This post definitely wasn’t a planned part of the itinerary - but one worth mentioning none the less, if nothing but to praise the staff & paramedics at Queen of The Valley ER in Napa.
After having a great dinner at Hurleys, and sharing a bottle of red (and yes, just one bottle!) - we decided to make it an early night in an effort to shake off some of the tiredness from the long trip over there the day before. Tucked up and fast asleep by 8pm. The world was a good place and we were happy & grateful to be sleeping in such a beautiful city, surrounded by lush vineyards. I awoke at about 3am feeling incredibly out of sorts. Im an old hat at passing out, and sometimes like to throw in the occasional seizure (for no explained reason) - so i knew the feelings running through my body all too well. Thinking i could just breathe my way through it and avoid it getting to the extreme, i took myself off to the bathroom, and shut the door so that i wouldn’t wake mum.
Rookie mistake. Now, lets be honest - I’m not a big one to ask for help… but there are times in your life when you have to admit to needing it, and this was one of them. Had i have not had made to decision to open the door and mumble for mum that night - i most likely wouldn’t be here to type this today.
Within moment of her running into the bathroom… i was out cold. I couldn’t even tell you what happened next - but from mums description, and the doctors diagnosis, it was a ‘tonic seizure’. Basically, your entire body stiffens up, your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you’re left resembling something of that from the exorcist to anyone who has to be unfortunate enough to witness it. In my case… it was my mum. As i came in and out of consciousness, i really thought i was done for. I couldn’t breathe, i couldn’t move, and i was too exhausted to fight it. Then i could hear my mum on the phone to 911 in a panic. I called for her. At first because i was too scared to die alone, but then once i saw the terror in her face, i knew i couldn’t die at all. No parent should have to see their kid die before them. Let alone on the bathroom floor surrounded by their own waste (i get that isn’t pleasant, but when your body shuts down like that- its just the cold hard truth of what happens).
Within moments the paramedics were there, along with the fire brigade. Nothing short of incredible from the minute they arrived. Calming down both mum and I, without making too much of a scene to have all the other hotel guests out of their rooms and gawking (thankgod!). I was taken off in the ambulance while mum gathered some of my things and was left with a hand drawn map of how to find me at the hospital… I think her driving there by herself terrified my just as much. International driving still wasn’t her specialty just yet!
I have a vague memory of arriving to the ER - and the paramedics making jokes about how they’d hired it the whole place out just for my arrival, because at that time in the morning it was so very quiet and i think i may have been the only patient there. But their sense of humour kept me giggling in an otherwise terrifying situation. A few hours, some blood tests, and fluids through an IV drip later - i was beginning to feel more like myself. Exhausted, but alive none the less. The seizure remains an unexpected mystery - but its also a reminder of why i’d never let anyone leave the country without travel insurance. Accidents can hit an anytime, even to to the healthiest of people. So this blog entry - goes out as a special thanks to Covermore Travel Insurance, all the staff at Queen of The Valley Er, Dr Lopez, Shane the paramedic, and the nurse who was headed to Ireland for her next vacation (i can’t remember her name… but if she ever reads this she’ll know its her!). And of course - my mum. Because no matter how old you get, when you get sick- they’ll still be the first person you want by your side. xox
Souvenir postcard below… I’m aware i could use a spray tan and a blow dry for this shot - but lets be honest, sometime reality just isn’t pretty!
As an after note though… one of the first thoughts i had when i started to come too, was that i never had ’the good macaroon’. The ones from Bouchon that I’ve so fondly spoken about in my previous entry. I’d walked past them, drooled over them from the other side of the glass… but that stupidly listened to the little voice in my head worrying about it having too much sugar and not being any good for you. People- take it from me. Treat yourself to the good macaroon! Life is too short, and they are good for you in so many other ways… its nutrition for your soul! Needless to say, once i was well enough to leave the hospital - the first stop was Bouchon. And it was the best damn salted caramel macaroon of my life!
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