Friday night some friends and I decided to go to Lapa. We seem to have settled into a fairly set group that consists of me, Mathiu (France), Vianney (France), Paulina (
We caught a bus to Lapa, which was about a 45-minute ride away. As we were walking into the area, there was a hole in the middle of the pavement, and I twisted my ankle and fell. It was a more serious twist than usual, and though I could walk on it, the pain was more intense and lingered for longer than I was used to. Almost immediately, I started feeling very poorly. The music was suddenly unbearably loud, and it felt like everything was pressing in on me. I thought it was odd and couldn’t figure out how twisting my ankle could have such an effect on the rest of me. I felt strange enough that I wondered momentarily if I’d been drugged, but then I remembered that I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since leaving home. Igor asked if I wanted to sit down for a little while, but I declined, thinking I’d be all right in a minute. I soon reconsidered, however, and went to go sit down on a step.
As I sat there, I began to feel even worse. I was light-headed and, though I really wanted to continue on to the club with my friends, I decided I was in no shape to do so and that I’d better go home instead. Mathiu came over to check up on me, and I stood up to tell him that I thought I’d better go home. I managed to complete the sentence, but then my balance went way out of whack. I grabbed his shoulder to steady myself, but the next thing I knew, lots of hands were lowering me to the ground. I remember thinking as I blacked out, “I’m losing consciousness outside at night in the middle of a foreign country, and in Lapa [NOT an overly-safe neighborhood] no less.” So much for always being on my guard about my surroundings. And then, “I don’t know where I am or who the people moving around me are…I hope I don’t wake up someplace strange with everything gone.” It was a little bit like the feeling I had last summer when I boarded the bus to Nova Friburgo without knowing what awaited me on the other end, except that this was ten times worse.
I opened my eyes to find Igor and Mathiu peering over me, still in Lapa, right where I’d fainted, of course. It hadn’t really occurred to me as I blacked out that I had seven friends there with me. Thank goodness for that. I was impressed with the presence of mind of the person (perhaps Igor?) in charge of my recovery process. If the same thing had happened to one of my friends, I’m not sure I would’ve known exactly what to do. My recovery, on the other hand, seemed like it could have been the example for a first aid manual. At first they had me just lie there, with someone elevating my feet, then slowly rise to a sitting position. Someone got me a bottle of water, and little by little they coaxed me back to normal. A Brazilian woman came over to help, and she rubbed my wrists and splashed water on my neck and forehead while directing me to take deep breaths. All the while, I was speaking Portuguese to those around me. It’s certainly interesting to have to speak a foreign language under conditions like those.
Almost immediately upon opening my eyes, I started laughing, especially since I didn’t know the proper Portuguese to be able to make sufficient fun of myself. I felt so ridiculous, especially since I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before. The whole episode was so strange. Prior to twisting my ankle, I’d felt completely normal. I was walking along, talking with Mathiu and Vianney, and then BAM! I twisted my ankle and everything fell apart. I’ve certainly twisted my ankle many times in the past, so I have no idea why I reacted so severely this time. Brazilian sidewalks are definitely hazardous, though. I tripped and fell a couple weeks ago and got a nasty scrape on my right knee, and now, as soon as that scrape has healed, I have a scrape on my left knee and an injured left ankle. I’m pretty sure my host mother thinks I am the world’s biggest klutz, and I’m rather inclined to agree with her.
After awhile, I felt well enough to stand. I hailed a taxi and set off for Gávea, disappointed that I was leaving Lapa before the night had even begun. All things considered, though, I was very lucky. I’m thankful that I had such attentive friends, and that I was there with a group that had six guys, instead of a small group of girls. While fainting in Lapa on a Friday night is far from my idea of fun, things couldn’t have been handled more smoothly. I even learned a new Portuguese word in the process: desmaiar = to faint!
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