I have an unfortunate habit of falling ill at the worst times. I have a lovely recurring problem with my iron levels/blood sugar/blood pressure which gives me occasional bouts of turning as white as a ghost, going extremely shaky, sometimes fainting and often having intense, long lasting headaches.
I have always helpfully had them in the most awkward of places, like the supermarket, or in the middle of a hockey match, because I’m sure my body finds it amusing that I had to be half carried from the hockey pitch and told my blood sugar was too low to read, completely baffling the emergency nurse.
I haven’t had one of these spells for a while, that is, until yesterday when my body decided that, despite feeling perfectly fine all morning, when we reached a flower market it would be a good time to feel awful and ruin the start of the day. We’d barely been inside the market for 10 minutes when my grandparents were rushing me out again to the St John Ambulance parked outside because I was so pale I was practically transparent and shaking like someone had tipped a truckload of icecubes down my back. Lovely.
So, I spent the first half an hour of the market watching the inside of the ambulance and sipping on some lukewarm water that the nice ambulance lady gave me. Luckily it soon passed and I could enjoy the rest of the day, but sometimes I wish that I could just go somewhere without being struck down with something that turns the world blurry. Although, that might have just been because I’d left my glasses in my bag.