New York and Back in 75 Hours

This last week, spring break might I add, the girlfriend (Kristin) and I drove out to New York from Chicago to visit some friends and to go through her interview at Bard College in Red Hook, NY.  We decided we’d drive through the night, which ended up being just fine on the way out there, as who wants to see Indiana, Ohio, or Pennsylvania anyway?  We made it into Brooklyn and were well knackered so, after a brief nap, we ate some Burmese food with a few pals somewhere near NYU.  After that we rummaged around in a place called McSorley’s, where the one waiter (more like a grizzly cave man) slammed continuous house brewed pints on the table for us to jammer.   We had our fill and slept hard.

Not really caring to trek around NY for half a day we drove up to stay at a Bed & Breakfast, hoping to relax and get some sleep.  Being sushi heads, we ventured off to Rhinebeck, a charming town south of Red Hook.  After what seemed to be a splendid meal Kristin fell right asleep and I, being restless, wandered about town.  This was until the symptoms started.  I began to sneeze uncontrollably.  My nose started running, my throat closed up, and my breathing waned.  After a bout of excessive and uncomfortable vomiting I woke Kristin up and had her drive me to the ER.  When the nurse questioned me I was delirious.  She asked what happened and I thought she had asked how I got to New York.  Shortly thereafter I was strapped in a bed with an IV of saline and many random tubes and beeps about me.

I couldn’t stop trembling.  I was in shock.  For a moment I gasped and jolted and for what seemed to be an hour could not stop shaking, this perhaps the most helpless I have ever felt in my life.  I guess some allergies find themselves out over time.  That or I am not supposed to live in NY.  After some tests and two episodes of Frasier (which I listened to half-conscious) that the doctor put on I left, bumbled with steroids, and returned to the hotel.  The next morning I was rudely awakened by the host of the B & B, yelling at me to get out so that the room could be cleaned.  Kristin returned a bit later and we drove straight through the night again, back to Chicago.  Around NE Ohio a raucous thunderstorm bit and emboldened the air like damaged carp scales.  As I passed trucks in the left lane everything was invisible and we ran on the possibility that more road was clear and ahead.  Now I am back in the Chi with a week’s worth of steroids, wondering why the hell I had to eat so much calamari.


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