«Do you want us to take you to the hospital?»

This post was originally posted on http://www.lavidaesta.wordpress.com, in August 2011, when I was living and working in Madrid. It is too good of a memory (and funny) to be forgotten, so now it’s back, here @ sjefenogjeg!

If you haven’t heard any stories about how Isabel and I make the best Special Kidz-crew ever, you’ll get a really good one now, but first I have to tell you the concept: we always get it our way – or at least we get treated in a better (?) or different way than the others, special treatment at the airport (who cares if I walked with crutches – we still got to ride the small fancy car), the only two who got to walk around alone in Madrid during the exchangeprogram in 2009 (doesn’t matter that we were older than the rest and had already seen the Congress), and there is more but last I’m gonna tell you that we also have awesome crew-sweaters. I’ll show you a picture one time, but now to the story;

Instead of going straight home yesterday I went to Madrid with a collegue and I felt fine, no dizziness – no nothing. After a while it was time for me to go home, I had a coca-cola and I got on the Metro, I started to feel a bit tired but that was it so I went to the trainstation and got on the train. Suddenly out of nowhere my sight started to play some mind-tricks on me (it was like I was dying and saw the light, I swear) and I started to sweat (and I must have looked like a corpse because I couldn’t feel my face – I guess I was really pale) and then I couldn’t hear anything else than a beeping sound, almost like being under water and all the normal sound seems so very far away (maybe I wasn’t going to heaven, but somewhere deeper down) and then I really felt like I had to throw up and figured I had to get off the train as soon as possible. Not the easiest thing I have ever done, walking straight is kinda hard when you can’t see or hear anything, and I had to ask for help (if this had happened in Norway everyone would’ve looked at me and thought I was a drug-addict and turned their back – I’m certain, so good thing I was in Spain). So there I was staggering away but a nice guy helped me off, got me to a bench and holy-moly it felt nice laying down getting some blood to my now totally drained head. So there I was, looking less and less like a corpse and more and more like a drunk teenager-prostitute, laying on a bench with my feet in the air – and here starts the really embarrassing part. The guy who helped me off the train went to see if someone could help me, so the guy who sells tickets came down to see how I was (at this time all I wanted was mom, water and being in my bed), but it didn’t stop there. This guy called security, and as I still was a huge tad confused I was more worried about laying still not throwing up than getting embarrased because the whole freakin’ station was paying attention to what happened. They asked me a whole lot of questions and some “huh?”s and “what?”s later I felt better and noticed that the angry, scary-looking man who always asks me to take my feet of the seat in front of me when I’m going home to Las Matas, was staring at me in a worried way, and at that very moment I knew that this was gonna be even more embarrassing. The other guy was the cutes of all the train-security people, he brought me some water and as I felt better (but still dizzy and with nausea) I realized “I can never date this guy, it will be way to awkward” – and as I thought scary-dude had something huge planned, so it got worse. My brain didn’t work properly (after seeing the light, almost going to hell, getting a tattoo and getting drained) so I’m still not sure how they got me to agree calling an ambulance, but so they did people, so they did. I was still laying down and couldn’t think straight, but they helped me up (I couldn’t walk straight either) and brought to the ambulance that were waiting for me outside. In we went and they checked my bloodpressure, my passport, if I were allergic, and all this stuff they have to know because I was not registered in the archives of hospitals in Spain (now I am though – until next time!). After a while of confusion I got more and more to my sences and I didn’t know if I should start laughing or crying, but the whole situation was getting really awkward, and when they asked me “do you want us to take you to the hospital?” I thought I was gonna shit my pants. I was not planning on going to any hospital, so I said thank you but no thanks and didn’t have a problem with drained pale head anymore because I was seriously turning into a tomatoe and would prefer less bloodstream to my brain. They made me sign a paper and gave me a copy (“You have voluntarily agreed not being taken to a hospital for further assistance”) and outside the security-people was still waiting for me (and now I could actually think clearly which made cute-security-guy cuter and myself more embarrased) and even though scary-dude is really scary they offered me a baguette, I ate and I went home to sleep. At least I’ve learned that they take care of you in Spain (maybe too much, fainting because of too little food and too much heat is pretty normal), but I’ll forever remember that day as the most embarrsing and awkward in my entire life, and I cross fingers, toes, arms and legs that I won’t meet the same security-people next time I go by train to Madrid (with my luck I probably will so good thing I know how to fake being asleep).

The moral is; eat enough food, never travel alone, drink enough water, don’t wear too much clothes when it’s warm outside, and don’t faint.


7 kommentarer om “«Do you want us to take you to the hospital?»

  1. Besøk er gull, jeg håper også han kan få fram den latteren! :) Og oppgaver skrives best når det er atten timer igjen til innlevering og kaffekanna begynner å bli tom…. :)


  2. Får håper du er som meg, og blir skikeklig efektiv siste kvelden, eller når det haster som mest!
    Jeg får sjelden startet ordentlig på ting før det er helt krise, men da går det som regel unna også:)


    1. Etter to bedøvelsessprøyter gjorde det fortsatt vondt og borre, så du kan jo si det sånn at jeg ikke gleder meg til jeg må tilbake igjen i slutten av mars.. Men nå kan jeg i det minste pusse tennene uten å føle at jeg dør!


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