PHOENIX — I'm told when you have one of these mini-strokes, your fingers might hit the wrong keys, so my meaning well in a column might come off as something else.
I can't explain the previous 39 years.
I should have known this trip to spring training was headed to the hospital.
They tell me the first clue should have been when I fell getting out of bed. Again and again. By the way, I do not recommend sitting on a toilet and falling off toward the tub.
Fortunately, my training as an athlete — having played as much golf as I have — saved me.
I'm told I should have dialed 911. That's funny. Marriott hotels do not have telephones between toilet and tub. And I'm a platinum member and usually get one of the better rooms.
By the way, I understand the true meaning of being a lifetime platinum member. It means there's a good chance you might die in a hotel room.
I would have called the Bagger, who lives here, but while I was coming here, the son-in-law was taking the family to Disneyland. A spur-of-the-moment thing.
Reminded me of Angry Arte. I go one way, he goes the other.
As I contemplated life on the floor between toilet and tub, just knowing they clean their bathroom floors a lot more than the wife brought me a certain peace.
Eventually I rode the walls back to bed and decided I wouldn't cover the Dodgers in the morning. I thought that would make me feel better.
I've been called a dummy repeatedly the last few days for not calling for help. Had it been a full-blown stroke, I had three hours to get the medication to avoid bigger problems. I was lucky it was a TSA — make that TIA. Still have a few problems typing.
I alerted Times beat reporter Dylan Hernandez that I couldn't cover the Dodgers. He told the Dodgers because he thinks delivering good news makes him more popular.
Dodgers PR guy Steve Brener called to confirm, a little too giddy for my taste.
I mentioned banging into the furniture and suddenly he's got me talking to Dodgers trainer Sue Falsone. She wanted me to look in the mirror and smile. I never thought of that before. I never see anyone smiling when I arrive, so this was my chance to see what it would look like.
The rest is a blue blur with the Dodgers saving me. I wonder if this means their motto for 2013 will be: Win It for Page 2.
I hope I don't have to wind up calling them the Choking Dogs.
Falsone went above and beyond. She sent trainer Aaron Schumacher to get me to the emergency room.
As I lay there contemplating life, I thought about the last question I might have asked as a journalist.