Strider is consulting Trouble on how to work the cell phones... Sansa's shoving an inhaler in your mouth... Puffs... lots of them...
Your mom is there. Her face is grim and she orders you to the car. Strider and Sansa lift you but your legs aren't working and you can't stop shaking... Someone lifts you again. PartyBoy? Strider? Someone.
Sansa climbs in the backseat and keeps a hand on your shoulder, while explaining the night to mom.
The Emergency Room. Bright lights. Cant' stop throwing up nothing.
Bed. Doctor. Still can't stop throwing up nothing. Doctor isn't listening. He decides you have just had "too much to drink." Sansa keeps explaining and he keeps not listening. Sansa has a look of pure murder on her usually sweet face. You wonder out loud if you're imagining all of this. Sadly, you are told, you are not. You are not crazy, you are sick and this is not the alcohol. Doctor is just not listening.
Still throwing up nothing. Doctor informs you that hey, your blood oxygen is at almost somewhere around 100% so you must be fine. You realize the doctor is Persian. Possibly this explains why he is not paying any attention to what you're saying.. or he's just being stupid.
Hour later. Still throwing up nothing. But now there's an occasional five minutes of not throwing up. Chills start.
Nurse comes in with pills for the nausea. Mother points out that hey, see how her face is bright red and her hands and her feet and they're looking... rash-like? Yeah, that is NOT NORMAL. Doctor returns. Glances at your feet. "Huh, that does look odd. Sure, we'll get something for that."
Now throwing up pills.
Nurse returns with Benadryll shot. Claims "It should help with the nausea too." ... Injection goes in. The water just ingested comes up.
Mom marches back in and announces that we are leaving right now. This is useless.
Benadryll shot has had effect similar to elephant tranquilizers. Walking is tricky. Still, somehow, the car is found. Hey, hadn't they said you were just drunk? Should you have Benadryll if you're drunk? Something's not making sense...
Wake up a few hours later. World is spinning unpleasantly. Stomach feels like it has been attacked by sandpaper. Head in a fog. Nothing making sense. However, face, hands, feet and arms are no longer red and funny-looking.
48 hours later, dizziness still happening. Clearly this is all the work of that dastardly third martini.
So how was everyone else's weekend? Sigh.
...
Oh, and I later found out that when mom came marching back in from the hall, she was fuming because a lady had brought a girl in from Neighboring County Sheriff, and was requesting a rape kit... and the nurses were questioning the lady: "Do they have a sheriff? We should call them... I don't understand what they want. A rape kit? Do we do those? What should we do? How do you do this? Where is Neighboring County? What town is that?" And no, they weren't training these were actual nurses. Who should know. And should not need a former Children's Service worker to march up to them and explain a) Location and contents of Neighboring County and b) This is a rape kit. This is what you do. Now do it.
...
I hope that girl wasn't really in need of help, because clearly she was in the wrong place. We all were. Mom announced we were leaving because she could have done better at home than these lunatics and who the hell is running this place because they can't actually have a license can they?
So, in a nutshell, I am unbelievably lucky in my friends. They probably kept me out of serious trouble by thinking fast and taking really amazing care of me. They even went so far as to start figuring out what I was allergic to. By the time I woke up, Sansa and Trouble and S had already conferenced and gone over the ingredients in the mixes we'd had, the brands of alcohol and what we'd been in contact with.
It's amazing since the spectacularly unhelpful medical personnel couldn't be fussed to ask what I might have been allergic to... and wouldn't even have noticed I was having an allergic reaction if my mother hadn't pointed it out. Lucky for me, our family doctor from when I was little- and who was one of those old country doctors, had told her when I was a kid that if I was breaking out on my skin, it would be all of me -internal and external. He got proven right again.
As it turns out, I'm probably allergic to a certain additive in some martini mixes. Or cheap vodka. Or possibly pomegranates.
Anyway, I think I'll just stick to rum from now on.


Comments
And hey, rum is delicious!
Thank you- I'm feeling tons better, and I shall keep to Capt Morgan from now on. I know where I stand with him.
And really, who needs martinis when there are daiquiris and rum+cokes?
But relieved to hear you're doing okay. Man...you're such a great writer.
I was lucky that Sansa and Trouble thought of my inhaler. Even if it wasn't an asthma attack, it opened my airways and saved me from... whatever that was.
Thank you!! *hugs*
I'm glad to hear you're conscious now, at least, and that you're doing better. The hospital should be shut down -_-
... It's funny because just after I woke up the next morning there was one of the current ads about "Trust your local rural hospital! Quality care! Helpful people!" And I fell over laughing. Although, I guess you can trust them and they are helpful so long as the goal you are working toward is not 'continued life.'
I luff your icon!!
I'm sorry to hear about what happenned tho. Glad ur feeling better *hugs*
... Yeah, I took them all off ebay. Even Partyboy. lol
So are doctors in Ozland more reliable? I'm beginning to think based on medical issues alone perhaps its time to find a new hemisphere.
*big hug* I'm glad the people around you had some sense at least. Poor sissy. I'm so glad you're ok!
... We were pretty sure he had missed the point right then. Cause, um, we aren't a couple of teenagers. We're 24 and we can tell what is 'the effects of alcohol' from 'not the effects of alcohol.' We only brought up the alcohol in case he was going to treat me with something which might cause a problem.
We didn't realize he couldn't even tell I was having an allergic reaction and not an asthma attack. O.o
It's kind of possible that without the others I would have stopped breathing and not started again with all the choking and being totally out of it. I only know most of what happened because they told me. But no, clearly it was just that damned 3rd martini.
*hugs* I miss you.
when i told filip about this, as soon as i got to the part about your skin being reddish, he immediately piped up with the allergic reaction diagnosis. tell your brilliant medical staff that a bulgarian nurse outwitted them without even seeing the patient.
"you're not her?" gah, i will personally slap this man when i get there.
*hugs*