During the depression my Dad would go out and collect mushrooms, not morels, the other kinds ( this was in Staten Island) He prepared them according to the local lady that taught him how to forage. They had them for dinner that night, and he had gotten a teeny piece of a bad shroom, he felt light headed and went to the bathroom thinking he was gonna get sick, but he passed out. He was sick on and off for years. When we were kids and went to places that had huge crowds - like church for instance - he would always stand in the back so if he felt weirdness coming on he could just scoot out the door into the fresh air.
It took a LONG TIME for him to completely recover. Just be careful out there.