It was February and freezing in London. This was the end of our three-week European vacation. I was hunched over, sweating and sick, parked in a chair outside of an exclusive men’s shop at Heathrow Airport, while my husband Alex was off trying to find a place to make a telephone call to arrange for a limo to meet us in San Francisco when we arrived. The shape I was in, I kind of wished he was arranging for an air ambulance for the ride home. Hell, the way I was feeling, even a air hearse would have been acceptable to me. Yup! I was that sick.
This was at the end of the worst twelve-hour period I can remember experiencing. Alex and I went to dinner the previous evening at our hotel in London. By the time I got back to the room, food poisoning had set in and I barely made it to the bathroom before the horrid eruptions began. It was truly dreadful. After about twelve hours, I was still unable to leave the bathroom. I won’t go into details, (you’re welcome) but man! It was bad. By about 8:00 a.m., I told Alex that there was no way I could be ready to fly out at 2:00 p.m. as scheduled. We were both at a loss about what to do, but one thing was for certain, I could not get ready to leave in the state I was in.
I finally told Alex, get the hotel to send for a doctor to see me. I truly was beginning to think I was going to die. (Had I been in Paris, I might have said “Forget the doctor. Dying in Paris is something I can live with.”) Alex called down and the hotel concierge said she would get right on it. Within minutes, the phone rang and we were told that the doctor would be up to see me within the hour.
A very nice young Doctor showed up as promised. He said it looked like food poisoning and told me that I was very seriously dehydrated. He gave me three shots, (I still don’t know exactly what they were, except one was to hydrate me) and some pills, including pain medication because I could barely move from the pain caused from the severe dehydration. By the time the doctor left, a wonderful feeling of peace was overtaking me and I was falling asleep. The doctor also told my husband and me that I could not fly for at least 3 days. I nodded (and nodded off) as he was leaving.
