When I was in 4th grade, we were given some math problem to do. The idea was to see who could get it done the fastest. We were told to stand up as soon as we were done.
I was pretty good at math, and somewhat competitive. So as soon as I had it done I jumped up... and banged my knee, really hard, on the underside of my desk.
The next thing I knew, it was morning, and I seemed to be coming out of a dream, since I could hear voices, and I was trying to wake up.
Then I could hear my teacher's voice: "John Enright. Get up off that floor this instant!"
There I was, out like a light, probably by vasovagal reaction, and I was getting yelled at for clowning around. I'm not sure anyone in the class ever believed me that I had really suffered from syncope. Such is the cost of being a class cut-up. No one believes it when you do a pratfall for real.
I was reminded of this by stellavision's recent faint. At least she had witnesses - and her boyfriend actually caught her!
Syncope's a fancy word.
In medicine, it's when you faint.
In poetry, it's when there ain't
A sound that's usually heard.
Either way, you briefly miss:
A syllable... or consciousness.
No comments:
Post a Comment