1987, three college roommates and I go to Daytona Beach for Spring Break. We drop acid (I'm the only one who's done it before) then get tired of waiting for it to kick in and smoke a ton of weed.
One roommate has a really bad trip, freaking, running around scared and saying freakie shit. The next morning, three of us are feeling like ass, and the 1 roomie is still tripping just as hard as ever. By that night we call the medical advice line and they tell us to get him to a hospital immediately.
They strap him down and I hold his hand while they sedate him. The doctor is an old timer; bald with a beard. He says they don't see it too much any more but in the 60's and 70's it happened all the time.
They next morning, they make him see the psychologist and then release him (even though he's clearly not OK.) Took a week before he acted like himself again. He had to get another job when we got back to college to pay the $500 dollar hospital bill (imagine what that would cost today.) Good times!