Tragedy of the Pokemons
This weekend I went to see the Pokemon drone show down at the Ferry Building, having always been curious to see a drone show. I figured in honor of the pocket monsters I would re-install Pokemon Go and play it on the bus. It’s been a few years since I played it – I started doing the crossword and other word puzzles on the bus or writing in my notebook instead of the pandemicky, avoidant haze of flinging pokeballs into the aether.
As we rode down Mission it became more and more clear to me that this was not just a drone show. We were surrounded by Pokemon people. Finally I realized it was a 50,000 person convention or the World Championships or something. Cosplay! Pikachu hats! People with little stuffed pokemons perched on their shoulders with magnets, like Teto the fox-squirrel riding on Nausicaa! Little kids with a million pokemon charms on their pokebackpacks!
It was very festive, and I filled out my Pokedex with some new creatures.
There behind the Ferry Building half an hour or so before the show, I pulled out my handkerchief to blow my nose and somehow inhaled a huge piece of woolly pocket lint. Oh, my fucking god. I could barely breathe. Years of asthma practice are probably what saved me as I know how to sip in just a tiny bit of air without panicking while in classic tripod position. But I also couldn’t stop violent coughing. Pieces of lint flew out. But not all of it. I could not speak. Like it took me about 10 min to just croak out, “cant… talk”. I was crying. I vomited a little at least twice, desperately trying to miss my own feet and wheelchair footplate. Thank god it was dark!!! Danny and my nephew rallied round me unable to really help but it was comforting that they were there.
Usually I go everywhere with a giant backpack full of crap and I also have a policy to always have water with me in case there is an earthquake and I am trapped in the BART tunnel, but somehow, this evening I didn’t have any of that. In one of my emergency pouches hanging off the wheelchair though, I had an inhaler and a different inhaler and some narcan and some nasal AND injectable epinephrine. (Also basic first aid!) About 5 albuterols later I was able to stop the violent coughing. (If I had remembered the epinephrine, I would have done it.) The weird waspy buzz of drones began and I think the excitement of DRONE SHOW gave me a free adrenaline boost.
I’m so happy not to have died under an enormous, creepy, glowing Charizard!
The drone show was neat. It was big, and dramatic, though I missed the loudness and smell of fireworks. It seemed very short so I guess the drones have limited battery time. I probably won’t make much effort to see another one unless/until the technology improves a lot and there are thousands of drones creeping me the fuck out as I imagine they are about to start shooting us all down.
The bus ride home was SO entertaining as two women in front of me were deep in the lore of the giant conference. They both live the pokemon fan lifestyle, with the games, the cards, the outfits and cosplay, the collecting all the pins and water bottles and tote bags you line up for at the events, and the tournaments and conferences! One was here from Hawaii and I think the other (in home made Gengar outfit!) was local. I assumed they knew each other but 3 stops before I got off, they exchanged names. Hahahah! Very cute.
I then uninstalled POkemon Go. It takes up too much space and I don’t need the anesthetizing.
I was physically very uncomfortable even after I got home. I was blowing 427 on my peak flow meter (when it could even register – it kept failing from the coughs.) Usually I blow around the 560s or 570s. So that didn’t feel great and my chest also hurt like fuck and i could hear the wheezing of breathing out via gross, fucked up, inhaled lint stuck deep somewhere in my bronchial tubes. I took a ton of guaifenesin and drank several mugs of lemon tea with honey. Finally around 11pm, something loosened and a lot of the pain as if something were STUCK, lessened and I was able to sleep.
I spent Sunday unable to talk much, as my throat or airway was so fucked up from coughing. There was, and is, still something stuck in there which I realize puts me at risk for pneumonia. Will watch out to make sure that all is normal (ie monitoring my air flow and will take my temperature every night.) Today I feel pretty ok, I’m normally active, I worked from home and did 3 meetings, and now am minimizing talking, which is why I’m typing instead out of frustration. I am back to a normal peak flow, though my chest hurts and my throat still feels bad.
The story is just funny and dumb enough that I wanted to tell it!