The Night That Put Me In A Coma
A cautionary drinking tale. Plus, what I ate in Morocco.
November 13, 2000. Mom calls to me from the bathroom. Something catastrophic is happening inside her brain but she doesn’t know what. She tells me to call 911. I’m eight, I’m too afraid. She calls for herself and so they take forever to come. I watch mom get carried away in the ambulance. She would sleep in a coma for the next seven weeks.
So when I woke up in a Moroccan hospital last week, you can imagine my reaction to learning that I too, had been in a coma. The night started innocently enough with a giant plate of chocolate cake and a glass of champagne. I was in Taghazout Bay on the West Coast of Morocco, travelling with a wellness company, Fit4Travel. It was one of the women in the group’s birthday and we were celebrating with photos and live music by the pool. As the night started to wind down, one of the guys in our group convinced me to go out with him and the bartender. I’ve been trying to say yes more lately. Plus, when else would I have the chance to go out at …