The heat, my God, the HEAT!

Since the fateful first time I fainted in July 1981 when Prince Charles and Princess Diana visited PEI and my choir sang for them on the lawn of Fanningbank (the lieutenant governor's home), I have issues with passing out in heat.  It's continued throughout my life, and I generally can sense when it's going to happen. Now, I don't pass out for a long period, it's often just a few moments.  But it's very unnerving, especially if I am alone.

So, when I was pregnant in 2005 - THE hottest gd summer in recent memory - I was very careful not to put myself in situations where I might over-heat.  One August day, I wanted to get my enormous self out of the office at lunch, and thought a little ride in my air-conditioned van would do the trick.  As I was driving around, I thought of a couple of things I needed at Walmart.  Taking advantage of the pregger-parking, I was mere steps from the front entrance.  I parked, moved quickly into the over-air-conditioned comfort of Walmart and went about my business.  As I was leaving, I was a little hungry and decided to grab a one fajita meal from McDonald's.

As I got to the exit, I looked to make sure the van was only a few steps away, and there it was.  I scanned the crowd coming and going, there seemed to be no barrier between me and my chariot.  So I inhaled deeply - one last breath of cold air - and away I went.

I made it to the back of the van before the heat hit me, and made a dive for the driver's door.  But it was too late.  In between my van and the van next to me, I went down.  I'm sure it was 40 degrees in the shade.  And there is no shade in a Walmart parking lot.

Picture it:  an eleventeen-month preggers woman, beached between two vans.  It's not like it's an easy proposition for me to just bend at the waist and get up.  Add to that the fact that my knee and elbow were bleeding profusely, and to get up, I had to put my weight on that knee and my hand.  I grasped at the door handle and pulled myself up.  Only then did I notice that the fries from my fajita meal had spilled out onto the pavement.  Oh, the humanity!!

People asked me later if anyone stopped to help me - I'm still unsure if anyone would have - but no one noticed me between the vehicles.  Assholes.

So there I sat, in my air-conditioned van for what seemed like forever, crying because I was so upset - there were pieces of pavement in my knee (and it was gross), I didn't want to go back to work, and my fries were gone.  I pulled myself together, decided to go home to call my director and take the afternoon off.  So I put the van in reverse.

As anyone in that situation would, I broke into a fit of hysterics as I ran over my effin' fries.