Because, when I woke up the next day after having slept on the couch again (I still couldn't walk, let alone up the stairs) I had lost the control over the other side of my mouth as well. At that moment I hardly couldn't say anything that was understandable anymore. I couldn't eat well anymore, because apparently I had lost the use of my cheek muscles. When you chew, you obviously do this with your teeth, but you might not realize that your cheeks constantly push the food back to the middle so they can be processed again. If that doesn't work, your food gets 'stuck' in your cheeks after a couple of times chewing. I had to manually push my cheeks to push the food back to the middle.
But even worse, I lost my taste! The only thing I could still taste was something that was very very sweet. Sour, salt and bitter didn't get analyzed by my tongue, or brain, whichever. Last but not least I couldn't even get as far as to put my hands on the table to stand up. And the panic returned.
My girlfriend was still asleep when I woke up that Tuesday August 30th, but when she did and saw (and heard) me, I could see the panic in her eyes. Now as I told you, she is one that is not scared easily, so her panic increased my panic too. She skipped the doctor's office and went straight on to call the ER, where I had been the day before. The ER told her that we should come in again. As well as I could I tried to interrupt her to tell her there was no way I could make it there on my own. The ER nurse told us to call an ambulance.
My girlfriend did just that. She spent the next half hour trying to convince the dispatch room that this was urgent enough to send an ambulance. Apparently as long as you're talking (ish) and breathing it is hard to get an ambulance here. I somewhat can understand that they have to filter the calls, but in my case (turned out later) time was very much of the essence. Finally they agreed to send an ambulance.
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