*Quick Note before the story: I’ll be signing books Friday night during Fairhope’s North Pole Stroll at The Fairhope Artist Gallery at 18 S. Section Street from 6-8pm. Stop in, have a snack, say hello and take a look at all the amazing art!
The real spirit of the Christmas season is often hard to find amongst all the commercial blinking and gimmicky things, but this year, I’ve already felt the true meaning of Christmas by being a little bit wobbly.
A year ago, I had a successful heart ablation to treat A-flutter, but since then, I’ve been on different medications to control A-fib. (bless your healthy heart if you said, “but she’s so young!). Anyway, I’m doing fine, but the medications have given me some side effects that make me woozy. My grandmother would say I was “swimmy-headed.”
I’ve learned that when I feel a spell of swooning coming on, I have two choices. #1. Embarrass myself and immediately lay down flat to get blood to my head, or #2. Fight the feeling and experience a violent face-plant. Since my orthodontist has retired, I feel the need to protect my teeth, so I usually opt for laying down as fast as possible on my own.
A few weeks ago, I was signing my new book at the Fall Festival at St. Frances at the Point Anglican Church in Point Clear, AL (there’s the subtle plug for my book you were waiting for). It was a gorgeous day, but I felt a little weak. Sure enough, just as things were gearing up, I felt sick. Most people say they “black out” but I always kind of “grey out.” My vision closes in and I know I have to hit the ground – on my own, and not wait to crash in a heap. Since my staff, who usually carries around my fainting couch, had the day off, I removed my puffy vest and placed it under my head (always protect the hair, even when you think you are dying), and right there in the church yard, . . . please click HERE to continue the story at AL.com.