No, this post title was not alluding to some theological teaching about what to do when you’re faint of heart or something like that. It’s about how I fainted today. So original, right? 🙂
I am getting an allergy test done to check for 200 different possible foods that I might be sensitive to. I don’t think I have as-bad of reactions to gluten now (throat closing up, short of breath, stomach cramping, incessant burping), but I still have other symptoms that I think are related to my diet. For three weeks I eliminated gluten, dairy, and tree nuts, and did a 7-day cleanse (by Arbonne), but I didn’t see a lot of improvement.
Some of my friends did a food sensitivity test through our shared chiropractor, so I figured it would be a great time to try it! It’s expensive, but what’s more important than your health? Before recommending it, my doctor suggested that I try a digestive enzyme first; if that was the cause, it would only be $30/month as opposed to paying hundreds of dollars for the test. If it worked, I would see a difference in a few days, and feel a lot better – no matter what I ate – after about a week.
No luck, so I ordered the test.
Since it’s so expensive, they have a phlebotomist come to your house to take the blood samples, as well as give you a free consultation with a nutritionist (and my chiropractor throws in a free follow-up appointment as well).
Since Whit is in-between cars right now (a story for another day!), he waited on me to have the test done, which was supposed to be about ten minutes, so we could go in to work together and only be about an hour late. He got a head start on work while I waited for the guy to show up.
Fifteen minutes after his scheduled time, I hear a knock on the door and open it to a tall man carrying a giant, wet umbrella and a big black duffel bag. I lead him to the kitchen table and get out the package of vials and papers that was delivered to my house before I even scheduled the appointment.
He commented on my huge veins and I assured him that I don’t mind having my blood drawn. He said I would feel a pinch, and as I diverted my eyes I told myself “it feels good!” A vial or two filled with blood and I felt a really sharp pinch – much more painful than a typical needle. I gulped and announced my onset of wooziness by sharing that I feel like I might pass out. Not that I know what passing out feels like, but I often feel lightheaded and black out a little bit if I stand up too fast or ride an upside-down roller coaster.
He continues talking to me, and I shift uncomfortably in chair, thinking “I normal ease this lightheaded feeling by sitting down, but I’m already sitting so what can I do?” I state that I think I’m about to pass out. He remains calm and asks me to hold the cotton ball over the used vein. Whit had walked by a minute before, so he casually asked me, “Who was that man?” Oh, that’s my husband. “What’s his name?” Whit. He calls Whit over, and then I’m dreaming.
Hazily, I blink my eyes open to see a large, loud man in front of me, asking if I’m coming back. I muster, “Yeah, I’m coming back,” but really I just close my sleepy eyes again to rest my head. From behind me, Whit holds a straw with yellow liquid over my lips. I open my mouth as if to sip. They encourage me to drink the bright medicinal substance.
As I come to, I realize I had just passed out – who knows for how long? Ten minutes? An hour? And take more sips of what I now understand is mountain dew. The hospital-grade giant straw came from my water bottle which I hand-washed and placed next to the sink an hour before.
They talk to me and encourage me that drinking the sugary soda will help me wake up. Ready to feel like I’m conscious again, I believe them, and force myself to take bigger sips. I feel Whit’s flannel-shirted arm rub my shoulders and hold on to me tightly. Comforted, I try to engage by asking questions and telling them how I was feeling. My right hand was tingly, and my arm was numb as if I was having a panic attack, though I didn’t have any fear.
I started feeling more like myself again, and made fun of myself for being so confident that I was good with needles.
Still shivery, I made my way to the couch with the assistance of my helping husband, who I am so thankful was home with me, and who turned on the rest of Harry Potter from the night before and brought me gluten-free Joe-Joe’s, which I had permission to eat as many as I wanted of!
It was more of an adventure than I was expecting for Monday morning, but at least now I know what it feels like to pass out – nothing to be afraid of. 🙂 And I got to eat cookies and soda for brunch, and watch a movie before going to work.
P.S. I feel much better now!