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Rosa's Ramblings

7th September, 2008. 5:00 pm. A warning to all my friends

I will preface this story by saying that I am fine.

On Friday night, I went out to a bar with my roommate, Dani. We went to one of my favorite places, the Frequency, first. Since Dani was driving, I felt comfortable drinking more than one cocktail. At about 11:45p, we decided to head out to the Inferno. I ordered a drink and settled in to have a fun night with my friends.

While I was across the bar saying hi to a couple of friends, someone (a friend that I know and trust) ordered me a shot. There was someone in my spot when I came back to the bar, and I patiently waited for him to finish ordering his drink. He turned around, introduced himself, and walked away. Used to this, I barely registered his name, although I thought it was odd that he didn't stay to chat. I took my shot, and sat back down to chat.

That is the last clear memory that I have until about 11a the next morning. I vaguely remember stumbling to the bathroom to throw up, and having to be practically carried out of the bar. According to Dani, I was acting very strangely (really quiet and listless) and I was almost entirely incapable of walking. My motor functions were seriously impaired, and throwing up didn't make me feel any better.

I went in to the emergency room on Saturday afternoon, because I was still feeling really dizzy and nauseous. The emergency room doctor confirmed that I had be "poisoned by an unspecified drug or medicinal substance". Yes, that is a direct quote from my discharge summary.

To make a rather confusing story short, someone at the Inferno slipped a drug, most likely flunitrazepam (also known as rohypnol), into my shot. Thanks to Dani, I made it home unharmed, and I am following the doctor's orders of flushing the drug out of my system. I am still not feeling 100%, but I am finally able to walk a straight line, which I wasn't able to do at 4p yesterday afternoon. Although I am still having problems concentrating on anything for more than 10 minutes (a real problem when I am trying to do homework), I am no longer experiencing time skips or memory lapses. I still don't remember anything from Friday night (12:45 - 6:30a), I am almost positive that I know who slipped the drugs into my drink. The owner of the Inferno, as well as the entire staff, have his description, and are keeping a close eye out for him.

So, it has been a really eventful weekend. One of my housemates left the door open and three of the cats escaped outside. We have retrieved two of them, but the little 2-year-old kitten is still on the loose. We haven't seen any sign of her since Saturday morning. We alerted all of our neighbors, put food and water out on the porch, and are taking regular walks around the neighborhood to see if she will come out of hiding. With not much more to do, we are patiently waiting. My best friend and roommate is slowly falling apart because her cat is missing, and the rest of the house is on pins and needles trying to keep her calm.

Missing cats aside, however, I would like to issue a warning to all of my friends, male and female. Be very careful when you go out drinking. Make sure you have someone with you that can take care of you if something goes wrong, and never leave your drink unattended. It is an absolutely terrifying experience to wake up not knowing where you are or how you got there. I was lucky enough to wind up on my living room floor, but not everyone has that. It is frightening to not know what you did or what you said, and to look back at an entire night and only see a blank slate. I have stayed in the house for most of the day because my sense of trust in the world has been seriously shaken. I thank the universe every minute that I had at least four people in that bar who knew what I am normally like, who recognized that my behavior was not normal. If I hadn't, something really bad could have happened, which just scares me even more.

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17th January, 2007. 1:48 pm. Grrrr.....

An update to the saga that is my war with the Karma gods. When I got home yesterday, I found blood all over my kitchen floor, my couch and the hall carpet. Less than thrilled, I checked all of the cats for wounds. Quincy was bleeding profusely from his front paw, and had blood matted in all of his paws. If you have ever had to hold a squirming cat while trying to simultaneously hold pressure on the pad of their paw, look up the number for a emergency vet in the phonebook and explain to your roommate the meaning of "liquid skin", I don't recommend it. Chris was wonderful, and got off work early to help me take Quince into the vet. 15 minutes, two wrong terms, and an obnoxious amount of squalling later, we finally got to the emergency vet hospital, where Quincy (who does not play well with others, especially vets and vet techs) leaves bloody footprints all over the table while purring like a fiend. *sigh* The vet takes a look at Quincey's paw and gives me a rather blunt prognosis. Best case scenario (which he believes is unlikely) is that Quincy jumped onto something on the counter and punctured his foot. Worst case scenario, and more likely give the small growth that the vet noticed on Quincy's paw, is a malignant tumor that will necessitate the loss of the toe at the very least. I left my cat with the vet overnight and went home to have a small breakdown.

Then I got drunk.

This morning, after peeling open my bleary eyes and reaching some semblance of alertness, I drove Chris to work and went to pick up the cat. The vet assured me that while Quincy did let people know when he was done playing by batting at them with his front (injured) paw, he was overall a sweetheart. The vet tech whisked into the back to retrieve my poor baby kitten. What followed was an altercation that could only have meant that the hounds of hell had been released in the back of the vet office. A slightly embarrassed vet tech reappeared to ask me to help them get Quince out of his cage, because (and I quote) "he is not in love with us right now." Scared, drugged, and in pain, Quincy was less than thrilled to be touched, especially given the annoying (and embarrasing) presence of a cone around his neck. He let me know about his anger by attacking me when I went to retrieve him. After putting on gloves, I snatched him up, stuffed him in his cat carrier, and returned home. Five minutes after I got in the car, Quincy was purring and rubbing against my hand. Perverse little brat.

I am now sitting at work taking inventory of my week. So far I have: a severely bruised thumb (which is feeling better, but still interferes with my ability to make buttons on clothing work), two nervous cats that weight at least 17 lbs each and are very interested in snuggling...with me, and a cone-headed cat that hates me right now. *sigh* What a week.

My solution? Go to the Inferno tonight, play wingman for a good friend, and get drunk. I can't wait for school to start.

Current mood: at life's little quirks.

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5th January, 2007. 1:42 pm. Heya

So, I finally decided to start keeping up on my journal. Yeah, that resolution will last an entire two weeks, and then school will start again, and I will be way behind...again.

Anyway, life is good, boring and relatively unproductive. I work...yup, that's about it right now. I work every day. I also knit. I'm working on an afghan for my 11-month old niece. I plan on finishing it sometime around her high school graduation. :)

That's about it for right now.

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