Prozac in my Cheerios

Fainting

I have a long, sordid relationship with fainting.

The first time I remember fainting was in a doctor's office. I was about  four years old and had recently recovered from mono. I was getting a booster shot, and evidently had a bad reaction to whatever they gave me. I can't remember much--the memory is hazy--but I will never forget how terrified I was. I had no idea what was happening to me. The room was spinning violently; so violently, that I couldn't tell who was my mother and who was the nurse. I remember screaming, crying over and over again for my mother; even though they were hovering right over me, I couldn't tell who was who. 

That was faint #1. 

I fainted again when I was in the third grade. We had been running around in gym class like mongooses on speed, and for some reason, the gym teachers decided it would be a great idea to wrap up the class with some deep yoga style breathing. Well, I was still out of breath, and my poor brain wasn't getting enough oxygen, so I passed out right in front of everybody.

I don't remember hitting the floor. My first memory is waking up in a wheelchair on my way to the nurse's office. My mother was called and had to pick me up. After this episode, I was so anxious about passing out again, that I actually got permission to "sit out" gym class for the rest of the year. I was not a fan of gym, so this was not a big loss for me.

That was faint #2.

The next time I fainted was in middle school during science class. The teacher was getting into a very detailed discussion of anatomy, and I started to not feel well--I didn't realize what was happening. However, as shy and afraid of drawing attention to myself as I was, all I could muster was weakly raising my hand and  mumbling the teacher's name.

And I passed out again.

Then a dream? Basketball. Why am I dreaming about basketball?

The next thing I knew, I was laying vertically, my science teacher's face inches from my own. I was bewildered. Disoriented. I hadn't fully regained consciousness yet, and I had no idea what the hell was going on.

That was faint #3. Faint #3 changed my life. 

This was the first time I fainted because I had been "grossed out" by something. Up until this point, my fainting had been due to some specific external event that I had some control over.

But now, my own mind had caused me to lose consciousness. Once I realized that a reaction to a thought could cause me to lose control of my body, the recurrent panic attacks began. And they got steadily worse. So much worse.

I had always been sensitive and squeamish. But like most normal people, if something grossed me out, I could dismiss the thought and move on. But now, gross stuff was all I could think about it. And if I couldn't re-focus my mind, I would start to feel light-headed. And when I felt light-headed, I realized I could be about to faint.

Cue panic attack. And another. And another. To the point I had panic attacks all day long and couldn't leave the house. 

It's like somebody telling you, "Don't think about pink elephants." Well, now all you can think about is pink elephants, right? And what if I told you dwelling on those pink elephants could make you lose consciousness? Maybe in a public place? Now you're at Defcon 1. 

To this day, I have never met anybody with this problem. I recently did a google search, and supposedly there are other people out there, but I don't know how much comfort that brings.

To illustrate, there is an online community of adults that like to wear diapers and sleep in cribs. Does that make it normal? You tell me.

Sometimes people ask "Why didn't you get help?" As I mentioned in prior chapters, I did get pulled out of school, and I did go on medication, and I did see doctors. But I don't think any of them truly understood what I was dealing with.

They labeled me with OCD because I had intrusive and obsessive thoughts. But obsessive thoughts that can trigger fainting is another matter entirely. 

The only coping methods I remember my doctors teaching me were 1) deep breathing exercises (because I had such fond memories of deep breathing exercises in gym) and 2) putting a rubber band on my wrist, snapping it, and saying "STOP IT."

I think that's when my current sarcastic personality took shape. I remember just looking at my doctor and thinking "you have got to be ****ing kidding me" (I don't know if I thought that swear word at that age, but I can't say with 100% certainty I didn't).

I gradually found that the only way I could cope was to re-direct my thoughts to something very similar, but different enough that it didn't freak me out. I have a very vivid imagination, so this is not easy for me to do. 

And just in case you're not familiar with the mechanism of fainting, it's your body's way of protecting you from brain damage. Fainting is caused by Vasovagal Syncope. A nerve causes your blood pressure to suddenly drop, which quickly descreases the blood flow to your brain. The blood pools in your legs, and you pass out. Once you pass out, hopefully you're in a reclining position, and this should (hopefully) get the oxygenated blood flow back to your brain as quickly as possible.

I've become very familiar with the sensations leading up to a faint. And the reason it freaks me out so much is I feel like I'm dying. I KNOW I'm not dying, but I can feel my heart rate and blood pressure plummet; I can feel the blood leaving my brain--the accompanying confusion that comes with it. I can see the edges of my vision getting narrower, a tunnel closing in, going black, and finally becoming static in the short seconds leading up to fainting. 

I had a good run after middle school. I didn't faint again until my mid-20s when I finally had blood drawn (I had managed to go about 15 years without a single lab). And contrary to what I was always told, you CAN faint lying down. I know this because I was lying down flat when the needle went in. Didn't work. I still fainted.

And let me tell you, I really tried to be prepared. I paced outside the room. I drank cup after cup of water. I brought my CD player so I could distract myself with music. I told the nurses I had to lay down. I turned my head and closed my eyes...

The fun part of fainting; when somebody wakes you up, you have no idea what happened. You don't remember where you are or how you got there.

I regained consciousness; A nurse was in my face, in the light, in a tunnel. "I'm in the ER" was my immediate thought. "I've been in a car accident and I'm mangled in the ER." I screamed. The scream immediately transitioned to a sob as I realized what had happened.

I think the whole nursing staff was in that office.

It was a long time before I went back to the lab.

But then my employer blackmailed me.

Several years later, my health insurance suddenly required an annual "wellness exam." A doctor's visit was required along with, you guessed it, lab work. Anybody skipping this step would now be penalized with a $500 increase in their insurance premium.

I realized with dread that I had no choice. I would have to somehow conquer my fear of the lab.

To be continued....