MIRACULOUSLY feeling a lot better when I wake up. Phew. I don’t feel much like eating but mange some fruit and overnight oats.
Then it’s straight to the studio to prep and pack the gear. All stuff that would have normally been done yesterday…along with a rehearsal of some songs at least.
There’s a bunch of other stuff to catch up on while Margaret finishes off some of the other packing then we hit the road to the airport.
We are good time and I pick a salad while Margaret has a more adventurous meal before we wait at the gate. I start to feel a bit ‘not right’ before we board but there’s no way I’m giving up now.
Come take off, though, I can’t hold it anymore and fill a number of spew bags…Margaret buzzes and attendant who brings more and moves us to the vacant back row on the plane. Things go from bad to worse and it’s a pretty traumatic two-and-a-half hours.
I was aware of an announcement from the flight deck asking if there’s a doctor on board. Turns out there is and the flight staff are amazing. I get checked over, an injection in my arse and an ambulance is arranged to meet us at the plane. Fuck sake.
I’ve lost it a bit when we land but seems fire and rescue got me off the plane where border patrol, police and medics met us before were transferred to an ambulance on the tarmac. I’m hooked up to various machines, given IV fentanyl and we’re sped off to the hospital.
The fentanyl didn’t seem to work much. But there’s no waiting around at the hospital. Transferred to a bed, drips, bloods, doctor all within (I think) half an hour. Margaret has our hand luggage – Finnair is taking care of the guitars and checked bags – and the staff organised a cab to take her to our hotel. I think it’s around 1am.
Shortly after the nurse comes back with more IV anti-nausea and gives me an injection of some kind of opioid – half an hour later I’ve drifted off.
