I feared that it would happen. The memory even popped into my mind yesterday, but I ignored it. Let me set the stage for last night’s story:
We had just arrived home from our first dance lesson of the season. The kids were excited. It was getting late, so we began our bedtime routine initiated by a change into PJs. From Oscar’s room, we all heard a loud crash, then wailing, and “I can’t breathe!” Oscar managed to meet me in the bathroom, and the whole family gathered there. He caught his breath, and through the tears, relayed that he was standing on the edge of his bed, trying to reach something too high for him, the fell along his trash can to the floor. His spine looked awful. His bumpy spine was red.
While my husband responded with our first aid kit, I stood beside Oscar assessing the damage. All of a sudden, a feeling of sickness came over me, and I thought that the sight of Oscar’s wounds had upset my stomach. Was I becoming like my mother? Not able to handle the sight of blood? I began sweating, so I slowly began walking towards the toilet. But that wasn’t it. I wasn’t getting sick. My vision became speckled with black, and my hearing sounded like my family’s voices were echoing, and getting quieter and quieter. I managed to tell my husband that something was wrong. He grabbed a hold of me and led me to a seat on the floor, then ordered Estella to get me a glass of water. This was enough to quiet the crying pain of Oscar, still waiting to be bandaged and nurtured.
The last time I experienced a fainting spell, it was when I was pregnant with Estella. Twice I passed out; once slamming into the kitchen wall at 5:30 in the morning, and a second time in the middle of the night onto my pregnant belly to the floor. My doctors told me that I wasn’t drinking enough water. Since returning to school during the pandemic, wearing a mask all day, and traveling on a cart, I have not been diligent about hydrating. There have been times in the last 6 weeks that I have felt lightheaded and parched, and have snuck a sip of water here and there, but nothing like my body requires.