In the winter of 2008, I went to Northampton, MA to visit a guy that I was very interested in. We will call him Kennedy, because he looked like one, although that is not why I liked him.
Five years earlier, I had been set up with him - we met at a wedding, at which I paired off with someone else, later realizing that Kennedy and I were much better suited. However, by the time I was set up with him in 2003, I was sort of interested in another guy we'll call JC, who lived in NYC and was in my group of friends. I'd had a crush on JC for months, and he was beginning to like me back. I know it's sounding like I had boys on board and boys on deck, but this was 10 years ago and I am awesome. But anyway, the 2003 setup with Kennedy was really just bad timing. We stayed at our mutual friends' house, who I will call Rob and Damia. Rob and Damia are like the funnest, most amazing people in the entire world. All three of Rob, Damia, and Kennedy have history in a capella groups, which means they can sing anything, any time, all of a sudden, and it sounds amazing. A living soundtrack. The best part of that particular weekend was hearing them sing "Our Lips Are Sealed" which I remember even now, 9.5 years later.
So, the first night, I slept on the same air mattress as Kennedy, and realized the whole thing was a mistake for two major reasons, the second of which was that I really wanted to see where things went with JC. I just hadn't really thought of that beforehand. I won't get into the first reason.
The next morning, I admitted to Damia and our friend Kelly, who I just realized was also there, that I really couldn't move forward with Kennedy, and that I was going to head back to NYC. Kelly (who lived in Boston) and Damia were like, "No no stay! We will figure something out tonight." Although maybe I'm remembering it wrong because Kelly went back to Boston that day. I was also moving in a week or two and was worried about packing. I do remember that Rob and Damia decided that if I stayed that night, they would come to NYC the following weekend and help me pack. Which they totally did and that was awesome.
So anyway, I stayed for the rest of the weekend. Saturday night we went out for dinner and had a great time. Damia and I fell asleep on a mattress in the living room, and I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like I needed to pee. But then after I peed I still felt like I had to pee, so that was disturbing. Damia woke up and I told her what was going on, and then my back started to hurt and I was like "My back is starting to hurt" and then it REALLY started to hurt and I figured it had to be my kidney, because it was only on one side and hurt very close to the surface, as in it hurt to the touch. This all happened within a few minutes. Damia asked if I wanted some Advil. Trying to stay calm, I told her it hurt too much for Advil. She asked if I needed to go to the emergency room. I said that I might. Trying to suss out whether I was a dope fiend, she asked if I went to the ER regularly. Recalling a recentish visit for cramps (I actually did used to go kind of regularly for cramps that were so bad I was throwing up, until I realized, voila, heating pad works fine), I hedged..."I mean, not regularly..." Damia admitted she wasn't entirely sure how to get to the hospital, as they had moved to that house fairly recently. I said I definitely needed to go to the ER. We got up, and I found my shoes and coat. As I bent over to put on my boots, a wave of nausea hit, and I went into the bathroom and threw up. Then I felt really weak and sort of decided to rest on the bathroom floor. I couldn't really yell out to Damia, because I felt pretty sure I was dying, and all my strength was going toward lying there on the bathroom floor. I guess Damia woke up Rob and Kennedy and told them we had to go to the ER. I assume all three of them were like, "WTF, we met this girl at a wedding and suddenly she needs to go to the ER, she has to be either a hypochondriac or dope fiend." I would prefer not to get into the details of whether or not I'm a hypochondriac, but this situation felt serious enough that I would admit to people I just met and completely adored that I needed medical attention (as opposed to a situation where I felt I needed regular attention and therefore complained so people would feel sorry for me - which I may or may not have done before in my life).
