The next morning, I did not feel good at all so I decided to head to Sydney’s one and only ‘Hangover Clinic’ where I was plonked onto a lounge chair, asked a million questions about my current and past health, put on an IV drip (it was amazing!), given an oxygen mask and handed some anti-nausea medication. I then snuggled up under a blanket for the next forty-five minutes while the treatment did its magic. After chatting to some young girls, who also hadn’t been home yet, about how they would more than likely be grounded by their parents, I wondered what in the hell I was doing in there.
On my way out of the clinic the doctor asked me how I was feeling.
When I answered with ‘Yeah much better thank you, but still pretty tired’ he answered bluntly and honestly with ‘Well love, this is a hangover clinic, not a cocaine rehab centre’.
With that vital piece of information, I went on my way.