In December I fainted in the office. Fell face down and knocked my shoulder.

Everyone freaked out and I finally got to experience my first ride in an ambulance and my first time in a hospital (since I could remember, of course).

At first, there was no real explanation. In the ambulance they were able to determine that I didn't have diabetes. Thank G-O-D (my life would be over without sugar). So, it was up to the 10 or so people who came to visit me that morning to figure out what was wrong.

Naturally, NTF was calm during lunch at the hospital with two friends as he explained that his friend Ben and SarahT would be the godparents of our son Jeffrey (or would it be Geoffrey?). Calmly, he explained that it would be a boy (and if it wasn't he would stuff it back up there).

After this lunch conversation SarahT came and told me that she would be the godmother of our child.

"Our child!? What are you talking about!?" I said mildly confused but not at all mildly amused as I was laid up in a hospital bed with a nasty needle sticking out of my hand (I faint when I get needles, the whole hospital thing was not a nice thing).

SarahT explained how calm NTF had been as he told her about the child I would have.

"I'm so glad he has everything sorted out. At least I can rest easy knowing that you and BEN will be able to take care of our child if anything were to happen to us." I said with all the snarkiness I could muster.

Thankfully, NTF's dad, a doctor, was on hand that day to come and check my urine (so pleasant) and let me know that it was just a little attention-seeking and nothing to be worried about.

My mother, who had been sitting with me the whole time, said loudly under her breath: "So, we don't have to worry that we'll be grandparents, then?" Thanks, mom.

Yesterday, in the middle of a Buenos Aires shopping centre Jeff (or Geoff) came back to haunt me. I was a little sick that morning but the prospect of seeing Star Wars at 7 p.m. finally dragged me out of bed and I made the trek to the movie theatre to meet ST and Becca. While sitting in the food court I got the same wave of nausea that hit me back in December. This time I made sure to stay sitting and I blacked out for a few seconds with ST standing in front of me. She made me eat toast and has now become my guardian of eating.

This weekend we're going to Mendoza. The land of wine...and, well, wine.

If you don't see me lurking around your blogs or posting anything for the weekend I promise my blood pressure hasn't dropped and I'm not in some hospital being forced to learn Spanish.

I'm probably just face down in a barrel of grapes.