Going up?

While helping staff the inpatient pharmacy last night, I got a somewhat frantic phone call from my co-resident, Virginia. "Our flight has been canceled," she said. Say what? We were supposed to be on our way to Las Vegas on late Friday afternoon for a convention and I was in no mood to reschedule flights. I went through the headache of being placed on hold forever and was told that I had 2 options: I could leave at 6:30 Friday morning or I would have to wait until Sunday. Neither option sounded fantastic. I hadn't even begun to think about packing, but on the other hand I really didn't want to wait until Sunday.

I decided to choose the super early option which meant I had a lot to do in a few hours. I flew out the door of the pharmacy and hustled to the parking structure elevator. My mind was racing as I pressed the button for level B. Was my suit clean? Did I have time to go to the bank?

The door closed and the elevator started going down. It passed level B and continued onto level C. Huh. Weird. The elevator hit bottom then started going up again. Once again it passed level B. Um, ok. This was not working out so well. I pushed the lobby button just wanting to get off anywhere at this point. Stopping was not something this elevator wanted to do and my request was denied. I was stuck on a moving elevator.

After about 2 minutes of up and down, I started to mildly panic. As I got close to the lobby level I could hear muffled voices outside. Do I yell for help? I felt kind of stupid yelling so I looked around for the emergency phone. There wasn't one. Great. I pressed the emergency alarm button. Surely someone heard that. As each minute went by my stress level increased. I started to feel really sweaty. The winter coat came off and I clawed through my purse searching for my cell phone. Success! One signal bar was flickering on and off. I prayed that it would be enough to get through to someone.

I called the pharmacy and heard the best thing ever on the other end of the line - a voice! The connection was horrible and Bonnie's voice fade in and out. I tried to keep it simple. "Bonnie. It's Bri. Elevator. Stuck. Send help." All I heard on the other end was laughter (I would have laughed at me too) and "Ok, I'll call for help." Then I waited.

A few more minutes went by and finally the elevator stopped. It was like a scene from a movie. I saw fingers come through the door seam and then it was pried open by a police officer. I burst off the elevator legs feeling like jello. I put my hands on my knees and took deep breaths. Ten minutes of ups and downs was not good for my stomach. "I have never seen that happen," said the officer. Of course he hadn't. This crap doesn't happen to most people.

The officer was nice enough to make sure I got down the other elevator safely. After getting my feet firmly planted on level B I walked to my car and then threw up. Fanfreakingtastic.

Let's hope my luck is better in Vegas.