|
Front Porch Nonfiction
- Paroxysmal Event: A Personal History of Fainting by Rachel Jackson
Sometimes it even looks graceful, more accurately fitting the word, “swoon”—wrist to forehead, a gentle crumbling perhaps brought on by a too-tight corset. There were even special couches for this purpose in the Victorian age, “fainting sofas” on which one could elegantly recline while smelling salts were held beneath the nose. But in an even smaller subset of the already small percentage of the population prone to vasovagal syncope, an exclusive club to which I and a few members of my family belong, the fun continues with a sudden, violent stiffness in the limbs or uncontrolled shaking that resembles, but is not, a seizure.
[read full piece]
|
