This past weekend we were swamped with an army of Local College newbies who each arrived looking like they were on Death's doorstep while barely blowing over .100 on the breathalyzer. Though the details changed, the facts remained the same: pale, semi-responsive, moaning in agony, remnants of poorly-cleaned vomit on the face and clothes, accompanied by only slightly less disheveled-looking friend.
Highlights included: 18 year old female with a BAC of .121 accompanied by sobbing friend giving a live play-by-play via cell phone to the girl's parents, who wondered if they should drive up from the next state over; 18 year old male who partied hardy at .134 and thought it would be a good idea to try to throw punches at triage (it wasn't); 17 year old male responsive only to deep sternal rub, whose urine-soaked clothes looked quite expensive.
At least the regular drunks know how to hold their liquor.
Sadly, though, we had a 19 year old female who claimed to only have started drinking four months ago but already showed signs of pancreatitis. Awful to see somebody that young rapidly throwing their life away.
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