Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2189659-What-Happens-in-Vegas
by J
Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Experience · #2189659
Personal narrative of what happened my first time in Las Vegas.
Mersky 5

Jordan Mersky

Dr. Wells

English 102

16 February 2019

{What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas?

         A few cliches have followed me throughout my life. The one I relate to now is "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."
Prior to her trip to Vegas, my aunt asked if I wanted to come along and babysit my cousins during the night because I am underage and cannot partake in the usual Vegas night time attractions. My aunt's offer was not appealing because I was going to get paid, nor because I would get to see my family, including my grandparents. Despite these amazing benefits, I chose to go because I had never been to Vegas. I had heard of people going to Vegas and having a variety of wild and entertaining experiences, and I wanted to go and see it for myself.
Even though I was meeting my family, I felt this trip was an opportunity for independence because I was going without my immediate family or friends and flying by myself. I anticipated the excitement of landing because I love the feeling of getting to see a new place and experience something completely unfamiliar to me. As I walked through the terminal, I tried to take in all the ambience, the assortment of vibrant, neon machines that people hunched over as they gambled their money away in the airport. "That's what desperation looks like," I thought. I moved on and got into the Uber that would take me to the hotel and looked out the scenery. It was shockingly similar to Arizona, where I spend almost all of my time. "How disappointing." Cacti and mountains as far as the eye could see.
The Strip, however, was a surprise. Leaving the Uber, I stepped into an oasis. The dark lighting of the early night made the bright lights of the hotel even brighter along with the beautiful illuminated artwork covering every ounce of the exterior walls. Stepping onto the glass floor, I was jaw dropped holding my luggage. What looked like a million colors cascading along the marble floor drew in my eye like a hypnotic swirl. As my eyes unlocked from the rainbow on the floor, I was drawn to the abundant foliage expanding across the entire ceiling. The combination of glass and nature astounded me as I was surrounded by so much beauty. I spent the time waiting for my family to get to the hotel just walking around taking it all in.
         Later, I spent an active day with my family walking around the Strip. Then it was dinner time, which meant I was on the clock. The adults left for dinner and a show, and I stayed in the room with the kids. Since my cousins were on a vacation, and I am a very fun babysitter, I put on a Disney movie for the kids to prolong their bedtime. Since they were experiencing their own version of a hypnotic swirl by gluing their eyes to the movie screen, I decided to take a bath.
I have always loved baths as they are a common symbol for relaxing and unwinding. I drew my bath and put in loads of the complimentary bath soap. I was finally ready to get in and have that cliche moment of taking that loud sigh and letting out the stress residing in my body. I successfully began to become more and more at ease when it suddenly hit me that my bath felt like a pot of soup trying to cook me. I decided this was the appropriate time to get out. The next thing I knew I opened my eyes on the floor. My instant thought was that I had fallen, but oddly, I could not remember. Trying to push past that odd moment, I got up and the next thing I knew I was on the floor again. This time I realized that I did not have memory of what had caused me to be on the floor in the first place.
Realizing this, I tried getting up a third time, which not surprisingly ended with my being on the floor. The third time was different though, because this time I woke up covered in blood. I opened my eyes to see blood covering my freshly cleaned towel from the hotel cleaning service. Fear rushed my entire body as I got up and threw myself to the counter to help hold myself up. I looked at myself and saw a huge gash in my head and blood on my face. --I had fainted and proceeded to fall and hurt myself every attempt at getting up. I began to cry and texted "SOS" to my parents, who were not there and then called my aunt, crying, "Something happened! I don't know what, but there's blood!"
Hearing the words come out of my mouth, spoken aloud, terrified me and caused my crying to persist. I managed to stumble onto the bed. Minutes later my aunt and grandma rushed into the room and calmed me down, saying, "It's okay. Don't worry. Everything is going to be okay." I calmed down because I was relieved by my family coming into the room.
As soon as my body was beginning to feel slightly relieved, there was a knock and the door, asking, "Is she decent, can we come in?"
It was the paramedics because unbeknownst to me, my family dialed 911 as they were rushing to my aid. The paramedics came in and began monitoring my heart rate and taking vital signs, told me I needed stitches and bandaged my wound as they got the story of what happened. They told me that I would need to go to the hospital to make sure I was okay and to rule out the possibility of a concussion.
I never thought that I would ever be in an ambulance or a gurney, but there I was getting rolled out through the hotel lobby to get into the ambulance, passing inebriated people who, seeing me, broke out of the hypnotic swirl of the casino's machines. The events that followed included admission to the hospital, tests, scans and bloodwork. Every new nurse and doctor needed me to repeat the small amount of information that I knew about what happened, and each new person would always ask the same question, " Have you been drinking or taking any drugs?" to which I responded, "No, I am completely sober."
The doctors were clearly used to having to deal with accidents occuring due to people being under the influence of drugs and alcohol. After I got stitches in my head, I was cleared from the hospital able to make it back to the scene of the accident, my hotel room. My face was incredibly swollen from the trauma, which incited a lot of questions, and even more stares. Every person we saw the rest of the trip, be it a bystander or a waitress, assumed I was injured because of excessive drinking or drugs. I was not insulted by this assumption because it was Vegas and that is the culture of Vegas.
         Once our trip had ended and I was back in my own bed, everyone close to me was informed about what happened. After painfully reliving the entire series of unfortunate events, I incurred the same question as before,"Had you been drinking or taking any drugs?", to which I responded, " No, I was completely sober."
         This experience has taught me a lot about myself, other people, and cliches. I always had a respect for doctors, but after going through this, my respect and appreciation for people who devote their lives to helping others has increased immensely. I have also learned that I am stronger than I had believed, not physically, but mentally. After going through trauma alone, and then without my mom, who is my personal nurse whenever I get so much as a tiny cold, I realize that I am capable of being strong in hard times. And that what happens in Vegas, really does stay in Vegas, except for the scar.

© Copyright 2019 J (jmersky at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2189659-What-Happens-in-Vegas