Midnight Mutterings The best place on Orcas Island for fainting

||| MIDNIGHT MUTTERINGS by JACKIE BATES |||

I don’t have permission to name the place specifically, and you might think you recognize it from my brief description, but your guess might  be wrong. On the other hand you might be right, but not need a place to  faint, but you might want to give a little thought about why you are  wasting your valuable time possibly learning about such a place when you have no need of such a place. If you’re still reading, you many need  more help than is available here…

I’m not much of a fainter in ordinary life, but there was a moment a week or so ago when I thought I might be considering fainting for the first time in many decades. I was on my way to the ferry landing for a trip off island and planned to stop in Eastsound for a snack for the  ferry. I was feeling fine as I walked through the door of the snack  place, but almost immediately, I started to feel a little light-headed, like I might be considering fainting. It was a surprise as it had been such a very long time since I had experienced such a feeling. Instead of  going right for the snacks, I headed for the restroom where I splashed my face with cold water. That left me with a small problem as that particular restroom had no paper towels for my wet face. (Note: I just
looked up restroom to see if it was one word or two and noticed the definition: ‘a bathroom in a public building,’ which is interesting since this one, like most, had no bathing facilities, which was a good  thing or there would have been a lot of wet people wandering around looking for snacks, given the lack of paper towels. Anyway, the cold water made me feel better, but not entirely cured, and I thought I might  like to sit down for a bit. No chairs in the restroom/bathroom, and I wasn’t quite ready for standing/walking around in the larger space.

So I sat on some stairs near the restroom/bathroom, hoping my head would clear in time to buy some snacks (that were losing their appeal by then anyway) and make my way to the ferry.

I had never been up those particular stairs, but think they may lead to some offices as several people headed up and down while I sat on their stairs, trying to pretend I was just having a little sit down. A couple of people inquired about my welfare and I truthfully said I was fine, just feeling a little faint. Someone must have taken my news upstairs, as pretty soon a nice young man stopped and asked if he could help, should he call the paramedics or??? I declined, repeating that I was just feeling faint and would probably be better soon. That I would also dry off soon, assuming that my wet face was telling its own story and that it was probably obvious that I wasn’t crying. I also said that I hadn’t fainted in decades, not since I was pregnant. TMI for sure.

He offered me a banana, which made me feel a little like a monkey, but which was reasonable, in case I was a monkey with low blood sugar. I declined but accepted his offer of water which he brought to me in a paper cup, in case I was dehydrated, which was  also reasonable, though I wasn’t. It was clear to me that I wasn’t likely to actually faint, like when everything goes dark until one eventually wakes up on the  floor or ground having lost a bit of time and a load of dignity in the process. So we chatted a bit, this nice young man and I, exchanged names and circumstances. We had both been on Orcas for years and recognized each other’s names though we agreed we had probably never met even in such a small community. We told each other little stories—he about his childhood on Orcas Island and I told him about my history of fainting many times and in many places during my pregnancies: in doctor’s offices, on sidewalks, in stores and restaurants, many times while watching rehearsals and plays in a small theater in New Hampshire, while my wasband was on stage that first summer. I tried to be discreet, but if I left too soon, I’d faint in the lobby, and if I waited too long I would faint on whomever was sitting next to me. Most everybody knew everybody and the locals got used to my fainting as did I.

I don’t think I told the young man in the snack place this story, but I’m telling you: One notable exception was when my mother-in-law brought several of her friends to meet me in the little house my husband and I rented for the summer. She was already disappointed in me as her family consisted of actors, singers and other musicians and one dancer (herself) and I was an outlier from another (lesser, non-artistic world) and Southern at that. In any case, I served tea to the ladies and excused myself to the bedroom, where I fainted on the bed and when I finally regained consciousness, they were long gone, and not amused by my rudeness. As she explained to me, she never fainted or suffered nausea (another of MY shortcomings) during pregnancy and didn’t really believe I couldn’t control my body better. But, alas, I could not and continued my poor behavior when we all moved to Detroit (husband and I to the city and his parents to the posh suburbs). Where they had frequent  soirees in their lovely home with the two grand pianos, with fairly famous  (though I hadn’t heard of most of them) musicians who were passing through and other artists and a lot of alcohol, which I couldn’t drink given my nausea. (This was before it was known to be  dangerous to fetal health, and once again, I disappointed my MIL, who suggested I, at least, hold a glass of something with ice and look more friendly.)

While I didn’t know musicians, I did know a little more about writers, and at one of the gatherings, I met a woman who told me she had just had a book accepted for publication only after she gave the mother of the son who committed suicide ample motivation for his act. She had wanted it the other way: that it was inexplicable, but the publishers thought otherwise. Somehow I remembered her name and the name of the book when it, and later the movie, came out. She was Judith Guest, and the book/movie was Ordinary People. At these gatherings, I usually had enough warning that I was going to faint that I could escape to a bedroom, to be located later by my tolerant husband, before my MIL realized I was MIA.

Same with my second pregnancy, which was in Chapel Hill where I fainted in class, at work, at home, and again, doctors’ offices, and on the sidewalk.

So my advice here is if you are feeling a little lightheaded, go for the snack place, cool your face in the restroom and sit on the steps and perhaps that nice young man will find you, offer you a banana and a cup of water and trade stories for a few minutes. As for me, I’m assuming my recent experience is a one time thing, not to be repeated in this lifetime. Unless, of course, I AM pregnant.