A: When I was
younger I used to faint a lot. Not the once, twice, maybe three times a year
deal that I get now, but often, once a month maybe, not that it ever followed a
schedule. The first time I clearly remembering fainting was when I was walking
into my parents’ room in the morning and I banged my elbow on the bedpost and
then I fainted and fell backwards, getting a concussion. My dad had to carry me
to the hospital. I don’t remember much of that visit but I know they gave me
some pretty pictures to color and hooked me up to an IV. I was five – those
were the days when they let you color the cat purple before stabbing your arm
with a needle.
There was
another time in my early childhood that I fainted where my mom was talking
about bee stings and it made me so dizzy I fell backwards off the bench at my
little yellow table. There were so many in elementary school. The first time at
my second elementary school (I don’t remember ever doing it when I was at
P.S.29, God knows why) they all thought I was dead. I did get pretty pale, like
a ghost. Which is ironic considering that I’ve always been pale as a vampire
anyway.
There was a time
in 5th grade in science and my teacher thought I was faking it to
get attention. We were watching this creepy snake documentary where this poor
girl with glasses got paralyzed by snake venom and per the usual, I felt that
wave of dizziness. I’ve always tried to ignore it, my first wave. No, I’m not going to faint. That was a
one-off. Just drink your Gatorade and… That’s one of the biggest lies I’ve
had to tell myself. It never works.
So then I’m
calling to my friends for help and I’m stuck in this greenish haze and my
teacher just tells me to shut up, this isn’t a game. And you would think that
my paper-white skin and my eyes rolling back would tell him that yes, this
isn’t a game. But he doesn’t help me. He, of all people – a science teacher.
Science teachers
have always had a peculiar problem with my fainting episodes. Last year in
science the teacher was telling this story where this boy got almost every part
of him chopped off in an array of horrendous accidents and she kept asking “Is
Sammy alive?” (That happened exactly a week before Sammy’s death – an
unsettling coincidence that one too many people have reminded me of).
I tried to fight
it, that first wave. My palms were sweating. I tried to write in my notebook,
to doodle, to focus on the notebook. I don’t know whether it was because the
boy got hit by a car and I thought of Zander or because surgery is yucky but
then I was desperately begging my friends to save me and I was on the floor
with only a foggy recollection of how I got there and the teacher was patting
my head with a wet towel. As if that’s going to help. As I’ve tried to tell
many a clueless adult, when it’s over, it’s over.
But that wasn’t
the worst in the moment because I did get pushed down the hallway in a
wheelchair. The guilt that would surface the week after would make that
wheelchair moment seem utterly disrespectful.
Getting a cool
towel on the forehead really isn’t bad compared to the number of school nurses
that have tried to subject me to the ancient remedy that is smelling salts.
What’s funny is that they only make me more dizzy. I’ve never passed out again
after doing it once, so really, once I’ve surfaced, they have nothing to worry
about. But they just don’t get it. Out come the smelling salts! Put your head
between your knees even though it makes your head want to explode! Clearly we
know what’s best for you!
My pediatrician
was a fervent supporter of the head-between-the-knees trick which never did me
any good. She could bless me with the term “vasovagal syncope,” knowing that
that changed absolutely nothing. It’s not like there’s a cure. Gatorade is not
some miracle elixir, although she always seemed to think it was. Little did she
know how many people I’ve had to explain it to when they preach to me that
Gatorade is unhealthy. Yes, it’s crap for
the teeth, but it has electrolytes that keep me from fainting. And then
they ask me what electrolytes are and that’s another ten minutes of my day
wasted.
People always
think that because I faint a lot it means I’m afraid of blood or I’ve got a
weak stomach. Not true, not at all. When my mom broke her pinky in the middle
of the street (I barely saved her from getting mowed over by a car) I didn’t
flinch when her finger was oozing a steady stream of blood. And I can go on the
scariest roller coasters without closing my eyes.
B:
Dear Junot Diaz,
One part of Drown that has
been on my mind since I read it is in the Lucero
section on “Aurora” where it says “I’m telling you something. Something about
me. What you should be doing is listening.” I felt, and still do feel, a very
strong connection with that quote. I just feel like there’s so many times where
I’ve tried to tell someone something deeply personal about myself without
directly telling them. I don’t know if that means I’m an attention seeker? But
it’s a nice thought that someone will catch your drift and care enough to ask
more questions and at least now you’ll have someone to talk about it with.
Also, I felt a connection to
Yunior’s vomiting in “Fiesta, 1980.” I think this is because his vomiting
reminded me of my fainting. I’ve had people yell at me to not faint (not my
parents though), as if I have some control over the matter. Yunior and I both
have triggers, and when they appear, there’s little we can do to stop it.
Next, the narrator (I’m presuming
it’s Yunior) in “Drown” and how he thinks of swimming underwater, of almost drowning,
as an escape from reality is something I can relate to. I’ve never been a very
good swimmer. But I’ve always loved swimming underwater, looking up at the
people above, especially when it’s my family and I’ve left them behind. The
first time I could sit crisscross on the bottom of the pool at the YMCA felt
like a tremendous accomplishment. Again, I need to point out the irony: I have
a fainting condition, yet I can hold my breath for very long periods of time.
Thanks for listening,
Mollie
C: Something
interesting/inspiring that we didn’t actually get to go over in class was when
we were discussing “Aurora” and for homework we had to decide whether their
relationship could be considered “okay.” And in my response I said yes because
Diaz is portraying as “bad people” (in that he’s a dealer, she’s a prostitute)
but with “good sides.” They have darkness but they still possess light. I don’t
know if this is relevant at all but I just thought the way he does this is sort
of beautiful. He accentuates the “badness” of these people to the degree that
their “goodness” can only shine through more.
D: Main
theme/thread… definitely fainting and how it’s affected my life. Other little
things pop up but I’m not sure if I want to write about them. I think in a way I could use fainting as a sort of objective correlative,
if I wrote it the right way. Not that I’d necessarily have to… whatever the
case, there’s a lot I could do with it. It’s been a big part of my life thus
far and has had a clear impact on every other aspect of my life. Another thing that popped up was needing attention. Not really sure where that would take me but I should bear it in mind.
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