The outcome can be fatal.The Doc and I had planned the scenario carefully. She dosed Rachel's meal with the cocktail of drugs that she'd calculated would replicate the symptoms while I distracted the guard that was about to take it in to her. We wanted his response to be genuine.The symptoms started to appear very shortly after she started eating. The guard hit the panic button when it became obvious that she was having a problem. I arrived with the Doc to find her clutching at her throat with one hand and her belly with the other. The Doc took her pulse. "It's racing like anything," she said. Rachel was coughing saying she couldn't swallow, that she had cramping pains in her stomach, that she was finding it hard to breath. She lost control of her bowels. She was groaning in a mixture of pain and terror, staring wildly around her trying to understand what was happening to her."Help me, I'm dying," she gasped. "It's all going — awwkkgh — so black. I can't..."The Doc turned to the. If I’d been able to think, I probably would’ve been scared. Instead I was numb.I sat down on the curb. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to think of a plan but nothing happened. It was like when your computer gets stuck. It doesn’t matter what keys you press, nothing happens. The screen stays exactly the same.I probably would have stayed there forever but my brain started showing me weird visions again. This weird vision involved a very tall and thin elderly lady wearing lime-green leggings with yellow polka dots, a purple house-coat trimmed in orange faux-fur and slippers in the shape of a bear’s claws. I guess at least now I knew I could see in color again. I blinked a couple of times but she didn’t disappear. She was talking to me and flapping her arms around. The words she was saying to me didn’t make sense. It sounded like, “blah, blah” then some arm flapping and then “blah, blah.”I looked up at her feeling confused and puzzled. My brain sort of remembers the words she spoke but.
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