Death Might Be Annoying... But Not Much Else

Saturday started completely normally for me.

I got up, messed about, showered, put on my clothes, and headed out the door, and grabbed a bike from the Capital Bikeshare stand near my apartment to head for Union Station.

I had just turned the bend and had Columbus Circle in sight when black patches started appearing in front of me and my vision started to fade. Everything was spinning and it was getting harder and harder to hear so I slowed the bike trying to halt completely before I crashed to the ground and split open my head.

A woman walking past me saw me begin to fall and I whispered to her "Call 911."

She said "Why?" and kept walking.

I kept thinking to myself "I'm going to kick this woman. I'm not going to die until I kick this stupid woman." but my legs refused to obey me.

There was a man coming up the street behind me with his kid, maybe one or two years old at the very most.

I was half on and half off the bike at this point and couldn't see, hear, or feel anything besides my heart pounding, nausea, and being so, so very cold.

It was the strangest thing.

I kept waiting for it to get better.

I kept thinking to myself that if I just stood still long enough, everything would be alright.

I kept waiting and it kept getting worse until I realised that it wasn't going to get better. There was likely no coming back from this.

Everyone always imagines death attended by panic. The realisation that you're going to die, the horror, the fear, the sheer panic.

All I could feel while dying, was annoyed.

I suppose mentally I was afraid, but I was simple incapable of feeling fear. It just wouldn't come.

Upon realising that I was dying on the street outside Union Station, all I could think was:

This is inconvenient.

I'm going to miss Scandal.

I haven't shipped out my portrait orders. They will think I scammed them!

Thank God I did laundry and loaded the dishwasher before I left the house. At least they won't think I'm dirty.

Shit, I left my panties on the floor.

I need to call Mom.

How am I going to give Mom the keys to my flat?

I want to say hi to you.

Apparently, I collapsed on top of the man and his son and he called 911. All I remember was waking up inside the ambulance surrounded by EMTs. I guess they might have used something like an ems software system. I mean, the way they treated me prehospitally was so good that by the time I arrived at the hospital I was feeling pretty good.

After an EKG and a battery of tests, the doctor side-eyed me and announced I was malnourished and had almost caused my heart to fail.

He then directed the nurses to stuff me with food, and put me on some sort of vitamin drip.

Doctor just left. It isn't my heart, but it was my heart. This is what he prescribed. Apparently, I'm malnourished pic.twitter.com/VjJSAphaw1

- Sugabelly (@sugabelly) September 27, 2014

Now that I think about it, it was scary as fuck.

If that man hadn't been there, no one would have seen me go down.

So thank you fat man with the cute little boy.

Annoying woman, I would still like to kick you.