Always wear clean underwear.

My aunt Joni invited me to the Titans/Colts game on Sunday. Now, I'm not particularly a football fan - okay, I'm not a fan at all - but if I'm gonna go to one game all season, it should be the Titans/Colts. Perfect weather, great seats, good game.

With two minutes left in the game, I told Aunt Joni I was going to stand in the shade because I wasn't feeling so great. I walked up a few steps to the concourse area and thought to myself how much better I felt because it was much cooler.

*POOF*

I passed out standing up. Next thing I know, I'm staring at the concrete floor and some stranger's cold hands are holding my neck still. My first thought was, "Geez, it sure is dark and quiet right now." Followed by, "Wait a minute..." I thought I should say something so they'd know I was okay, but I couldn't make that happen, so I just sat there until they decided I wasn't okay and ran for help. My conversation with the EMTs went like this:
"Are you diabetic?"
"No."
"Do you have heart problems?"
"No."
"How much have you had to drink during the game?"
"Nothing."
"Ma'am, you really need to tell us how much you've had to drink."
"Really, nothing. But I'm gonna throw up on you anyway."

I kept trying to talk them out of sending me to the hospital, but witnesses kept chiming in about how my head had bounced when it hit the ground, so I lost. I told them what my aunt was wearing - which thankfully was not a Titans shirt like everyone else - so they went to get her as they strapped me down to a backboard to move me to a stretcher. (By the way, stretchers at events have tall poles with big red flashing lights on top. There's no sneaking out.) Two idiot fans started a fight right next to me - can't you see me lying here with a giant plastic collar on my head - and were escorted away.

I had a lovely ambulance ride to the hospital with an EMT who told me it was his first day. (It wasn't.) I then spent the next three hours in the ER with IVs, tests, and x-rays of my shoulder and elbow, which weren't fractured. Judging by the knots on my head, I hit the back of my head on the handrail on my way down, before I leaned forward and hit my head on the floor.

Apparently, the nutritional value of a bowl of Cheerios eaten at 8:00am expires precisely at 3:00pm.

I'd like to thank the inventor of ibuprofen.

And I'd like to note that when I called my mother afterwards to tell her, her first two questions were, "Are you wearing something cute?" and "Did you meet a paramedic?"