I don't remember most of the trip. The sharp pain that came with eachmovement, the graying out of vision, feeling rather than hearing themedical techs...in the ambulance when they intervened once, probably morethan once with my impending death. The feeling of falling that wasprobably an elevator but might have been a fainting spell. Then beingpulled from my gurney, the cool suffocating air on my face as myrespirator mask was removed, the feel of cold metal as unseen hands laidme out. Darkness.. My thighs were clamped together. The air conditioning was on high but I felt feverish. I straightened my skirt and grabbed the box of materials and went back in the hotel. I left them backstage where my boss met me. He said, "Hey, are you OK? You look flushed."I mumbled, "Just feeling queasy." Which was not entirely untrue. He said, "Why don't you go home and if you feel better by five come back and help me pack up". I said, "Okay." By now the wine's effects had wound down. So I was feeling. More

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