Don’t Get Up Too Fast

A couple summers ago I decided to put a little sparkle in my nose. I walked into that store, picked out the stud, and followed the young, tattooed shop girl to the back room. Giddiness flooded my heart.

The room was sterile and the girl, very professional, thorough in her explanation of everything that was going to happen. I was ready. Holding a rod in my nose, I took a deep, even breath and . . . WHAM! it was done.

I should’ve known. My ears began to fill with cotton. The fluorescent lights began to dim. My head began to swim.  “I’m getting dizzy; I think I need to lie down,” I heard myself say. And I sounded far away.

I don’t know how long I laid there, but when I felt it was sufficient enough, I told her I was okay and I was ready to pay. She looked concerned, but lead me back out to the front of the store, taking my word for it. I felt a little wobbly, but exultant–I had a cute little rock in my nose! Yay!

Standing at the counter, while I got the last explanation of piercing care, I felt the wave of nausea and dizziness begin to sweep over me again. I wanted to pay my bill and get out of there, but she just kept talking and I just kept nodding. I no longer heard her words as I begged myself to just keep it together and breath.

Keep breathing, Amanda. Hang on, Hang on. Don’t pass out. Breathe.  I was coaching myself, doing everything I could to stay upright.  With receipt signed, I turned around and sighted the bench outside the store. If I could just make it to that bench, I was certain I would be fine, but I only made it as far as doorway, where I nearly collapsed; dizzy, sweating, and ready to pass out.

I’m afraid of needles. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. I’ve passed out getting vaccinations, giving blood, and nearly lost it having a small out-patient procedure done on my foot, so I should’ve known better. But . . . you know.

Here’s the thing, what happened to me when I got my nose pierced is what  people do over and over when tragedy strikes.

We get up too fast.

We don’t want to be a bother.

We don’t want to inconvenience those around us with our burdens and griefs.

We want to walk out with our heads held high and our prides intact.  Put on a happy face and make the world go away.  If only it were that simple and recovery that quick.

In truth, I should’ve just waited in that sterile back room for a good 15 minutes or so and allowed my friends, who were waiting for me to keep waiting. I wrongly assessed myself and ended up as a sweaty puddle at the entrance of the store for the entire mall crowd to see.

It is okay to take time away for yourself when you’ve found yourself face to face with divorce papers. It is entirely more-than-fine to adjust your routine when diagnosed with illness. Another miscarriage.  The loss of a loved one.  A job loss.  It is necessary to not worry about semblance of order and others’ “comfort” when you are fighting to stay upright.   Lie down.  Breathe deep.  Take it slowly.

Don’t Get Up Too Fast!

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One Response to “Don’t Get Up Too Fast”
  1. Judy says:

    Some days I just can not wait for bed time, then I don't have to "act" and hold it all together for anyone, I can just lay there and breath….
    Thank you so much for your wisdom.. You are a blessing!

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