September 5, 2012

Adventure #8675… In Which I Poison Myself.

 Here it was, a humdrum end of summer weekend and I was fighting the algae in casa de Nomad’s swimming pool.

Old Nazz had neglected the pool for a couple of weeks and the pool had become a launch pad for lily pads, mosquito's and the heavy green scum that is usually found in Louisiana Swamps. I was actually winning the battle, after throwing enough chemicals into the “water” in the previous few days to deforest most of South East Asia.

Or something.

So, as I embarked to thrust the last dagger into the Pea Soup, I threw copious amounts of calcium hypochlorite (aka Pool Shock) and Chlorine into the filter. I waited the usual 5 minutes and opened the valve to put the cartridge back in.

Bad idea.

The shit hadn’t dissolved and a noxious cloud of apparently semi toxic chemicals exploded in my face and which I breathed in. I immediately hit the ground and started gasping for air. As an added bonus, the stuff got in my eyes and I was temporarily blinded. I staggered to my bathroom and flushed out my eyes and tried to gargle/puke up what I had inhaled.

Two days later, I was still feeling dizzy and my eyes still burned so I called up Poison Control. The guy said I should have gone for medical treatment but that if I was still alive and able to breathe after two days I would slowly recover.

 I said to him… “so, I’m not gonna die?
 His answer: “we’re all gonna die”

Fuckin’ A.

It’s two days later (4 total since my mini-Bhopal) and I’m still all chemically. Eyes sting, all foggy, bad taste in my mouth. I always figured if chemicals were gonna do me in (especially powdered ones,) it woulda been recreational.

 Though I suppose a pool IS recreation.

 Irony- it’s what’s for dinner


 PS- Bob Mould's new lp Silver Age is fucking awesome. Here's the first single.


justin said...

You had me rolling with this, laughing at your expense. Glad the Nazzenator made it through.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Great line from poison control, one I heard when I took my first aid class. We do not spend much time looking at our troubles, no matter how toxic, with perspective. Consider your experience a metaphor for the upcoming (or not) Islander season