who'd have thought!
I passed out today at church. I'm completely fine, but it added a little excitement to my experience of the liturgy.
I am normally fairly weather-proof. Sure, I get cold in the winter and hot in the summer like everyone else, but it doesn't usually bother me overly much. I walk for three miles downtown or in the woods in a 20-degree chill without being too put out and I help the nuns with their hay in the 95 degree fields without griping. It's not that big a deal; humans survive in variety of temperatures.
But today, I was uncharacteristically Unbearably Hot. I had become a human irrigation system. I'd periodically pull a tissue from my purse and attempt to daintily wipe away the rivulets streaming down my nose. I'd spread my fingers to let more air get in between. I'd exhale all the air from my lungs slowly, willing my breath to carry away as much heat as possible.
To help matters, I was sitting in the midst of a rolling fog of incense, increasingly obscuring the pews around me and my view of the altar. I was sitting toward the front of the church, as is my habit, and today, over by the side chapel, which is unfortunately where the deacon places censer when Father is finished with it. The said item was clearly improperly prepared and was enthusiastically releasing a brume of blessings over all in our corner with the fervor of the gloria bells. It added a dreamlike flavor to the liturgy; I say "flavor" because I could taste as well as smell the perfumes.
I had trouble following the homily. I was fidgety and the people fanning themselves with prematurely taken bulletins were irritating me. I couldn't remember what the first reading said, only that it had been from Isaiah, and therefore couldn't follow the thread of Father's logic. I had trouble staying focused on the prayers of the canon. We'd been kneeling. We rose for the Our Father. The fog obscuring the altar got sparkly. And I said, "Our Father, who art in......er.. [thump]."
And then I was being removed to the air-conditioned vestibule with a solicitous usher at each elbow, both wearing full suits. After ascertaining I was not diabetic did not have a heart condition, I was delivered copious quantities of lemonade and damp paper towels and left with an aged priest who insisted on chatting me up. Beautiful church, isn't it? I agreed. I smelled like incense. I agreed. Did Father used too much? I agreed. Hot weather! I agreed. Was I an incoming freshman at Harvard? I agreed. Hmneh nnnnh!!! No no. I meant, no, I am a second year masters' student at Boston College. He laughed. I blinked a few times, chugged the remaining lemonade, wadded up the towels, and said I thought I was ready to go back. He gave me a blessing, and I slipped into the end of the communion line, about as unobtrusively as I could have wished. I managed to return to a pew reasonably close to the one where I'd left my purse. And that was that. As I left, I smiled at the ushers, the elder of whom tipped his imaginary hat.
So I'm loading up on the fluids and electrolytes and hoping that was a one time deal. How strange! I guess I'm not as invincible as I thought!
I am normally fairly weather-proof. Sure, I get cold in the winter and hot in the summer like everyone else, but it doesn't usually bother me overly much. I walk for three miles downtown or in the woods in a 20-degree chill without being too put out and I help the nuns with their hay in the 95 degree fields without griping. It's not that big a deal; humans survive in variety of temperatures.
But today, I was uncharacteristically Unbearably Hot. I had become a human irrigation system. I'd periodically pull a tissue from my purse and attempt to daintily wipe away the rivulets streaming down my nose. I'd spread my fingers to let more air get in between. I'd exhale all the air from my lungs slowly, willing my breath to carry away as much heat as possible.
To help matters, I was sitting in the midst of a rolling fog of incense, increasingly obscuring the pews around me and my view of the altar. I was sitting toward the front of the church, as is my habit, and today, over by the side chapel, which is unfortunately where the deacon places censer when Father is finished with it. The said item was clearly improperly prepared and was enthusiastically releasing a brume of blessings over all in our corner with the fervor of the gloria bells. It added a dreamlike flavor to the liturgy; I say "flavor" because I could taste as well as smell the perfumes.
I had trouble following the homily. I was fidgety and the people fanning themselves with prematurely taken bulletins were irritating me. I couldn't remember what the first reading said, only that it had been from Isaiah, and therefore couldn't follow the thread of Father's logic. I had trouble staying focused on the prayers of the canon. We'd been kneeling. We rose for the Our Father. The fog obscuring the altar got sparkly. And I said, "Our Father, who art in......er.. [thump]."
And then I was being removed to the air-conditioned vestibule with a solicitous usher at each elbow, both wearing full suits. After ascertaining I was not diabetic did not have a heart condition, I was delivered copious quantities of lemonade and damp paper towels and left with an aged priest who insisted on chatting me up. Beautiful church, isn't it? I agreed. I smelled like incense. I agreed. Did Father used too much? I agreed. Hot weather! I agreed. Was I an incoming freshman at Harvard? I agreed. Hmneh nnnnh!!! No no. I meant, no, I am a second year masters' student at Boston College. He laughed. I blinked a few times, chugged the remaining lemonade, wadded up the towels, and said I thought I was ready to go back. He gave me a blessing, and I slipped into the end of the communion line, about as unobtrusively as I could have wished. I managed to return to a pew reasonably close to the one where I'd left my purse. And that was that. As I left, I smiled at the ushers, the elder of whom tipped his imaginary hat.
So I'm loading up on the fluids and electrolytes and hoping that was a one time deal. How strange! I guess I'm not as invincible as I thought!