Dear Dead Bird

Dear Dead Bird

I am sorry you have left this world,

not just because you will never fly again,
but because this world you have left
is full of cruelty and anguish
created by beings who should know better...

Thank you for living a life of true freedom...

a selfless life where you took only what you needed to survive.
Were I a coral polyp or a dandelion seed, I might know such freedom.

But alas, I have been blessed with a great imagination...
I can imagine a peaceful rally in Ankara...

a heroic father in Beirut...

mourners at a funeral in Baghdad...

the love of a couple at a concert in Paris...

students strolling through a Kenyan university.

But my imagination falters...
...at the complete...
...lack of empathy...
...needed to end the lives of...
innocents

I may not have the answers,
But I'll sing my song in the hope that, one day,
men and women will walk on this earth

with the same dignity

with which birds fly 

***

“A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.” 

~ Maya Angelou

“Man can now fly in the air like a bird, swim under the ocean like a fish, he can burrow into the ground like a mole. Now if only he could walk the earth like a man, this would be paradise.” 

~ Tommy Douglas

Dr. Faintsalot: or How I Learned to Stop Standing and Love the Floor

Abstract

Some experiences take you to new places. Others take you to alternative forms of consciousness. Or in my case, unconsciousness.

Introduction

I am a highly sensitive person (HSP) with a low tolerance for real or imagined pain. Sometimes, I get so overwhelmed that I zone out and forgo my basic needs. In addition, I am prone to anxiety-driven vasovagal syncopes. When I go to a doctor, it might not only be my worst nightmare, but also theirs.

Methods

Be dehydrated and/or low on sugar.

Freak out about something minor.

Forget to breathe.

Results

Places where I’ve nearly fainted: check up room, blood draw room, middle school clinic, emergency room, high school classroom, William & Mary lecture theatre, behind a Cambridge college bar.

Places where I’ve actually fainted: sidewalk, check up room, allergy test room, kitchen, blood draw room, elementary school classroom, theme park (Ireland in Busch Gardens), church (the priest was discussing “sober inebriation”), W&M lodge living room (landed on fireplace pokers), and a tissue culture room.

Note: The number of incidents is likely an overestimate as some locations served multiple functions. The actual number of incidents is around 17.

Discussion

Reasons I have fainted or nearly fainted: scraping my knee, getting allergy tests, receiving a shot, seeing bags of blood on TV, running a fever, accidentally stabbing my palm with a pencil, seeing someone else bleed onto a sidewalk, having a nosebleed, getting my blood drawn, seeing a human liver on TV, seeing someone else faint, thinking about a friend’s injury, thinking about a hypothetical injury, scraping my shins, and accidentally stabbing my finger with a sharps needle.

Conclusions

I’m lucky to be alive.

People are generally caring and helpful.

I could probably write a book about this.

At least I’ve been consistent.

Acknowledgements

People who have had to deal with my fainting: my poor parents, my sister, my entire 6^th grade class, regular doctors, allergy doctors, nurses (bless them all), tourists, a P.E. instructor, my godmother, my grandmother, several Catholics, my lodgemates/friends, a SCUBA instructor, a barista, grad students, and post docs.

References

Title Reference: Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

HSPs

Vasovagal Syncopes