So, you have read about the nights that lead to what follows, so let me fill you in.
I was woken by H and MJ at 11am Sunday morning and dragged off to do laundry. I felt okay but I was definitely still drunk. I ate lunch with S and J at a little burger bar down 9th Ave and really felt pretty fine. So fine in fact that I joined H, MJ and S on a trip up to Central Park.
As we got off the subway and started walking through the crowded 5th Ave I began to feel a little funny, I sucked it up and carried on my way, not wanting to have to go back. As we neared Central Park I had another odd feeling in my stomach and across my body. I again ignored it and moved on.
We made it a little way into the park and all of a sudden I came over all dizzy and had to grab onto S and sit down. I knew I had to get out of the park and into a cab fast but we were already quite a way into the park. I walked as quickly as I could, feeling truely awful, back to 5th and managed to get a cab. S came back with me to make sure I was alright. The traffic was horrendous and we requested to go down 9th Ave which was just as bad due to the Gay Pride Parade on 5th.
In the cab I couldn't breath, I put my head forward and cringed as my whole body started to get pins and needles. I had no control. My heart was racing and I was panicking. In the end we left the cab and had to walk almost 20 blogs back to the hotel. My hands were spasming out of my control and I kept feeling dizzy. We finally made it to the hotel to my relief and I went to lie down. As I lay there I remembered a story of a bar tender from New Castle who would drink excessively every day and went to Ibiza, caught a virus and as his liver was so damaged could not sort himself out and almost died. His quote was "I best cut back on the drinking then." This story ran through my head as I lay there, I actually thought I might have been dying. I wasn't...I was just incredibly hungover.
I decided I was not going to drink for a week...I went out again on Tuesday, Thursday, Friday Saturday...