The title is pretty self-explanatory. I spent most of today in the hospital. Not on the psych ward, thank goodness (I’m not sure I would have gotten out if they had put me there), but in observation. Now how did that happen?
My weekend started on Saturday. I went to visit Nr 7, we baked pancakes together, watched “300” (All those muscled males dripping with sweat and blood, hmm), had a very enticing session, and finally slept a bit. We left the next day at 5 am for the coast, spent most of Sunday on the nude beach of Sluis (the Netherlands), and in the evening we went to this fancy restaurant where I ate a delicious plate of roast Dover Sole with fries. We finished it off with Pisang Ambon and I got Nr 7 to drink a Harvey Wallbanger (he didn’t like it, sometimes I wonder if the man has any taste in liquor), and then we headed home. We were too tired to play so we just slept until the next morning, when we were all exited again and made good use of the morning erection.
So far, so good. Now, then comes the part where I was supposed to go home. So, we head to the station, and I feel I’m derealizing. Great. I also feel incredibly painful cramps in my stomach. This could mean only one thing; my period. No problem, I think, I just go to the toilet on the train and get myself in order. Fat chance. On the toilet I have a full breakdown, reality leaves me clueless once again, and by the time we reach our destination I am a hallucinating wreck, bent over because my uterus(?) is killing me. Hah. Now, somehow I manage to get out of the train, aided by Nr 7 (that poor man, what I put him through…), but then my memory abandons me. Apparently I was completely off, staring emptily, uttering nonsense, you know the story. They called an ambulance and carted me off to the hospital. Joy.
There I woke up with an IV and a head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton wool. At least they gave me painkillers so my abdomen no longer felt like someone was pounding it with a lead pipe. Apparently they gave me quite a lot, because I kept dozing off and everything was vague around the edges… I was so drugged up I didn’t even worry about being in the hospital or having a gap in my memory. After a whole day of being in observation, sleeping mostly, occasionally waking up for tests, I was released from the hospital and allowed to go home. Of course, with a whole list of extra medication. Joy, once again.
Anyway, if this sounds a bit odd to you, it’s because I’m still under the influence of whatever they gave me; I apologize beforehand. Or well, after-hand, given that this is the final paragraph.
Love and Chaos, QP