Hunting for Treasure

So, this evening was the annual treasure hunt for staff of my old school; the parents and I formed a team, my brother and a friend formed another - we don't yet know who won, or which of us did better. This year the route took us to Chippenham, Calne, Cherhill and Avebury. One of the more inspired sections took place at a DT teacher's house - a "know your resistant materials" quiz [nine out of ten] and "ten-minute fashion design using bin-bags and masking tape" [ten out of ten].

Regrettably I showed myself up rather by having one of my trademark attacks of dizziness (low blood pressure?), perhaps the worst yet (or jointly with the last, in Dr. Brosan's lecture, though nobody noticed that one), and probably the most embarrassing. I shall describe anyway, though. The cause was particularly silly - I bit my tongue rather badly whilst eating too fast, at dinner in the pub forecourt. In the next couple of minutes I became aware that my tongue was bleeding fairly freely. Because of the bleeding, or perhaps the awareness, I rapidly proceeded through the usual stages - hot, dizzy, sick, deciding to sit with my head down, deciding to sit on the ground, deciding to lie on the ground (ears full of buzzing so I could hardly hear). I know from experience that that's the way to feel better fastest, so resisted dad's attempts to make me go and sit in the car and insisted on being allowed to lie on the rather dirty cobbles. Being this time surrounded by teachers, rather than in a lecture trying not to let anyone notice what was up, I attracted some attention from concerned individuals. I thank them very kindly and apologise for having bothered them, because I knew there was nothing really wrong with me and feel bad for creating a scene. I was grateful for the teacher who provided a cat cuddly-toy for me to rest my head on though! Felt pretty stupid just lying on the ground... especially for such a trivial reason. But as I expected, over the next half hour I was able to migrate to sitting up on floor, sitting on bench, eating the rest of my dinner. Mum wouldn't let me drive home though, and insisted on driving. I suppose driving after a quarter-pint of cider (it would've been a half but she stopped when it became clear she wasn't going to let me drive!) is excusable in this case!

I'm fine again now of course, perhaps slightly achey and perhaps a little shaky in the limbs - only very slightly though, and come to think of it I think I was already feeling slightly woozy earlier in the day. The tongue doesn't look too badly damaged! - I'm sure such a small wound on an arm would be of little consequence but of course the tongue is a delicate thing. Think it's a bit swollen. I haven't dared try eating anything that needs much manipulation yet.

Erm, hope you enjoyed reading that! I do wonder if there's anything actually wrong with me - I can still only count about half-a-dozen particular attacks of dizziness over fifteen years, though the latest do seem the worst. I suspect it's just a 'weak constitution'; I still maintain strongly that it's not actually a "phobia" of blood or needles or whatever, and cite in my support the fact that the last time I had to lie down after an injection it was several minutes after the event (was totally OK when I had my mumps jab last year, thankfully), and that the time in Dr. Brosan's lecture was caused by the phrase 'electrolyte balance', something I'd never even heard before... Though I do think maybe 'haemophobia' is mis-named, I'm not sure people are actually afraid of blood, they just undergo an appropriate but perhaps excessive autonomic response to it (do they have to see it?).

I talk FAR too much. Wonder what it signifies. If you're wishing I'd just shut up for a while, you're not alone. I do too.