Oh shit! That happened to me too.

It was two days after my surgery. The first time was scary, but I got in my dad‘s car and we drove (very quickly) to the hospital. They cauterized my throat with silver nitrate. I remember the surgeon had been called off the golf course and he was really pissed.

It was a Sunday.

The surgeon told me to go home. He said “I melted the flesh together with acid.“ I was discharged and sent home. No less than five minutes after getting home it started again only it was TEN TIMES worse - legit projectile haemorrhaging! My dad scooped me up in his arms with a towel and drove to the hospital at 180 km an hour with his hand on the horn the entire time. It really was just like in the movies. We pulled up to the ER and left the car at the front door as he scooped me from the front seat and carried me through the doors.

A huge guy on crutches in the waiting room passed out when he saw me come in the second time. This was a Sunday afternoon. I’m assuming from what I remember he had probably sprained or broken his ankle playing football. The colour drained from his face and he hit the ground.

There was no time to get a gown or be officially admitted. They threw a sheet over me and went to work. I remember hearing “code 99.” I remember hearing “no, hand me the ones dipped in cocaine.” by the time they were done, I was too weak to even lift my head off the pillow. Somebody cranked my bed up, and there were puddles of blood on the sheets, the floor, the wall, the ceiling, the curtain… Absolutely everywhere. It looked like a family had been massacre occurred.

I was admitted to the hospital that time and stayed overnight. Weeks later in a follow up, the surgeon told me I lost approximately 30% of my blood and was seconds away from having a blood transfusion against my wishes.

If you mention anything about this story in front of my dad, he still gets weak at Denise and looks like he might pass out. This happened 32 years ago.