This morning I got out of bed, I do this most morning (and some afternoons). Often after getting out of my bed (or in this case a borrowed bed for a month, a borrowed single bed with a shitty plastic covered mattress (not actually shitty, it wiped off easy), urgh. Often the first thing I do when getting out of a bed is go to the toilet.
Today was no different.
I sat on the toilet
I was there for a minute or do doing my business, as is my wont, when I had the unmistakeable feeling of beng about to pass out. I have fainted a couple of times in my life and so know the feeling, and also know that it’s not nice, like a thousand tiny moths in my head trying to make me take off then as I hit the lightbulb fall to my death.
I had to avoid this happening, I knew I was about to slump, I didn’t want to fall on the hard bathroom floor (bathroom, but no bath – crazy Scottish). So thought it best to outwit the moths.
What I needed to do was to outflank the faint and get to the floor before it got me to the floor. If I was a Risk fan I’d have gotten out my dice, but I’m not so I didn’t.
Instead I peeled myself off the toilet and rolled gently to the floor.
But the opposing Moth army got the better of me and I blacked out between toilet and floor. I woke up before I hit the floor, but by now I was merely a passenger and I observed my head hitting the floor, connecting just above my eye.
I got up seconds later, back onto the toilet then into a standing position to finish my toilet business, as is my wont. A Tom & Jerry type lump was forming. I decinded to head back to bed. In the hallway I could feel myself fainting again, this time I got to the floor before I did, and just lay in the hallway. The fuzzy nastiness carried on as I was there lying in my pants in a student halls of residence hallway somewhere in Edinburgh. When you feel ill out of control for a sustained period I think it’s perfectly normal and not at all paranoid to convince yourself you are about to die. So I did (convince myself that is), now I’m in a flat surrounded by comedians, I guess it should be an entertaining death, figured it would be best if I was found fucking the radiator, but I didn’t have the energy and so instead crawled back to bed.
When I woke up later that afternoon I was concussed and had a big black eye forming. I went to check ticket sales, thankfully none, so I cancelled the show and did no flyering and went back to bed.
Ah, bed.