I am writing this from my hospital room. Not a place I had expected to be. After feeling punker and punker, and weaker and weaker, and more nauseous and more nauseous; I threw up a lot more blood than I would have guessed I had. I think that Michele had all ready called 911 before I told her I didn't feel good.1
The Woodside Fire Department was there in what seemed like 30 seconds and they called for additional paramedics who were there even faster. Our tax dollars at work.
Here it is 36 hours later and I have had four blood transfusions and have started to walk the halls with the aid of a walker. No longer worried about dying – at least in the foreseeable future.
1. As I was deteriorating – earlier – and Michele had kept asking me how I felt and I would say Not so good, or I don't feel very good. Finally, Michele said, Here is the deal, If you say you really don't feel good, we are going to emergency. So I kept hedging.