Fainting is a trippy experience
plus memories of St. Louis
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Dear friend —
If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to faint in the middle of a crowded restaurant, I can tell you — because I have mastered this trick!
Mastered may be a bit of an exaggeration because I’ve only done it once — but I did it well. This was back in June, while I was still in Brooklyn. One Thursday night I met my college friend Alison for dinner in Williamsburg, ate fish and chips, drank a glass of sparkling chenin blanc. Then, just as we were getting ready to leave, I broke out in a cold sweat. “I feel weird,” I remember telling Alison. Starting to get up, I suddenly passed out.
Fainting is a trippy experience, mainly because you can’t remember it. The before and the after, yes, those moments you’ll recall. But the actual moment you pass out, and the period during which you’re passed out — those don’t exist in your memory, not even as blank spaces. You’ll lose them entirely, like someone took an editing tool and snipped a chunk out of your time-space continuum —
When I came to, I was sitting where I’d been sitting but a stranger had me by the shoulders. “Are you okay?” she asked urgently, followed by other questions. I think I said I was fine, though I was still woozy. What had just happened? And who was this woman? Was it Alison? I couldn’t tell. There were a couple other people hovering around that I recognized as restaurant staff. One brought me ice water, another orange juice.
“Do you want to lay down?” the woman asked. “Is there a place I can lie down?” I asked hopefully. “Here,” she said, pointing to the bench I was sitting on.
I stretched out on it. Soon after, I started feeling better. Alison was recognizable to me again. Apparently I’d been out for about 20 seconds, during which time Alison had yelled out, “I need some help over here!” which had brought the wait staff running. She’s an obstetrics nurse and used to seeing people pass out — but that’s usually because they’ve just given birth.
Alison walked me home, then texted instructions: “Please take good care of yourself! Lots of frequent healthy snacks! Protein with carbs to keep your blood sugar balanced.”
I texted my sister, a medical doctor, about it. Her advice was this: “Don’t stand up if you feel woozy / lightheaded.”
My sister’s medical advice — which I seek often — is often so practical as to be deflating. Once, I went through a phase where I got a stomachache whenever I ate eggs. I texted my sister: What does this mean? Why is this happening? Was it possible I’d developed an allergy to eggs, or some bigger overarching health problem — and more importantly, what should I do about this?
Her response: “If eating eggs give you stomachaches, stop eating eggs.”
I stopped eating eggs for a while. When I started again, my stomach was fine.
A couple weeks ago I stopped in St. Louis and finally got to see my sister in person for the first time in years. We live very different lives. She’s been married for over a decade and lives in a gigantic house with not only a library and a home gym but also an ornate ballroom on the third floor. She has two kids — three and seven — who are both adorable and a lot smarter than I was at their ages. Nora, in second grade, recently placed third in her school spelling bee; first and second place winners were both in sixth grade. Owen, the younger one, has somehow already acquired a vast knowledge of the plant and animal kingdoms — apparently from nature shows on PBS — and will point out meerkats and honey badgers in picture books.
This was my first time meeting Owen — he gave me a picture of a rainbow as a parting gift. Since then, I’ve been a bit obsessed with the phenomenon of childhood amnesia. Unless I keep in better touch, or maybe even if I do, Owen will forget me entirely, the memory of our time together will exist only for me.
This seems sad though inevitable…. I wonder about the people I met in childhood, people who were kind to me, people I spent a lot of time with — of whom I have no recollection….
Time rolls on unrelentingly. I’m proud to say I have not passed out in public since that June incident. I think drinking more water and eating fewer gummy bears has helped, though to be honest, I still feel woozy or lightheaded — what I call “fainty” — pretty often. I’ve been this way all my life. My blood pressure’s on the low side — a blessing (no fear of eating too much salt) and a curse (frequent fear of fainting).
That said, I’ve gotten a bit better about not attempting to stand up when I feel fainty —
What’s your earliest childhood memory?
Love,
Siel
Three links you might love
My sister’s a neurologist and sleep expert. You may have heard or read about her work on NPR, CNN, and The New York Times. We have grand plans of writing a book on sleep together but haven’t actually done anything to actualize that nebulous goal.
My new fave TV show: Physical — featuring a beautiful woman who seems to have a perfect life — but is a wreck inside. Physical hasn’t received the best reviews but gets a rave from me for its unflinching (if stylized) look at bulimia — the tragic, painful, yet also comforting cycle of it. The Atlantic says the show is a “reminder that making people hate their body is a thriving pillar of American commerce.”
The best way to succeed as a female artist is to be old. “The ‘genius’ artist has toiled away for years until she is finally found or discovered by the boys’ club. Unsurprisingly, there is often no discussion of the forces of exclusion faced by the female artist.”
running around a cemetery