A story not for the Lloyd

April 4, 2012


Er, ‘faint of heart’. Who wants to hear a funny story about Lloyd passing out?

Now, now, put your hands down. You know I’m going to tell you.

Let me preface this with the fact that Lloyd passing out is not the funny part. I don’t think it’s amusing, it’s what he said later. I’m not totally heartless. (There are tiny bits of heart in me somewhere.)

It’s time for the annual Health Fair here in Seward. You might recall that last year I went alone. It opened at 5:30, so I got there at 5:30, thinking I would be the first one. Ha ha ha!! There are people leaving at 5:30. There are no rules in Seward. It’s mass chaos.

This year I signed Lloyd up for it, too, and drug him along. He questioned getting there so early but understood as soon as he saw the packed parking lot. The lines inside the building went fast, though, and we actually wound up sitting beside each other for our blood draws. I confided in my nurse, “He’s probably going to pass out.” She told me, “That seems to happen more with men than women.” We smiled at our superior ability to remain conscious. (I didn’t tell her about my coma-naps, though, as I treasured our brief sisterhood. Wait, coma-naps is an untold post.)

Lloyd, however, did not tell his nurse that he might pass out. He told me later that since it hasn’t happened in a while, he didn’t think it would happen. I was all done with my blood-letting and was watching him from a chair nearby. It was so quick. She took the blood, loosed the tourniquet, and he kind of nodded off like he was sleeping in church. I walked over and told her, “It’s alright, we knew this might happen.” She called for the wheelchair lady and I told them, “Really, he’s fine. This happens a lot.” By that time Lloyd was conscious and said in the politest voice I’ve ever heard him use, “Oh. How long was I out?” (It was about 20 seconds.) He sat for a little bit and we were on our way.

See? Not funny. Kinda sweet. I drove us home and recounted the play-by-play to him, then asked him how it was from his end.

He said:

“I remember the needle, and thinking that it wasn’t so bad, and then….. I shouldn’t say this, but my next thought was, ‘There could be blood everywhere!’ and then I was out.”

I laughed and laughed and laughed!!!! That Lloyd – making passing out funny since 1998.

About Lauren

Lauren Sommerer is a preschool teacher who likes to build prototypes, grow cats, cook things once, save money, reduce, reuse and recycle.

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8 Responses to “A story not for the Lloyd”

  1. Gretchen Said on:

    I’m married to a passer-outer too! I’m told it is called a vasovagel response. Glad he didn’t fall and break his nose because I’ve heard that can happen to some people (not naming any names.)


  2. Brad Said on:

    When Lloyd asked how long he was out, you should have looked at him with concern and tenderness and said: “It’s been three years.”


  3. Lauren Said on:

    Thank you both for the gut-chuckles!


  4. Lloyd Said on:

    So, as it turns out, our school was having a blood drive that same day. I’m a reluctant blood donor. I really don’t care for the idea, but I know it’s a good thing to do. With a little concentration, I can avoid passing out until after the blood has been removed from my body.

    Yesterday, Justus Fenner and I were the last two people waiting to have our blood removed when one of the Red Cross workers came up and asked what our blood types were (I thought maybe there was a blood emergency somewhere and we might get hooked up to someone directly). Mine was (and presumably still is) A+ and Justus didn’t know his blood type.

    They said that they only had one bag left and that we would have to fight for it. As Justus seems like he might not fight fair, I told them that I would probably pass out anyway, and they happily led Justus away.


  5. Peggy Said on:

    20 seconds?!? Geez, that’s actually a long time! It’s like you had a little cat kitten nap.


  6. Kristi Said on:

    So, Lloyd, did the room get really hot before you passed out? It’s a good thing Lauren drove you home.


    • Lloyd Said on:

      I don’t remember it getting hot. I can usually recognize that I’m getting tunnel vision (it happens quite quickly). I usually try to say something at that point, but am not always successful.


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