Kung Fu

[azurelunatic]

Donated plasma again. Didn't pause to rest on my way out: mistake. Came close to blacking out when walking down street towards bus stop. Eyes started dimming, sounds started fading out. Wondered if I was going to die; Willed myself not to. Sat down at bus stop on wrong side of street. Finally managed to gather the strength to walk inside the closest door, the kung fu dojo. Waited for vision to clear. When it did, I appreciated the artistry and grace of the old woman and the kid practicing what I think they were calling "Crane And Tiger" until I regained my strength. Came home. Will be collapsing in short order, having washed my face, gotten myself what I need to drink, and changed into a nightgown.

Never going to ever just jump up again.

Amusingly, I was warned: when reading the cards, read the cards, woman!

Feeling far better.

Comments

you too?

[boojum.livejournal.com]

{Eyes dimming and sounds fading out} is a strong hint from my body that it's about to throw up. You were probably close to fainting, if your body's more normal about such things.

I haven't donated blood in a while, but the first time I felt fine until I went back to my dorm room and started jumping on the bed. Bye bye, stamina!

I am going to respond to the religion email. I'm just being a lazy ass.

Me too...

[azurelunatic]

I know my body's pass-out responses better than I probably ought, given my earlier problems with blood pressure, forgetting to eat, and standing up too fast. Then, it would almost invariably happen fast, and I'd find myself on the floor waking up as my head hit from standing and seeing and hearing the world fading out.

It was very disconcerting to feel my limbs losing power, my stomach knotting up (specifically, my abdominal muscles trying to hold me upright and not quite succeeding), my eyes dimming and purplish in view, my ears muffled, without seeing the fireworks that usually accompany passing out, without the usual clarity of thought, and with nowhere close to run to shelter.

It's terrifying to know that you're looking like a drunk person staggering down the sidewalk, and that you don't think anyone will help you, and when you do sit down at the bus stop and try and ask someone to help you walk into the building that's a mere twenty-thirty feet away, they don't speak English, and you no hable español.

It was more terrifying than when my voice would cut out with Mona, because I could always indicate my throat and shake my head. I was wearing long sleeves, so my elbow wasn't visible with the telltale bandage, so I just looked drugged and/or crazy.

I survived, though.

If it had been cooler out there, I think I would have had far less of a problem. The humidity may have been a factor as well.