Remembering?

A flurry of doctors and nurses hovered above my bed.
“Check this, check that. How’s he responding?”
Finally, “He’s coming out of it. He’ll be alright; you can move him to ICU now.

All this was a blur that I vaguely remember.
My first clear recollection was that of a psychiatric nurse standing at the foot of my bed asking me if I tried to commit suicide by overdosing on Lithium.

I really can’t remember. I don’t want to commit suicide. Since my depression is under control, I have too much to live for. I would never do something like that; would I?
I agonized; wondering if I did the unthinkable. Would I? Could I?

But what did cause my black out? I remember nothing after I went to bed Tuesday night. Sherry tells me I insisted that she go on to the bookstore without me the next morning. She tells me that she later called our daughter to go check on me. Our daughter and her husband let themselves in and went back to the master bedroom only to find me curled up in a fetal position at the head of the bed. Kimlin says that I insisted that Shaun dress me while she left the room. I don’t remember any of this; just waking up in ICU.

“But I’ve been taking Lithium for years and all it’s done is stabilize my mood. How can it knock me out after all these years?”
She mumbled something about kidneys processing and went on to grill me about wanting to die.
I didn’t want to die; I wanted to find out how Lithium could knock me out. I never did get a straight answer. Instead I got a nurse who asked me if I could write my name, write a check, write down my address, make change for a one dollar bar of soap, catch a cross-town bus; (I flunked this one because I haven’t ridden a city bus in 40 years). So she asked me if I could find my house from the hospital. I asked her about the Lithium but she didn’t know. I left the hospital two days later with my question still unanswered.
I continue to wonder.
What if it happens again and I don't wake up?