5 Things I Learned In a Travel Emergency

Recently, I had the surprising and very scary need to call 911 while staying at the Swissotel in Chicago on a business trip. On the fifth and final morning of my trip, things got really weird when I awoke for my 5 am trip to the gym.  Feeling odd, I headed to my bathroom. Without further warning, my bathroom and everything else started spinning.  Or maybe I was spinning.  Unstable and unsure of my condition, I slid to the floor and sat, propped against a wall between the shower and toilet.  Gaining determination after nearly an hour in this position, I dragged myself – face down – to the base of the nightstand and reached for my mobile phone.

“We’re going to break down the door,” someone yelled.  “OK!,” I yelled back.  They didn’t.

Here are five things I learned in the next 40 minutes:

1. Using SIRI for a 911 Call Works – In Downtown Chicago.  Normally, I am not a SIRI user.  But she came through that morning.  I couldn’t focus my eyes, but I was able to reach up for the phone, pulled it to the floor, hold the home button, and ask SIRI to dial 911.  YES, it worked.  “Chicago 911,” the female voice said.  “What’s your emergency?”  I explained, then a bit of semi-panicked discussion ensued since I knew the name and general location of the hotel, but not the street address.  Fortunately, I remembered my room number. That combination proved enough to get the ambulance dispatched.  Thank you SIRI and all responsible for developing voice recognition.
2. Say “OK” to Breaking Down the Door.  I rarely use the manual security latch on hotel doors, but I had done so on my return to the hotel the previous night.  When emergency crews arrived, I heard them at the door, unable to get in.  “Sir, you have to unlock the door,” they yelled. “I can’t get there,” I yelled back.  After what seemed an eternity, someone yelled, “We’re going to break down the door.”  “OK,” I yelled back.  They didn’t.  Hotel security arrived in time, opened the door with a key, then applied a special security technique to force the door open. (I won’t share the details, but once you see it done, you realize how worthless the latch is.)
3. You Have to Put on Your Boxers to Ride in the Ambulance. To this point, I’ve left out some critical details. When I awoke at about 5 am and sat up in my bed, I felt slightly dizzy. Since I had an early day, I undressed and headed toward the shower.  I never made it, as a full-force case of vertigo set in.  I ended up on the floor in the bathroom, totally naked. When the paramedics entered the room, only my location had changed. One of the paramedics found my clothes, and instructed, “Sir, you have to put on your boxers.”  He added, “We all have OUR boxers on.” Once that was accomplished, they wrapped me in a hotel bath robe and rolled me to the elevator, through the lobby, and into the ambulance.
4. EMTs Prefer Sirens to Humming.  I held my eyes shut tightly to minimize the spinning feeling.  After a few minutes, I also found that humming to myself helped to calm me.  So I hummed.  Sort of like a meditation, “Hmmmmmmmmm.” While I found it soothing, apparently paramedics find this disconcerting.  Or maybe they just prefer the sounds of sirens.  Regardless, I was instructed – firmly – to stop.
5. Emergency Rooms Are Really Scary.  Honestly, I knew this from previous emergency experiences for myself and my family. But this was the first time I had arrived by ambulance, alone, away from home, wearing only boxers and a bathrobe. Because of my disorientation and other symptoms, the emergency doctor informed me that I was going to go through a stroke and heart attack protocol. He warned: “There will be lots of people around and we’ll be doing quite a few procedures.” Suffice it to say that he was a master of understatement.  What no one told me was WHERE I had been taken.  And because of my disorientation, I failed to ask.  About three hours later, when I was finally finished with testing and emergency procedures, I asked a nurse. “You’ve been admitted to Northwestern Hospital in Chicago.”

On discharge, the doctors advised that I shouldn’t travel by air.  So my wife, son and I drove the 700-mile journey from Chicago back to our home in Georgia over two days, always able to stop if my condition reoccurred. We had to cancel an Alaskan cruise which was scheduled less than 10 days later.

“Sir, you have to put on your boxers,” one of the paramedics ordered.  “We all have OUR boxers on.”

Over the next few weeks, I was able to return to mostly-normal activities. We did have to cancel an Alaskan cruise because I was unable to return to air travel quickly.  After 8 weeks, there were still some movements and positions that started the world spinning again, including a small water slide I tried on a long-weekend get-away.

Now, just over 3 months hence, I’m back to near-normal, though I haven’t worked up the courage to pull out the Six Flags season passes and try any motion rides.  Nor have I been able to return to long-distance bicycle riding, though I plan to do so in time to accomplish my annual “Ride-my-age-on-my-birthday” outing.  Look for future posts for updates on those adventures.