The day I nearly

It was a long night, popped my tenth – 2 halves, white, within the space of an hour.

We’d go walking then, on the top of O’Connell Street, on the the patches of green, and the morning traffic passing by.

Lolling like lolly pops on the grass, giggling and gurgling.

Suddenly, there was a seriousness inside me. I saw everything clearly, like a flash of clarity in an otherwise hazy mind.

I stood up, looked up the road, wondering why I could see everything so sharply.

Then came the pain, it was like a bolt, an electric shock down the left side of my brain, through my body. I buckled, like a fist had hit me in the chest.

I came up for air, shocked, tried to ignore it. It happened again, more intense than the first time, I went down on my knees.

My head started to swirl, my body rolled, I sat down on the steps of an old Georgian house.

I looked at my friend who was oblivious to my predicament, I didn’t want to tell him. I said “I don’t feel so well, let’s go back to the house.”

I felt the pain in my chest, barely able to walk. A sense of outright panic under the surface, a contorted smile on my face.

We walked to the house, I couldn’t go any further. I sat on the step and gasped for air, electric convulsions going through my body.

“Let’s go home” – I sat and waited for a taxi to come and the rest of my friends to come out. They were laughing and gurning like lunatics. “Are you alright? You look a bit pale…” and me, “I’m fine.”

I got into the taxi, laid my head back, got another convulsing pain in my chest, buckled forward, breath knocked from my lungs.

As if by divine intervention, I saw the sign of an A&E to St. Vincent’s, I meekly said to the taxi driver “please drop me at the hospital, I don’t feel well”

I climbed out of the taxi, friends with concerned glances at each other. I managed to walk to the A&E door, having lost the abilty to talk, I just stood there, a nurse looked over at me. I beckoned, then collapsed on the floor.

The next thing I know is I’m being carried by doctors to a hospital bed, clothes stripped off. White stickers on my chest and belly, ECG machine, bleep, bleep, bleep.

“What did you take?” – Answer.

“Is it serious” – yes

Curling up my knees, warmth of bed and resignation. There’s nothing I can do now, just close my eyes. Slap on my face, a rough voice, “wake up!”

“You can’t sleep, you may lose consciousness, you have to stay awake”

My eyes were heavy, I felt hot and warm, and cold and so, so, tired.

Panic gives way to exhaustion.

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