The story of last Friday- aka, the night of me.

Last Friday night, I went to this club in Shoreditch. My two friends worked for a guy who was DJing or something, so we got in for free. Anyway, I drank before I got there, and had a few shots and a beer while I was there, but nothing too crazy. We all danced and basically just stared at all the interesting people who came in the club- it was pretty ridiculous.

And that’s about all I remember.

I woke up the next day (around 4pm), feeling like death, and went out into the common room. My two flatmates Jess and Amanda were there, and they asked me what I remembered from the night before. Tiny bits and pieces came back to me- standing outside the club, our friend Zach talking to me, Amanda yelling, one of those pinchy-things on my finger…

“Wait, where was I?” I asked, pretty much already knowing the answer. They went on to explain that around 3am last night Zach had come pounding on the door, waking everyone up. He told them that his flatmate Josh (who’d been at the club with us) had come home and casually mentioned that he had put me in an ambulance to “some hospital.” Everyone then searched the internet and called hospitals to find me, and then four of them (Zach, Amanda, Jess and Steve) piled into a cab to bring me home.

Apparently I refused to do anything other than sleep, so they had to force me to drink water. (Funnily enough, when I imagine this I think of the scene in Harry Potter & HBP when he and Dumbledore go and find the locket in the cave.) I guess I punched a few nurses who tried to help me. All I recall is people yelling at me. I wouldn’t let them put a drip in (and have bruises on my arms to prove it) so they couldn’t find out what all was in my system. Then they allowed my friends to take me in a cab back to our flat as I continued to fall asleep all the way.

What they do know, and I know for sure, is that there was more than alcohol in my system. I don’t just black out happenstance- it’s definitely a rarity (although I guess a little more often since coming to London), and I would have to consume A LOT. I know that I didn’t take any medicine that day (Nyquil or Dayquil will sometimes have that effect on me), and I can recall exactly what I drank. When I called my parents to tell them about it, I broke down- it was scary to think that I had no control over what had happened to me. From talking to a number of different friends, I heard that at least one person had seen me drink from something that wasn’t mine. I find that a little hard to believe, unless I had thought it was one of my friends’ drinks. But it makes sense- how else could drugs have been in my system?

I’m okay with never knowing exactly what caused this night and how it happened, because that’s not really what’s important. Being careful and AWARE of what’s going on around you are the best lesson to take away from this. I’m honestly not sure how it could have been prevented (other than me not drinking from another source, which I don’t recall doing), but had I been with people I really trust, I don’t think I would have ended up in the hospital.

I feel a little better having gotten that out- now I have to go tell it all over again to the stupid RD here. I bet he’s gonna lecture me about not drinking so much, which of course has no relevance to this. But whatever.


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