![]() You have a very sensitive response,” he adds, giving me extra snowflake points. “Not everyone’s brain is wired in the same way. “Certain emotional and physical states can push the limbic system into taking a defensive mode to switch off, causing your blood pressure and heart rate to plummet,” says Dr Lim. But that’s not true in my case – why is it happening when I’m just, well, freaked out? It’s all down to the autonomic nervous system, apparently – the primitive part of the brain controlled by the limbic system. More: Discover the causes of and cures for ‘nervous exhaustion’.įainting often affects people if they’ve been standing up for a long time, especially in hot weather. Eventually, more and more blood pools in the legs until you’re unable to maintain a good enough blood pressure, the flow of blood to the brain is compromised. This in turn activates the sympathetic nervous system, which governs fight or flight, he explains. “As it empties, the lower limb vessels start to expand, and when the heart empties in this way, it is sensed by very sensitive mechanoreceptors in your neck.” “As the man in the diagram stands up, gravity pulls blood down into the lower limbs, emptying the brain and the heart in the process, right?” Right. “At all times your heart and brain should be filled with blood,” he says. He directs me to an interactive diagram on his website,. That’s not to mention an episode a few months earlier, when I found myself coming round on my scratchy office carpet after scrolling through an article about the contraceptive coil. I mean, the bus journey saw me floored by a childbirth scene in a historical novel. But as I’ve got older, the triggers have become less predictable. Lie down when you have a jab, leave the room if there’s a gruesome scene on TV, that sort of thing. Up until last year’s bus blackout, it had been relatively easy to manage. Vasovagal syncope is the technical term for it, as my GP told me when I was in high school, patting my arm while I recovered from yet another injection-induced swoon. Ever keen to live up to the stereotype of the fragile millennial snowflake, I’ve fainted when feeling pain or seeing something gory since I was a child. That sounds positively unhinged, so allow me to explain. It’s the fault of my Philippa Gregory book. ![]() ![]() But the blackout isn’t down to Prosecco or pills. “Too much to drink,” sniffs one of them disapprovingly. When I come round, I’m flat on my back on the floor, with a clutch of concerned bystanders looming over me. My bowels are clenching in a manner that is not encouraging in a public space. I wonder vaguely about sitting down rather than standing in the gangway. Initially it descends gradually: my skin prickles with heat, my stomach churns, the light seems unpleasantly harsh. It is late on a Friday night, on the bus home, when the wooziness sets in. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |