The Early Showings -- The Off To the Hospital Part

It was around eleven in the morning. The kids were at school. Patricia was at work and…

…Dare I say it…?

I had fallen. And I couldn’t get up.

And without one of those alarm things, too.

It’s not very funny when you’re inside of it. When you’re hot and uncomfortable, there’s a grabbing feeling inside your stomach and it won’t let go. Add to that the room spinning and not enough strength in your arms to push yourself to even a sitting position and there’s not only no one there to help you, but there won’t be anyone for hours.

I managed to turn myself around and crawl out of the bathroom enough to reach my cell phone[1], like someone suffering from poison gas in an old Republic serial. I called Patricia at her office and told her she needed to come home.

And then I noticed the blood[2].

I’m not going to tell you WHERE the blood was coming from. And there wasn’t a lot of it. But, as a general rule, when blood is coming from any part of my body that blood shouldn’t be coming from[3], I panic. I called Patricia back and told her that I was calling an ambulance.

It’s not easy to call the ambulance, beyond dialing 9-1-1. But there’s an emasculating feeling to doing it that you can really only do when you’re bleeding. It would have been better, in a way, if I were bleeding from a gunshot – but maybe not.

I managed to unlock the door and get to the couch while waiting. Some firemen showed up first[4] and they took my blood pressure and made sure I didn’t die before the paramedics showed up.

As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough to have to call the paramedics because you had blood coming from your ass, the next thing I heard was…

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard your name…”

And I look up[5].

It’s someone who used to work for me.

At least it was someone I liked.

So I had to suck it up and tell him my symptoms.

“At least it’s red blood,” he said. “When it’s black it can be a problem.

Well, that was good to know[6].

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[1] Which I put on a linen counter so it would be nearby if it rang and I was pooping. I do this because I’m in show business and sometimes cliché’s are cliché’s because they’re true.

[2] Please notice how I built up to this and then dropped it into the story. On the other hand, it wasn’t very fucking entertaining at the moment.

[3] And that’s about all of ‘em.

[4] Interestingly, one was one of the men who had been there the night Ruth died.

[5] Which was about all the energy I could muster.

[6] But if it’s black, can you even identify it as blood?

ENTIRE CONTENTS COPYRIGHT 2009 by Shaun McLaughlin