March 28: Something Very Odd, Two Strange Men, An Ambulance

Arthur and Ford have just been rescued from certain death . . .

They both sat on the pavement and watched with a certain unease as huge children bounced heavily along the sand and wild horses thundered through the sky taking fresh supplies of reinforced railings to the Uncertain Areas.

"You know," said Arthur with a slight cough, "if this is Southend, there's something very odd about it . . ."

Let me tell you how yesterday evening ended.  It was odd, to say the least.  After I finished my Dr. Pepper and berry-something schnapps, I went to bed.  It was around 7:30 in the evening, and I was exhausted from the events of the day.  Really exhausted.  Like asleep-as-soon-as-my-head-hit-the-pillow exhausted.

The next thing I remember is waking up on the living room couch, and two strange men in some kind of uniforms were leaning over me.  One person kept asking, "Can you tell me your name?"  The other person was pulling medical supplies out of what looked like a black tackle box.  My head was pounding, and I couldn't really speak coherently.  I could hear my wife's voice, but I couldn't see her.

It seems that all the stress of the day caused my blood sugar to dip while I was asleep.  A lot.  When my wife and son got home, they tried to get me to eat something.  I couldn't.  My wife called EMS.  By the time the ambulance got to my house, I was going into seizures.  The paramedics tried to take my blood sugar, it wouldn't register, which means that it was lower than 20.

They started an IV of glucose.  After 30 minutes or so, I was able to respond to questions.  Eat the peanut butter sandwich my son had made for me.  Tell the guys I didn't want to go to the hospital to be evaluated. 

It was a fantastic ending to a fantastic day. 

Because of that little diabetic episode last night, I have had a pounding headache for most of the day, and I've felt like I'm pushing through molasses.  As you can probably guess, I didn't have a great day again.  (There were other things that happened at work which contributed to the general shittyness, but I'd rather not get into those.)

I am ready for something good to happen now.  Good news.  Good morning.  Good bowl of oatmeal.  Good poem.  Good grief.  Good heavens.  Good golly, Miss Molly. 

Saint Marty is going to eat something before he goes to bed tonight.  Just in case.