Anyway, after they discussed their concerns, Damia came to the bathroom door and said they were ready to go. As I lay dying, I realized that I definitely did not have enough life left in me to get in the car with them and drive all over Hampshire County (the Other Side of Massachusetts) to find the hospital of which they may or may not know the location. Plus, if I came to the ER in a car, I would probably have to sit in the waiting room and fill out forms, which was complete bullshit because I was definitely about to die. So I told Damia I needed an ambulance. This was met with the requisite pause and "...Are you serious?" but by now I was not even sure I would ever leave that bathroom floor, so an ambulance was called. They couldn't get a stretcher into the house though so I had to walk to the ambulance and that was kind of bullshit because I was in really horrible pain. Damia got in the front of the ambulance, and off we went. The entire time, I thought about her rendition of "Our Lips Are Sealed" and felt that hearing that song was the only possible thing that could prevent my imminent death. Once we reached the hospital, they wheeled my gurney past Damia, and I asked if she would sing it to me. She said no. I've never fully forgiven her for that.
Once I got into a room, a man walked in and asked me to rate my pain on a smiley face chart. I told him it was worse than the worst frown possible. I asked him if I was dying. He said definitely not. I asked what was wrong with me. He said no idea. I asked if he was the doctor. He laughed and said no. I told him to leave.
A nurse came in. An older lady. Her task was to insert an IV. She could not find a vein. Kudos to her for giving me a new blazing pain to distract me from my old aching pain. I asked her to leave.
Another nurse came in. A younger lady named Casey. She told me they needed a urine sample. I told her I'd give her a urine sample if she would insert an IV without blowing out the remainder of my veins. She said no problem, inserted an IV, I did my part, and finally I lay back and started receiving some relief. Damia sat down and we chatted. She went out to the waiting room to let Rob and Kennedy know what was going on, as they had followed us in the car. After awhile, the physician came in and introduced himself as Dr. Krogius. He was tall and young but not too young - a trustworthy age. He told me I would be fine, that kidney stones in women usually hurt on the way from the kidney to the bladder but would probably be crushed on the journey and I'd pass it in a day or so. I asked, "so wait, do I definitely have a kidney stone?" and he said that generally when there was blood in the urine, that meant a kidney stone and without doing imaging, they assumed that was the cause. "So wait, did I have blood in my urine?" "Oh, yeah, you had a ton of blood in your urine."
HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF from both Damia and me, because now everyone knew for sure I had a valid medical condition, and could take me seriously and stop thinking I was a dope fiend. Also, Casey came back in and asked if all was well, and endorsed Dr. Krogius as being awesome. But she called him by his first name, Tor. "Tore?" I asked her, making tearing motions. No, Tor, she said, with her fist in the air like the Black Panthers. I assume that was intended to like show his Viking strength or something. This made Damia and me laugh and laugh, and we made fun of everyone and everything and had an excellent time. Highly recommend Cooley Dickinson ER if you have the chance to try it out. And superlatively recommend Damia as an ER pal.
I started feeling better, but then started feeling like the pain was coming back. It probably wasn't, but you never know. So I told Tor, and he said he could get me something stronger. He asked how I did with narcotics. "Like cocaine???" Damia blurted. I glared at her, not wanting her to ruin my chances of getting something good. It was fine though, and Tor said he'd get me some morphine. That seemed extreme. But while I'm not a dope fiend, I'm also not one to turn down morphine for a condition that hours earlier had me dying on the bathroom floor. He or somebody else came in with a paramedic or EMT guy who was going to school to become something more important, and told me they were going to let that guy administer the morphine into my IV line. He wasn't exactly "cleared" to do things like that but they'd supervise him. I didn't want to be an asshole so I was like, fine. He sat down and plunged a hypodermic needle into the port on my IV line. Then they left.
Damia immediately dashed over to me. "What does it feel like?"
Me: "Nothing."
Damia: "You mean you feel like nothing?"
Me: "I mean I don't feel any differently."
Tor walked in: "How do you feel?"
Me: "I don't feel any different."
Tor: "Are you feeling pain?"
Me: "I don't feel like I'm in pain, but I don't feel like I'm on morphine, like when people on TV are on morphine."
Tor: "If you aren't in pain, then it's working." Walked out of the room.
