(Alternative title: Just Another Fine Example of How UN-cool I Really Am)
The last thing I remember was saying that I felt like I was going to pass out. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor with a woman standing over me telling people I had a seizure. I blinked several times and noticed that the left side of my face was soaking wet. My ears were ringing and I heard the woman ask me if I knew my name. I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on but I told her my name. Suddenly, I saw my friend, L., to the right of me.
“You passed out but you’re ok.”
“Why is my face wet?”
With a totally straight face L. responded, “Well sweetie, you fell into your wonton soup.”
Oh right. We’d been having Chinese food yesterday when I started feeling really light headed. I had actually woken up that morning feeling pretty rotten but I’m a good little solider for The Man and had gone to work anyway.
I glanced around to see that everyone in the restaurant was looking at me. While I usually enjoy attention, the fact that I was covered in wonton soup and lying on the floor of a restaurant made me wish everyone would kindly return to their meals and quit staring at me. The waitress walked over and asked how old I was. She had called 911 and they were sending the paramedics. A few minutes later an EMT walked in and asked how I was feeling. She was taking my pulse as I was saying a silent thanks in my head that it wasn’t some hottie EMT seeing me covered in soup. Evidently, I hadn’t suffered enough humiliation because right at that moment her partner, super-delicious EMT Aaron, walked in and started checking my vitals.
The paramedics decided it would be a good idea to take me to the hospital so I was treated to an ambulance ride. I cried when they told me that because I was certain something was really wrong. Why else would I have to go to the hospital? We got into the ambulance and Aaron asked me to push up my sleeve so he could take my blood pressure and start an IV. I started crying again because I really hate needles. Aaron tried calming me down by telling me that he hated needles too but I just cried more. He skipped the IV and just took my blood pressure. Next, he took my right hand and pricked my index finger to get my blood sugar. Not sure what was going on with my finger but it immediately bled through the piece of gauze he had put on my finger. He filled out paperwork on the way to the hospital and asked me a bunch of questions. When I told him my date of birth, he mentioned that we were both turning 30 this year. He said he and his buddies were going to Vegas to celebrate. Despite the fact that I had an oxygen tube running up my nose, I excitedly told him that my friends and I were doing the exact same thing for our 30th birthdays. He smiled at me and I could just totally tell that he was flirting. And just then he leaned over and…
…PULLED A SCALLION OUT OF MY HAIR!!!
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I had a scallion from my wonton soup hanging in my hair. So just so you all the have the visual, here’s what I looked like while trying to bust a move on Aaron:
1) Soaking wet on the left side of my face and upper body where I did a face plant into the soup.
2) Oxygen hose running into my nose.
3) Blood pressure cuff hanging from my arm.
4) Running mascara from crying my eyes out.
5) Bloody stump of a finger
I wish I was making this up but I swear, it’s all the horrible truth.
We got to the hospital and I was wheeled into Room 10 of the ER. My nurse, Chris, came in and told me to disrobe.
“Really?” I was thrilled at the idea of humiliation and nudity.
“Honey, you’re going on an EKG, having chest x-rays and having blood work. I can’t do all of that with that cute little sweater on you.”
She handed me a hospital gown and took my purse out of my hands. The EMTs stopped by to say goodbye and I waved to them as Chris began to put these little disks all over my chest and back. She hooked me up to some machine and I watched her as she watched the lines spike and dip on the screen.
Someone else came in to draw blood and I tried not to cry again. She took four vials of blood, started the IV and left. Seriously, was it necessary to take four vials?
The doctor came in next and it was like I was in a scene from Grey’s Anatomy – he was Dr. McDreamy. He asked what happened and I had to relay the entire, “I passed out in my soup” story. His response: No soup for you! Clearly, my doctor used to be a writer for Seinfeld.
A few minutes later I was sent in for chest x-rays. The doctor asked if I was the Soup Girl. I nodded and he laughed. He said that his tech had heard me telling the nurse what happened when they were wheeling me into the ER. We took the x-rays and he sent me back to my room.
My wonderful nurse, Chris, came back to check on me. She said she had heard from the doctor that I hadn’t been sleeping so she brought me two blankets that had been warmed up. She wrapped me up and told me to try to sleep while they ran all of the tests. I assured her I’d never fall asleep there with all of the noises but five minutes later I was out cold.
A few hours later, Dr. McDreamy came by to give me my test results. It turns out that lack of sleep coupled with lots of stress does not do good things for someone who is hypo-glycemic. I have now been instructed to look into a prescription sleep-aid and carry a candy bar in my purse at all times.
I was sent home with instructions to drink lots of fluids and get plenty of rest. As I was signing my discharge papers, EMT Aaron stuck his head in the door. He had just dropped off another patient and saw that I was still there. He asked how I was feeling.
“Humiliated and hungry.”
“Don’t feel humiliated. And if you’re hungry, I know this great Chinese restaurant. They make the best wonton soup.”
“No, I’m dead serious. We went back there after we dropped you off and had some lunch.”
“Well, what did you think?”
“The soup was so good, I almost passed out.”