Three weekends ago, I found myself in a place I hadn’t expected to be—flat on my back in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, a hospital smock on my chest, and more tests being run on me than I could count. It was disorienting, scary, and oddly clarifying.
I had been in Sleepy Hollow, New York, visiting my daughter and her family for the Fourth of July weekend. The house was full—several of my kids and grandkids had made the trip, and the air was buzzing with summer joy. That morning there was a classic small-town celebration: a children’s parade, complete with fire trucks and police escorts; a park picnic with burgers, hot dogs, tug of war, and laughter; a Norman Rockwell kind of day.
But something felt off.
As we walked the five blocks to the park, I started to feel woozy—just a little lightheaded. Not enough to raise alarms, but enough to notice. I mentioned it to one of my kids in passing. Later that afternoon, I left the festivities early and biked home to take a short nap. I felt better afterward and even went to the fireworks show without issue.
But the next morning, things escalated quickly. After getting up to use the bathroom, I felt faint—so faint that I had to brace myself against a table to avoid falling. Then came the wrenching—dry heaves, sweating, dizziness. Then it came again. That’s when I knew something wasn’t right.
A quick call to my daughter, and before long, my son-in-law was driving me to urgent care. They redirected us to the ER, and within minutes I was admitted to the hospital.
Tests followed. A lot of them.
EKG, MRI, ultrasound, blood work, oxygen levels, heart rhythm, inner ear checks. You name it, they did it. All in search of what could be causing my symptoms. I could feel the seriousness in the doctors’ tones and the concerned looks on the nurses’ faces.
Then the answer came back—dehydration. Severe dehydration. That’s it.
No stroke. No vertigo. No cardiac event. Just an old man who hadn’t been drinking enough water. It sounds absurd, almost laughable. But it wasn’t.
What I learned is that in 90-degree heat and 90% humidity, especially for someone used to dry West Coast air, the body needs *a lot* of water. Not eight glasses a day. More like sixteen. Who knew?
But the water lesson is just the surface.
The deeper truth came to me when I opened my eyes in that hospital bed and saw two of my children sitting silently at the foot of my bed, looking at me with a mix of worry, love, and recognition. In that moment, we all felt it. We all saw it. Mortality. Mine. Theirs. Ours. The illusion of invincibility, of endless days, shattered—if only for a moment.
I cried. They cried. No words. Just tears.
That image—my son and daughter sitting side by side, watching over me—will stay with me forever. And maybe with them too. A moment of reckoning. A brush with the real. A gift, in a strange and humbling way.
So yes, drink your water. Especially if you’re on the East Coast in July.
But also: call your kids. Tell them you love them. Sit with your aging parent. Hug your grandchild. Life has a way of whispering to us before it shouts. I’m grateful I heard the whisper. I hope I keep listening.
A wonderful post. So glad to read the answer is simple.,stay hydrated. Love the message. Hug and love your children unconditionally, care for the elderly with kindness and compassion. If we are fortunate, we will one day be that person and all we will need is love, as the Beetles sang.
A wonderful post. So glad to read the answer is simple.,stay hydrated. Love the message. Hug and love your children unconditionally, care for the elderly with kindness and compassion. If we are fortunate, we will one day be that person and all we will need is love, as the Beetles sang.
Good thing that did not happen during your legendary solo mid summer desert hikes into the desert!
Glad you are okay! Enjoy drinking lots more of H2O & thanks for the reminders!
I love happy endings Neil!
Good for us older ones to understand the importance of water. Good post
Neil,
So glad it turned out okay. That sounded scary. Many lessons learned there, which we should all be seriously thinking about. The importance of health, and to take care once something occurs, and the importance of family, and your and their love for one another. You are a great father and set an exemplary tone always, and you have a wonderful family who loves you. Take care, and drink water, lots of it-in the heat. Glad you weren’t out in the desert when this happened.
Neil, while scary, as I read on, I was fearful that the outcome was going to be worse and heart related. So glad you avoided that result. Lessons learned my friend, 6 months ago, I too was admited to the hospital in ER for severe dehydratation. When I went to the hospital, my lab numbers were so abnormal that they were not quite sure what was wrong, but final outcome was the same hydration. A fact is as we age we lose our thirst for water. My incident taught me a huge lesson, I now mix half water with gatorade to keep my electrolytes in check. I always see the younger generation folks carrying around bottles and thermos of water and thought that was a bit much. Now I know the reason, and they have it wright. Again you are right, listen to your body, it will whisper to you when something isnt right. Take care buddy. Norm Jester
So glad you listened to your whisper and you will recover quickly. Good reminder for everyone to keep hydrated.
Hi Neil …So glad to see you… you look so thin…you lost mucho weight!
take care, drink water..Lee
Neil, So glad to hear you are going to be ok. We desert rats know dehydration can be killer. But, sounds like humidity makes it real sneaky. Plus, as we age, our thirst sensors don’t work as well. (Sorry about that “as we age” bit.) Hope you be enjoying every moment with your loved ones for a long, long time to come. 🙂
Neil,
I’m so sorry you had to go through this and so glad your family was with you! Dehydration is scary and sneaky. Richard wrecked our car 2 weeks ago, was uninjured but kept overnight in the hospital because they thought something heart-related was involved – diagnosis was severe dehydration.