When I was walking to the hospital on Saturday morning, my brain was jumbled.  It was like someone had thrown a blanket over my head.  I remember muttering “I’ll be safe soon.  They’ll take care of me.”

And then there was the lovely couple from Ghent that I’d met on the bus to Düsseldorf on Friday.  We agreed to meet at 5:00 pm Saturday and go to dinner. 

I felt guilty as I walked.  If I was admitted to hospital, I wouldn’t be at our meeting spot and I didn’t have any contact information.  So I wouldn’t be keeping my word.  And who knows what they’d think of my absence?  I couldn’t corral in my mind that I was not at fault.

***

In Emergency I vomited twice more into my trusty Carrefour Express plastic bag.  It had been my companion all night.  The second time happened as I was talking to a doctor.  She asked me to put the bag in the garbage, and I said no.  I didn’t want to part with the stinky thing.  Minutes later, I changed my mind.  Such a strange experience, having a brain undone.

***

When I got to my room, I panicked.  The window was open and the temperature might have been 18 Celsius (64 Fahrenheit).  “It’s too cold!” I semi-yelled.  The shivering seemed uncontrollable.  And I actually had the thought that I was going to die in the cold. 

Two staff members helped me from the Emergency bed to my temporary home bed.  They pulled a white comforter up to my chin as I shivered away.

It was blessed relief.  “I’m okay.  I’m safe here.”  And I fell asleep.

I look back at this moment and remember how I used to suck my thumb as a kid, holding my teddy bear.  Teddy comforted me.  And I continued to suck my thumb with him till I was ten.

***

Early Saturday in bed was an astonishing experience of weakness.  I was lying on my back and couldn’t roll to my side, much less sit up.  The nurse asked me to unbutton my sleeve so she could take my blood pressure.  Nope.  Unscrewing the cap of a bottle of water was impossible.

Later I was sitting up, I looked over the foot of my bed to the table set up for eating and realized that I’d never get over there in my current state.  My little cardboard puke dish stayed ready for action.

Sunday the vomiting had stopped, along with the nausea.  Thank God for modern science.  And lots of sleep.  I’m very glad I chose the hospital on Saturday morning.

I look back now and get how fragile I was, how I needed help doing just about everything, how I let go into being cared for, how precious it was on Sunday when I could walk with my IV pole to my room’s bathroom.

***

It’s Monday.  I’m in isolation, with staff coming and going in their masks and gowns.  Although food poisoning is the likely cause of my woes, the doctor is looking at the possibility of some infectious condition.

In three hours or so, my doctor will come back with the verdict: either she’s sure it was food poisoning, and I can go back to the Airbnb today (and home on the bus tomorrow) … or I get to experience the hospitality of Evangelical Hospital awhile longer.

Thanks for listening to me, dear friends known and unknown.