Seeing as things are about to get a lot busier I ticked off the last few tasks I planned to get done. Lawn mown? Tick. Gutter’s unblocked? Tick. Finally watched Community™? Tick.
So why does the house still seem dirty?
“The One With the Hospital Visit”
I’ve finally put all of last year’s photos on Facebook™.
Looking through those is a reminder of the time before lockdown. And before pregnancy! Monica is filing her photos too. It seems the older I get the more I get like her… constantly cleaning, getting obsessed with little things, craving the warm embrace of Matthew Perry. We’ll know I’m really in trouble if I start stealing from my sister.
I don’t see much point as she’s not super minted. We can’t all be raking it in like Ross on his Palaeontologist salary. Like a lot of us she’s not had a great time in lockdown. Going through the same thing every day. Like Groundhog Day. She’s moved between her place and my parents several times to try and cope with the loneliness.
My old mate Chandler Number Four has been back in the picture. Looks like they’re actually quite close now! Monica is trying to decide whether to hide a voicemail from Emily on her wedding night from Ross. And I’m in a similar position, wondering what’s best for my sibling, is he good for her? He was cool when I knew him, but people can change a lot in a decade. Should I try and protect her? When really it’s none of my business.
I’d be livid if someone hid something like that from me. I can’t side with Monica. If you think being with someone will make you happy you should go for it. And you have a right to make that decision. Ross and Emily always seemed good together. But we can’t see what goes on behind closed doors. And at the moment it’s all closed doors.
The Friends™ are wondering how they’d react in a war… Get out of our collective heads Friends™ writers! If I see one more meme about how everyone put up with the blitz “so you can put up with a mask” I’ll jump under the nearest subway train. Of course I’ll have to wear a mask to get there…
MMMhhhh Subway™… I’d kill for a Meatball Marinara. Joey’s a lucky bastard getting one of those. AND getting to go for a ride in a cop car. Phoebe’s cop boyfriend is definitely a maverick, taking the boys out on a stake out. Surely that’s not allowed?
If I wanted to go for a ride in a police car all I’d have to do is go to the shops without wearing a mask. (Or be black in America). Still, at least we can go to the pub again! I’m not going to, as all my friends live miles away and we’re about to have a baby. But it must be nice for single people who have no-one to talk to. Soon I’ll have a new person to talk to!! Even if they can only respond by crying and shitting themselves. Not too different to a night out at Uni.
Panic is in the air, Chandler’s a little unhappy about the ride and BANG. Oh phew. Just a car backfiring. Backfiring cars are weird. We’ve all heard them, but I’ve never seen one. What if they are just guns? Another person sick of lockdown. BANG. Every time I click my fingers. BANG.
Don’t forget to breathe.
Ross thinks this is a near death experience. Not only that, one caused by some greater power.
“My ex-wife rings on the same day I had a near death experience! What are the chances?”
You’d have to be an idiot to give some cosmic significance to that. It’s hardly blogging about Friends™ for five years, seeing more and more coincidences build up, watching the episode where Joey is in hospital with kidney stones whilst Phoebe gives birth, and a few months later ending up in hospital when your wife’s due to give birth. Now that would be crazy.
Anyway, on our due date we settled down to watch the last film on my “I really want to watch that” list. Incredibles 2™. Don’t judge me.
No, seriously. Don’t judge me.
Real Live Sitcom Moment:
Half way through the film I felt faint again. Just like when I gave plasma. I lay down on the floor for a bit, had some water and a bit of food. And, after a while, started feeling better. They had said this could happen in the week after, but we had dinner plans at my wife’s mums so decided to brave the journey.
We talked about our worries of something happening to me if I needed to drive her to the hospital, or worse, what if I wasn’t up to being her birthing partner? She’d never forgive me if I missed the birth of our first child.
I started to feel a bit out of it again so decided not to brave the motorway. We only made it a little farther when I began to feel like I did in the blood clinic. Slightly faint, a heaviness developing in my body. We were half way there by this point so my wife took over the drive. Surely it’ll pass and we can have a nice dinner? Don’t forget to breathe.
I cracked a window and focused on breathing. We got to her mums. I got out the car… and collapsed to the pavement. In broad daylight, passers-by checking in. (Whilst maintaining a two metre distance.)
Once we got inside I lay on the sofa and began to feel better again, but was struggling to concentrate on what anyone was saying. Is that a new symptom? Or just my default state after staying inside for 3 months?
Everything seemed fine really, a minor recurrence of last week as my body recovers, surely? But what about the numbness I felt in my hand during the week? Twice whilst playing my Nintendo Switch™ I’d felt a tingly/numb feeling in my hand. They said there was a slim chance of nerve damage too. We decided to call 111 so we could put this to bed. No need to ruin our evening plans. I must be fine!
I told them everything, expecting some reassurance.
“Based on the answers you’ve given to our questions, we advise you to attend A and E within the next hour.”
NEXT HOUR?! What’s wrong with me? I think someone said 111 thought I’d had a heart attack. My wife drove me to the hospital. And I kept getting worse. My whole chest felt heavy, arms and legs numb as I struggled to breathe. I became convinced my heart was leaking. Blood spilling out internally, slowly sapping the life out of me. If they didn’t treat me immediately I’d be a goner.
To be fair to them they did treat me immediately. It turns out collapsing at the check-in desk of A and E during a global pandemic is the best way to get whisked straight to the COVID-19 ward.
“No, NO. You fools, can’t you tell I’m bleeding?! It’s not COVID. I’ve ALREADY had that.”
They checked my bloods. A succession of doctor’s came in. “Breath like this”. Four in, hold, four out.
Then five minutes later “Why are you breathing like that?”
Your bloody colleague told me to!! Now do I have COVID or not?? I still haven’t got my anti-body results back from the blood trial. Maybe I didn’t have it the first time? Oh god. What if I catch it FROM HERE. This is the worst place I could be. What if they don’t let me in the labour ward now? What if my wife goes into labour NOW?!?
I will not miss the birth of my child. I will not miss the birth of my child. I WILL NOT MISS THE BIRTH OF MY CHILD.
They took my blood pressure, tested my blood. A masked doctor with the third prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen spoke to me and I cried uncontrollably about all the things I hadn’t realised had been bothering me for the last three months.
And that’s how I became possibly the only person to end up on the COVID ward without actually having it, and the first person to have a breakdown triggered by the Incredibles 2™.