Monday, March 06, 2006


If I drank, I think I'd be a real lightweight. Seriously, a couple sips of wine cooler, and I'd be down for the count. I formed this hypothesis after an experience with some possibly post-expiration date cough syrup the other night. Please understand, I was desperate. After coughing up at least one (and possibly both) of my lungs, all the while feeling like my throat had had a recent run-in with a blow torch, I needed something to put me out of my misery. I found a bottle of generic Tussin something-or-other in the back of the medicine cabinet, and took a swig. A few minutes later I was so dizzy that I barely made it back to bed without falling into several walls. It did stop my cough, though, so there are no complaints here.

This brings me to my next, sort-of-related question: Have you ever fainted? I'm talking truly losing consciousness and dropping to the floor. I've come close a few times (the first was when I saw my brother's hand after he'd had an accident with a power tool - I learned the meaning of tunnel vision at that moment)(and why I'd never have made it as a surgeon), but I've only fainted once.

Less than a year ago, I awoke in the middle of the night with crazy, evil stomach cramps. I lay there, willing them to go away, trying to figure out from whence they came (that new Chinese place I'd been to for lunch? Avian flu?), but finally decided to get up and get some water. I made it to the kitchen with the lights off (didn't want to needlessly assault my senses or wake up the hubby), and poured myself a glass. I stood there sipping water and taking deep breaths, and finally decided to try to go back to bed. As I headed out of the kitchen, I suddenly felt really dizzy, and remember thinking: "I need to sit down RIGHT NOW." The next thing I knew I was flat on my back, the lower half of my body still in the kitchen, and the upper half in the living room. The water I'd had in my hand was seeping into the carpet and my hair, and the inside of my arm really hurt. Because it was dark, I was completely disoriented. Why was my hair all wet? What was I looking at? (Answer: the ceiling fan.) I lay there for a few minutes trying to comprehend what had just happened, and eventually got up on my hands and knees and crawled back to the bedroom to find Steve sleeping peacefully. How comforting that my fall hadn't awakened him . . .

I somehow managed to sleep, and when I woke up in the morning I could hear Steve in the other room. I got out of bed, and was a few inches from the bedroom door when I felt so dizzy I had to drop to the floor. It was there that Steve found me a few minutes later: lying in the middle of the bedroom. After he ascertained that I was still alive, his next words were: "What the heck happened to your arm?" I looked down and discovered that the inside of my left arm was scraped from elbow to shoulder, and the whole thing was black and blue.

As I lay on the couch later that morning, Steve became a Crime Scene Investigator. I sipped my ginger ale, and he went into the kitchen to try to reenact a fall that would explain the gash on my arm. I wished I'd had some of that montage music they always play on CSI, but I was proud that he didn't even need fancy equipment, fingerprint powder, or a gun to figure out what had happened to me. He simply questioned the witness (me), and used his own body to reenact the crime by falling several times in several different ways. Through this (sometimes painful) process of deduction, he was able to ascertain what had happened.

It's nice to know that, although he may sleep through my fainting spells, he can reenact them for me later with amazing accuracy.


~j. said...

I think I fainted once, but it was only for a few seconds. I was in middle school, and I was doing this wrestler's 3-day diet (with my brother - to support him) and on the bus ride home, the bus slid on ice and landed in a huge ditch. The bus was at an angle, and when we all stood up to load onto the "rescue bus", I was so dizzy (I presume from the stupid diet) that I fell and was out for a sec or two. I remember my face being on the cold window, and then this guy carried me off the bus. No unexplained bruises, though...

AzĂșcar said...

I live life with unexplained bruises. I have no idea where they come from (somniatic retribution from Joe?) and frankly, it's more fun NOT to know.

I've fainted a few times:
1. Tried to get up after having wisdom teeth taken out and went right down
2. My first time giving blood (not at the sight, at the instant anemia.)
3. I hit my head on a cabinet door while standing up from unloading the dishwasher.

Times I have not fainted:
1. Seeing nearly severed appendages
2. Scraping my knee to the bone
3. Childbirth
4. Removing large pieces of glass out of J's foot (and consequent blood flow)

May I make a suggestion? Lose the corset, worked for me.

Emily said... did you get the bruise?

Emmie said...

Steve deduced that I must have grabbed the edge of the counter to brace myself (don't remember doing it), and it scraped along my arm as I fell. If he'd been a real CSI, he could have searched the counter for skin samples or something.

La Yen said...

I haven't ever fainted, but I've been dying to. Sometimes I try to sleep with the back of my hand over my head so that it looks to W like I might have fainted, and then he can wave salts under my nose or something. (I have been reading Anne of Green Gables again.)

Layt said...

I still think this is very appropriate. You sure Stu didn't cause those bruises? I know he was probably asleep when he did it (his usual M.O.) and therefore not responsible, but there's no need to cover up for him.

lisa v. clark said...

I fainted once in a BYU class. I was standing up in the back of that much-deglected Jesse Knight Humanities building (no windows and ventilation for the HUMANITIES! We wouldn't want the heart and SOUL of the university to have perks like the great and spacious BUSINESS or LAW building--don't get me started, don't even. . .) and I hit my head on the cinderblock wall and knocked over a metal trash can. VERY discreet. Of course, being BYU, everyone, including my professor, thought I must be pregnant. I wasn't.

Hlay said...


Emmie said...

I love that everyone's first conclusion was that you must be pregnant. Welcome to BYU! Also, I hear ya on the Humanities unfairness. My dad had the same office in the JKHB for over 40 years, and it was roughly the size of a postage stamp...