I wouldn't say, necessarily, that I'm prone to fainting, but I will say that I have fainted about 4-5 times over the course of my life. Enough times, now, that I can recognize the pre-fainting signs to avoid the unconscious and dangerous face-plant. I have mastered the faint when once the faint mastered me.
For example, the other night, while enjoying my dinner alone in my in-laws' kitchen, I recognized the tell-tale signs. I was sitting, which was weird, because fainting doesn't usually occur until I'm on my feet. I was eating a salad and enjoying a few sips of wine while watching Countdown With Keith Olberman. I had just worked out.
So...for those of you who have never experienced fainting, the experience progresses as such: First, you get dizzy and light-headed; second, you get nauseous; third, you break out in a cold sweat; fourth, you experience a sudden need to poo; and then, finally, you wake up (with any luck) staring up at a very concerned face. And, then, when you can stand or crawl, you make your way to the bathroom to take care of the sudden need.
Well, I was alone (and pregnant!) in my in-laws' kitchen, which has very hard ceramic tile floors. But, luckily, I'm an experienced passer-outer, so once I reached the "need to poo" stage, I knew to lie down on the floor on my side so that the blood missing from my brain could get there. Well, I did this, but I had to poo, so I went to the bathroom to take care of "my business." While taking care of my business, I felt as though I was going to faint again. I had to stop in the middle of what I was doing and lie down on the bathroom floor to prevent fainting while on the toilet. Again, hard floors, and my skull alone in the house. Bad combo. Happily, my fainting spells passed, and I was able to get up, finish my business with most of my dignity intact (small bonus of being alone in the house). And then I drank water and made sure that Scooter was still whirling around in my belly.
What is the moral of my story? No matter how bad the heartburn gets, even if I feel like I could spit acid as if it were venom, I need to drink my water, and I need to keep my blood sugar up. Dehydration and pregnancy do not good bedfellows make.
And, as for dignity...it's not really *for* pregnant ladies, anyway...
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I experienced this tell-tale progression while in a compound filled with drunk Peace Corps volunteers in Mauritania. I was alone, sick, in a dark room, attempting to sleep it off, while a party raged on outside. Dizzy and urge-to-poo do not compliment each other well, as you know, but I had had giardia enough to know that there was no choosing to hold it. No one noticed as I feverishly made my way across the sand yard towards the outside. Fortunately (or un...), many people did noticed when I collapsed and shit my shorts in the middle of the yard. Happily, drunk friends seemed more eager to help than sober friends would have, yet I echo your sentiment: Dignity is not really *for* Peace Corps volunteers, either.
ReplyDelete(Frantically catching up on the blog as your due date rapidly approaches!)