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