Earlier this month, I spent a happy week with family and cousins at Quonnie beach in Rhode Island. Lots of John Sandford, “left, right, center,” and tossing Bocce balls with my now-famous west coast spin that blew away the New Yawkers.
Mid-week, my wife and I went to Providence to check out the art museums and visit the campus at Brown, my alma mater. We were looking forward to lobster and steamed clams for dinner, so we decided on a light lunch. I had a yellow fin tuna burger with aioli sauce. Pretty good for a city where—when I was an undergrad—you could never get a good cup of coffee.
Ten minutes later, I turned bright red, had trouble breathing, couldn’t focus, had serious pain in my back, neck and chest. I wondered if I were having a heart attack. I thought of John Lennon, and he wasn’t singing—he was coining a famous line: “Death happens when you’re making other plans.”
My wife got me to the Rhode Island Hospital’s ER in under fifteen minutes, but by then my blood pressure had plummeted, my kidneys were failing, and I was dehydrated. When the ER technicians saw me coming, my feet never touched the floor. Within minutes I was in a critical care unit and being treated—they didn’t care who I was or whether I had insurance or not. Quite simply, they saw a man who was dying and responded by saving his life. Thank you, Rhode Island Hospital.
It turns out I was a victim of scombroid toxicity, a rare form of poisoning that comes from dark meat fish—most commonly, tuna—that has not been handled properly during storage or processing. In my case, the yellow fin tuna came from Vietnam. I haven’t yet learned about inspection procedures other than the restaurant manager saying “we buy from the finest seafood supplier on the East coast.”
I’ll know more about that and—why, me?—later, but for now I’m hoping this post goes viral: THE RHODE ISLAND HOSPITAL IN PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND IS THE FINEST HOSPITAL I HAVE EVER SPENT TIME IN. KUDOS TO THEIR DOCTORS, NURSES AND TECHNICIANS, AND ESPECIALLY NURSE MIKE IN THE ER.
I’ve never reviewed a hospital before, but Rhode Island Hospital gets five-plus stars.
Mid-week, my wife and I went to Providence to check out the art museums and visit the campus at Brown, my alma mater. We were looking forward to lobster and steamed clams for dinner, so we decided on a light lunch. I had a yellow fin tuna burger with aioli sauce. Pretty good for a city where—when I was an undergrad—you could never get a good cup of coffee.
Ten minutes later, I turned bright red, had trouble breathing, couldn’t focus, had serious pain in my back, neck and chest. I wondered if I were having a heart attack. I thought of John Lennon, and he wasn’t singing—he was coining a famous line: “Death happens when you’re making other plans.”
My wife got me to the Rhode Island Hospital’s ER in under fifteen minutes, but by then my blood pressure had plummeted, my kidneys were failing, and I was dehydrated. When the ER technicians saw me coming, my feet never touched the floor. Within minutes I was in a critical care unit and being treated—they didn’t care who I was or whether I had insurance or not. Quite simply, they saw a man who was dying and responded by saving his life. Thank you, Rhode Island Hospital.
It turns out I was a victim of scombroid toxicity, a rare form of poisoning that comes from dark meat fish—most commonly, tuna—that has not been handled properly during storage or processing. In my case, the yellow fin tuna came from Vietnam. I haven’t yet learned about inspection procedures other than the restaurant manager saying “we buy from the finest seafood supplier on the East coast.”
I’ll know more about that and—why, me?—later, but for now I’m hoping this post goes viral: THE RHODE ISLAND HOSPITAL IN PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND IS THE FINEST HOSPITAL I HAVE EVER SPENT TIME IN. KUDOS TO THEIR DOCTORS, NURSES AND TECHNICIANS, AND ESPECIALLY NURSE MIKE IN THE ER.
I’ve never reviewed a hospital before, but Rhode Island Hospital gets five-plus stars.
—Karl Alexander
