I was not planning to write three posts on this book, the third will be posted tomorrow. And really The Gone-Away World only got that many because I didn't want anyone to feel cheated from the infamous "terrible cover" post ... sounds like a Sherlock Holmes novel. Sherlock Holmes and the Terrible Cover Post. Anyway, this is set in Victorian times and those upright and proper ladies are always going on about fainting at the slightest provocation. I've never really experienced fainting, and passing-out-drunk has only occurred once or twice and not within recent memory.
Well, I've passed out now, as of yesterday. I try to make a point of giving blood, and I've done so maybe 6-7 times at this point, possibly more. I don't know what was different about today, maybe the fact that I didn't eat enough and it's been hot and whatever else I've done wrong with my body. Luckily I was at the end of my donating when I passed out so they got a full pint of tasty O neg., which I know they desperately need. I now understand why fainting women are always shown with a hand against their forehead, because that is exactly what I ended up doing. One minute I was fine, then my vein started to sting, I got dizzy and slightly nauseous. Next thing I know there are five* people standing over me and they're covering me with a tissue sheet and pulling partitions around my blood-givin' lawn-chair-cot. I asked what happened, and my voice sounded really weird and echo-y inside my head. They told me I passed out.
And I wet myself.
I am aware of the physiology that happens when you pass out, and I understand why it happens and that it just does. But damn you body, you're supposed to be better than that. However, the Red Cross team treated me very kindly, with great dignity and respect. I did not feel shame, nor do I now, over what happened. I'm a little upset, yes, but that's mostly because I have other things going on right now and having an extra shot of adrenaline or whatever happens after you pass out and wake back up does not help with stabilizing emotions. I'm just glad that the people at Red Cross are fabulous and wonderful. They can take my blood any day. I just hope this is more of a one-time experience, because I don't really care much for the idea of wetting myself in public, even if it is for a good cause.
In other bladder related news: I found out that my dad has bladder cancer. He caught it very early, it's very treatable, and he should be fine. There is a high chance of it reoccurring, especially since he probably won't stop smoking, but he should be fine. It's just one more thing for me to deal with right now, and I'm getting very good at dealing.
Anyway, go give blood. If you wet yourself you'll get a t-shirt and scrub pants. And even extra cookies.
*I was not actually lucid enough to count at that point, but it was certainly more than three.