Me: "I'm thinking this was a placebo."
Damia: You know, there is a kink in your IV line. Why don't I-"
Me: "DON'T TOUCH IT. We'll ask Casey."
Damia: "No really, maybe if I just-"
Me: "DON'T TOUCH IT."
Damia: "There, how's that? Better?"
Me: "Mor.....phine...."
Then they told me I could leave. Which was awkward, since the morphine had just hit.
Then Rob and Damia took me to Bruegger's Bagels. That was awesome. I think I stayed an extra day at their house and then went home. I have no idea when or how Kennedy left that day. We talked a few more times but then I really started dating JC, which lasted 6 weeks until he dumped me for a girl he had seen over Thanksgiving with whom he had gone to high school.
Fast forward to 4 years later. I went to visit Rob and Damia, and at this point Kennedy was living in a neighboring town, so he came over and hung out as well. After this visit, each of us told Rob and Damia that we could see ourselves hanging out with each other again. He came to NYC and took me out for dinner, and I had a great time and asked him to come to (OMG I just realized this) JC's house for a New Year's Eve party. By this time JC was dating my cousin because he's slutty that way. So Kennedy and I went to the party and had a great time. After that, we planned a weekend where I would go to Easthampton to visit him.
So I took the train to Hartford and he picked me up and we hung out all weekend and I had an amazing time and totally wanted to start dating him, full stop. VERY VERY VERY interested in him. Saturday afternoon, he took me to a movie and let me choose the movie.
I chose One Missed Call.
This was the American version, which was in theaters, starring Shannyn Sossamon. I had never seen the Japanese version on which this was based. But the American version was easily the worst thing either of us had seen. Terrible movie. Almost every scene was stupid. I remember there was an abandoned hospital. And I remember it was terrible.
We left the theater, and I totally took full blame for making him see that horrible crappy movie, and the whole way to Rob and Damia's, where we were going for dinner, I laughed at all the stupid things that had happened, and tried to make light of having made him take me to the worst movie in the history of ever. Kennedy dropped me off at Rob and Dame's- he worked at a boarding school and had to attend a certain number of basketball games each season, and this was a night he had to go to a game, so he went while I hung out with Damia and Caitlin, who was dating another friend of ours.
While he was gone, I seem to have acted out the entire movie for Caitlin and Damia, including commentary on what was exceedingly stupid and why. And we all drank wine and laughed and laughed. Funnily enough, that is one of my favorite memories of those girls. Right up there with the kidney stone experience as one of the most hilarious times ever. My favorite idea was to secretly download the One Missed Call ringtone (all of the bad calls happened with the same ringtone that none of the victims actually had on their phones) to Kennedy's phone so that when his phone rang we would both stare at it like "holy shit how did that happen!!?" but I was never alone with his phone, which was the first generation iPhone, and which totally would have been capable of downloading that ringtone. So that awesome idea never came to fruition.
Kennedy returned, much more sober than I was, and having had the past few hours to reflect on the fact that I would make him take me to such a piece of shit movie. He had not gotten to see me act it out, and was not that psyched about any of it.
The next day, Kennedy took me to the train station and basically never spoke to me again. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure he even had Damia tell me he didn't want to see me anymore. So that sucked.
Anyway, on Friday I watched the Japanese version of One Missed Call, I assume because I added it to my queue immediately after that weekend. It was dubbed, which annoys me. I think it was almost exactly like the American version, but the fact that it was foreign gained it one more star. So a total of two stars, or "Didn't Like It." HOWEVER, I did download the ringtone from the American version and now have it on my own phone, which makes me surprisingly happy.
For more on Hampshire County, MA, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS WEBSITE
For proof that Rob and Damia are good singers, THIS IS THE SITE FOR YOU
You'll probably want to skip the movie though. Not good.
Availability: DVD only
Released: 2004
Added to my queue: 2/11/2008
Reason added to my queue: to see if the Japanese version was as bad as the American version.
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