Aneeda72
Well-known Member
Well, here is a fun fact.
Wendover, Nevada has a lot of casinos and is a popular place for Utahns to go on the weekend. It’s an hour and half drive from SLC. A straight shot at 80 miles an hour on a good highway with somewhat interesting varied scenery. The Montego Bay casino has a great buffet.
Husband loves to go there. I love it there. We love the food. The gambling, the overall excitement and energy of the place. We went Friday. Lots of old people go there.
Here is another less fun fact which we did not know. Wendover DOES NOT HAVE a hospital, a medical clinic, or a doctor.
. We found that out when I collapsed, in the upstairs lobby, on the way back to my room. I didn’t faint. I collapsed. I was suddenly very, very, tired; and every muscle in my body turned to jelly. Thankfully, I fell/sat onto my walker seat and my husband pushed up against me to keep me from hitting the floor. He says I became unconscious, twice.
I don’t remember being unconscious, but, well, you know, whatever.
He called the paramedics. I lost my hearing for a bit, but when it came back he was on the phone to the paramedics-in Utah. They transferred him to the paramedics in Nevada who wanted our life story, us being such interesting people and all. I became aware while this conversation took place that I was regaining muscle control.
I lifted my face, which was plastered against his fat belly, and realized I need a bathroom. I was going to be sick. Realized I could walk, stood up, and headed for the elevator, to get to our room, to get to the bathroom, so I could throw up before I collapsed again. He yelled, stop. Nope, got to go. And so we went as he told the paramedics we were headed up. Got to the room, got the dry heaves, got to my bed, laid down, and here come the paramedics.
The paramedics do their thing, hook me up for a quick EKG, pronounce my heart is fine, and did I want to take an ambulance or the helicopter back to SLC, UT. Both take an hour.

. What? Yup, no hospital, no clinic, no doctor. But Wendover does have an ambulance service and a medical helicopter service. And was I the same lady they saw last weekend?
. You know-all us old fat collapsing woman look the same.
No, you haven’t seen me before.
No not taking a helicopter. No not taking an ambulance for a 150 plus mile ride. Yes, I refuse treatment, wait, does it cost me to refuse treatment? No. Ok. Treatment refused. Lord love a duck. The nice Nevada paramedics explain exactly where you have to be on the highway, basically an hour away at a certain rest stop, where you can call 911 and, if needed, get the UTAH paramedics. Apparently all of us old woman would rather risk death than money on a ride.
So. I am barely able to walk to the car, but I do. He stuffs everything in, including me, and at midnight we start home. Later he said the car used up more gas at 90 mph but other than that it did well. I don’t know. I do know it’s good there was a Kleenex box in the car. Cause it can whole a lot of
. That’s what I did all the way home. 
Wendover, Nevada has a lot of casinos and is a popular place for Utahns to go on the weekend. It’s an hour and half drive from SLC. A straight shot at 80 miles an hour on a good highway with somewhat interesting varied scenery. The Montego Bay casino has a great buffet.
Husband loves to go there. I love it there. We love the food. The gambling, the overall excitement and energy of the place. We went Friday. Lots of old people go there.
Here is another less fun fact which we did not know. Wendover DOES NOT HAVE a hospital, a medical clinic, or a doctor.
I don’t remember being unconscious, but, well, you know, whatever.
He called the paramedics. I lost my hearing for a bit, but when it came back he was on the phone to the paramedics-in Utah. They transferred him to the paramedics in Nevada who wanted our life story, us being such interesting people and all. I became aware while this conversation took place that I was regaining muscle control.
I lifted my face, which was plastered against his fat belly, and realized I need a bathroom. I was going to be sick. Realized I could walk, stood up, and headed for the elevator, to get to our room, to get to the bathroom, so I could throw up before I collapsed again. He yelled, stop. Nope, got to go. And so we went as he told the paramedics we were headed up. Got to the room, got the dry heaves, got to my bed, laid down, and here come the paramedics.
The paramedics do their thing, hook me up for a quick EKG, pronounce my heart is fine, and did I want to take an ambulance or the helicopter back to SLC, UT. Both take an hour.
No, you haven’t seen me before.
No not taking a helicopter. No not taking an ambulance for a 150 plus mile ride. Yes, I refuse treatment, wait, does it cost me to refuse treatment? No. Ok. Treatment refused. Lord love a duck. The nice Nevada paramedics explain exactly where you have to be on the highway, basically an hour away at a certain rest stop, where you can call 911 and, if needed, get the UTAH paramedics. Apparently all of us old woman would rather risk death than money on a ride.
So. I am barely able to walk to the car, but I do. He stuffs everything in, including me, and at midnight we start home. Later he said the car used up more gas at 90 mph but other than that it did well. I don’t know. I do know it’s good there was a Kleenex box in the car. Cause it can whole a lot of