|
|
2002-08-29
6:49 p.m.
When I was in first grade I got my first taste of mind-altering activity. We were making blow-paintings. My petite teacher handed out skinny coffee-stirrer straws and instructed us to move blobs of tempera paint around not with direct contact but by blowing the paint around the paper with air through the straws. I blew the paint into random splatters with vigor for a few minutes and then stopped to look up at my teacher for encouragement. When I looked up however all I saw was that red-black curtain you see right before you�re about to pass out. I had no idea what was going on and the sounds in the room took on an underwater tone. I didn�t fall over and I was able to gather myself and ask Miss M about my painting. I tried to recreate that lightheaded feeling for the rest of craft time. I haven�t been able to shake a similar near-pass-out feeling since this morning�s pulmonary function test. The feeling isn't as novel nowadays. The test lasts about twenty minutes. You have to sit there wearing an obscene large and disposable nose plug with your mouth over an enormous rubber mouthpiece while you wait for instructions from the technician. Some sections of the test involve deep inhalation and some super fast and heavy breathing. It�s really quite a sight and I thought the whole time it would be a great place for a hidden camera especially if the camera was focused only on a close up section of the test-taker. The viewer wouldn�t know what the hell was going on. The tech cheers you on to breath �Deeper!� push out the air �Harder!� �More! More!� It would be extra awkward if you didn�t have to concentrate so much on doing your best to show that your lungs are perfectly fine thank you, not to mention the extra effort to not pass out. Sheew-wee. After the last test that involved me taking a huge breath and then holding it for eight seconds before I blasted it out with all my might, the tech told me that it looks like I was �Holding up just fine.� �No change?� I asked. She shook her head and said, �The Bleo hasn�t gotten to you yet.� And it probably won�t. I have my second to last treatment tomorrow. I am nauseas just thinking about it though.
huh? - 2004-01-15 resolutions - 2004-01-09 video reason - 2003-12-30 sik - 2003-12-06 voiceless - 2003-11-19
|
