SHUDDERING, sweating, and dry-heaving - all mixed in with bouts of sickness and diarrhoea. This was horrendous.
I also knew exactly what it was: the onset of another panic attack, and just three days before the start of the holiday of a lifetime to Thailand.
I was aware that it was a panic attack because, unfortunately, this was not an isolated incident. In fact, I had endured these episodes for some years now and foolishly done nothing about them.
These situations had indeed been mentioned in passing on this blog in the days when I was learning to drive.
In my review of my third failed test,
entitled 'Under Pressure' no less, I wrote: "My anxiety was so bad that no rational explanation could calm me down
and, due to the resultant insomnia, I expected that I may even have to
cancel."
Meanwhile, another panic attack in London was the reason why a promised
review of my work experience at the Camden New Journal back in 2009 was conspicuous by its absence.
For, on the first morning of that placement, I had a visceral reaction, similar to the one which I described in anticipation of the trip to Thailand.
Specifically, I was overwhelmed by the fact that, as a trained journalist following my successful NCTJ course at Darlington, I expected myself to work in a way that any other reporter would.
By rights, I should have been able to do this, of course.
However, the panic attack rendered me unable to do much around the office and this negative experience has been reinforced by my failure to do any placements elsewhere since. Perhaps, even though I am now seeking help, I am just not cut out for it.
Recently, I have found life more difficult, despite the support of excellent friends and family, as a series of relatively stressful events happened one after another.
For instance, in March, I was the best man at the wedding of my best mate. Now, making a speech is widely regarded as one of the most pressurised occasions of a person's life if they are not used to public speaking.
Rather than a touch of the nerves, though, I entered full-blown panic mode with stomach acid shooting up my oesophagus, making me nauseous and unable to eat the fine wedding feast on offer.
That, in the end, I still managed to stand up and deliver the speech was nothing short of remarkable, according to the doctor, and it remains for me a very proud moment.
Indeed, without declaring that I want a medal or anything, the fact is that I have always managed generally to muddle through with any task which I was feeling anxious about, undoubtedly showing some strength of character.
Sadly, my panic attack about Thailand - a holiday, for goodness sake! - was perhaps the worst I had ever experienced. And so, I finally decided it was time to seek professional assistance.
My excellent GP immediately prescribed some diazepam to take me down off the ceiling and two days of this powerful stuff was enough to start and get me on the straight and narrow.
By Thursday 3 May, I was ready to make a decision about Thailand - and thankfully so, given that my train to the south was due to set off at just after 1pm. This was really cutting it fine.
In the end, I decided to bite the bullet and ensure that I did not waste a lot of money and a most wonderful experience. Whether I liked it or not, I was going to Thailand.
First, though, I was off to Reading for a couple of days before a flight from Heathrow to Bangkok via Zurich.
Handily included in that time was a trip to the CAMRA Reading Beer Festival which impressed with its size and organisation.
Then, on Saturday 6 May, the real deal began. Following a nervy landing at the short stop-off in Zurich, courtesy of a skiddy arrival on a sodden runway, I was at last on board a plane to Bangkok.
An episode of the Simpsons and the music of the Beatles, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, and Beethoven passed the time on the 10-hour flight which did not seem anywhere near as long to me.
And so to Bangkok. Admittedly, at first, I found the metropolis of the Thai capital a little overwhelming with its constant bustle.
But, after being introduced to the atmospheric Khao San Road - a Glastonbury-esque experience without the rain - I began properly to relax into my holiday.
I did not have long in Bangkok at this point to see the sights - although I did fit in my first ever ride in a tuk-tuk - as, once our crowd was assembled from various flights, we were off to the islands via a flight to Suritthani and a ferry.
Koh Samui and Koh Phangan are both idyllic places without being off the beaten track for the casual tourist (cf. the backpacker) and hiring scooters helped us get around the islands more easily.
In Lamai on Samui, we visited the Grandmother and Grandfather Rocks - so named because of their, er, appearance - as well as a nearby waterfall. Then, at night, we kicked back by drinking buckets of various concoctions at the Ark Bar while being hustled by nine-year-old children playing Connect 4.
Refusing to play one of the kids, she retorted that I was a "ladyboy" before running off. It was certainly not an insult which I expected to hear but quite amusing all the same.
Meanwhile, on Phangan, we reached the beach near the Haad Rin peninsula where the legendary Full Moon parties take place.
There was not one scheduled for when we were there and, though the expected Half Moon party was cancelled for renovation, the Jungle Experience near Baan Tai was an adequate replacement.
The week on the islands - four days on Samui, three on Phangan - were highly relaxing and exactly what I had needed. By this stage, there were no second thoughts in having taken the plunge.
Back to Bangkok for the second week and there was plenty of 'work' to be done if we wanted to see the sights.
The heat and humidity were tough going at the height of the afternoon but I soon learned that Sprite and the 7-Eleven shops were my friends and would just about keep me in my comfort zone.
So, what did we end up seeing in Bangkok then?
Well, the Grand Palace complex does indeed seem to be the grandest area of the capital. It is split into several quarters and features 34 buildings, many of which are still in proper use today.
But, while the Palace is one of the most extraordinary sights in Thailand, the mish-mash of its layout left me slightly confused and overwhelmed meaning my favourite tourist traps in Bangkok lie elsewhere.
Wat Pho nearby, for instance, is a much smaller complex but hardly forgettable on account of the huge Reclining Buddha which is its centrepiece.
And Wat Arun - the Temple of the Dawn (
pictured) - is an imposing landmark on the west bank of Chao Phraya river, featuring a central prang of 86 metres.
Steep stairs allow tourists to clamber up the prang to gain a fine panoramic view of the skyscrapers overlooking the river - but more on that sort of thing a little later.
For, the entirety of the second week was not just spent in Bangkok: there was also an excursion out to Kanchanburi which took in the Kao Poon Cave and allowed us a walk along the reconstructed Bridge over the River Kwai.
A trip to a safari park required us to engage our consciences as it was clear that many of the animals were not treated particularly well.
Nevertheless, the feeding of bananas to giraffes and zebras produced happier memories and some great photographs. The giraffes were particularly friendly, moving their heads right inside the safari bus to snaffle the goodies while earning a stroke on the neck.
The second day of the tour featured the Erawan Falls,
named after the three-headed white elephant of Hindu mythology.
I succeeded in reaching the top of the seven-tiered falls, and swam in gorgeous rock pools filled with unnervingly nippy fish. Later that day, I rode on the back of an elephant and then got comprehensively soaked when it swished river water with its trunk back over its head!
The remainder of the holiday was spent in Bangkok again, though our group of six dwindled in number as we left on our respective flights.
Even still on the last day when there were just two of us left, we made attempts to get around the city and be productive.
The stomach-turning Siriraj Medical Museum had been well-placed in a slot at the end of the break with its gruesome displays having earned it the nickname of 'The Museum of Death'.
And so it was just as well that it could be balanced out by some spectacular sights in our very last activity as we visited a skybar at the top of the State Tower.
Standing at a height of 810 feet, the view from the 64th floor was an amazing end to a holiday which I somehow almost never made it on.
I now know that staying at home would have been a foolish decision in the extreme and hindsight has caused me to shake my head in disbelief at a panic attack over a holiday.
Still, I cannot deny that it actually happened - and has happened in the past - and so the problem now needs to be dealt with properly.
In the meantime, the memories of my Thai hiatus are all good, and live on and on: many thanks to family and friends who helped me let it be.
