As we got in the ambulance, they threw me up in the back with no seat belt as the driver sped off. Every bump, every tiny little divot in the road instantly induced a shriek, causing everyone else in the car to cringe.

 

“Here is medicine, Nicole,” except in Macedonian, there is no “ih” sound, so it sounded more like Nikol (Nee-kole). She whipped out a needle the length of a #2 pencil, and I immediately began to freak out. I was shaking with fear, but through quivers asked her to tell me what medicine was inside of that syringe, as if when she said it I would know what it was.

 

About halfway into her trying to explain to me in English that it was some vitamin bullshit that would stop the pain, she was simultaneously shouting at the other nurse in panicked Macedonian that I had no energy to try to understand at the time, so to stop the nonsense I shouted, “JUST DO IT! GIVE IT TO ME!”

 

Dillon held my purse and let me squeeze his hand as she stuck this massive shot in my thigh, no gloves, no sanitizing the leg, just jabbing it right in, nice and raw. In all seriousness, I think we probably should’ve been more concerned about the lack of cleanliness and safety that was going on, seeing as I was laying with no seatbelt in the back of a speeding ambulance. God forbid we got in some altercation, I would be through the back window, guaranteed to not move my toes again.

 

They then attempted to put an IV in me, and with the lack of food and water in my body, I was feeling not only nauseous but hot, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of there. Dillon held my hand during this part too, and had the pleasure of seeing my salt water and mascara soaked face. I tried to remain the tough guy, but really I wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of my lungs, releasing as much as my body would allow to me to. It was over before I knew it, and I think three people sat there with water and tissues clearing my face of any remaining makeup I must’ve had on.