"I could tighten my headband for an extra rush during Jerry's guitar solo"
This is the story of the first time I ever passed out cold. It happened yesterday.
I took an extended lunch break from work so I could go to the dentist and get some fillings put in on the right side of the mouth; they had done my left side in November and it had gone smoothly.
I declined the laughing gas, because I remember what it did to Steve Martin in "Little Shop", plus I'm a big boy and I'm Tuff and I can take it, so the doctor swabbed me to prepare for the novocaine injection. I noticed that I felt a little numb just from the swabbing, but thought nothing of it.
The needle went in, and came out clean; it had not hit a blood vessel. The dentist left me in the chair for a few minutes to place his lunch order while the anesthesia took hold. It seemed to happen rapidly. I became aware of my tongue.
As he returned, I remember saying "I feel a little light-headed". Then I found myself recumbent with cold wet towels being applied to my neck and forehead. I had only been out for a second, they told me.
The dental work was called off and I was fed orange slices and water and gently guided back to the waiting room to recover. The staff insisted that I take a cab directly home, instead of trying to take the subway back to work. I agreed.
I had felt well recovered by then, but that changed once the taxi started moving. I started to feel very hot and somewhat nauseated. The windows fogged up so much I couldn't see out of them; was it my fever doing that? I tried to keep it together.
When we got on the BQE I lost it. The orange slices made a reappearance. I discovered that the floormats of a yellow cab are actually water-resistant, which was not true of my pants.
I gave the driver $40 for a $25 fare and apologized for the mess; he didn't seem as concerned as I thought he should be. 1 theory is that cabbies probably deal with vomiting passengers on a weekly basis, if not more often.
Then I cleaned myself up and emailed work and told them today had become a sick day for me, and lay down on the couch for the whole afternoon.
Lessons I learned:
You need to eat breakfast, dork.
Needles can make me woozy.
Plan to take the whole day off from work when a medical appointment is scheduled.
Taxi drivers love barf.
I took an extended lunch break from work so I could go to the dentist and get some fillings put in on the right side of the mouth; they had done my left side in November and it had gone smoothly.
I declined the laughing gas, because I remember what it did to Steve Martin in "Little Shop", plus I'm a big boy and I'm Tuff and I can take it, so the doctor swabbed me to prepare for the novocaine injection. I noticed that I felt a little numb just from the swabbing, but thought nothing of it.
The needle went in, and came out clean; it had not hit a blood vessel. The dentist left me in the chair for a few minutes to place his lunch order while the anesthesia took hold. It seemed to happen rapidly. I became aware of my tongue.
As he returned, I remember saying "I feel a little light-headed". Then I found myself recumbent with cold wet towels being applied to my neck and forehead. I had only been out for a second, they told me.
The dental work was called off and I was fed orange slices and water and gently guided back to the waiting room to recover. The staff insisted that I take a cab directly home, instead of trying to take the subway back to work. I agreed.
I had felt well recovered by then, but that changed once the taxi started moving. I started to feel very hot and somewhat nauseated. The windows fogged up so much I couldn't see out of them; was it my fever doing that? I tried to keep it together.
When we got on the BQE I lost it. The orange slices made a reappearance. I discovered that the floormats of a yellow cab are actually water-resistant, which was not true of my pants.
I gave the driver $40 for a $25 fare and apologized for the mess; he didn't seem as concerned as I thought he should be. 1 theory is that cabbies probably deal with vomiting passengers on a weekly basis, if not more often.
Then I cleaned myself up and emailed work and told them today had become a sick day for me, and lay down on the couch for the whole afternoon.
Lessons I learned: