Doctor Dementor
People in long white coats have the same effect on me as do the Azkaban Prison guards on Harry Potter (and as might Pvt. Lynndie England on your average Iraqi criminal): Almost every time I see one, I pass out.
And while the fact that your entire body can kinda' just shut down is pretty cool in theory, in practice it leaves a lot to be desired: Warning the health care professionals that you are prone to fainting in these situations; Listening to them joke about how 'bout you not doing that on their watch; The clammy feeling as your blood pressure drops and you know that you're going; Trying to answer the "what is your name, what year is it?" questions while the darkness encroaches like a camera shutter closing.
Sometimes you just go completely OUT. Other times, you kick into the dream state in amazingly quick fashion. In any event, it's always embarrassing when you "come to" and everyone is hovering around you, asking the name and date questions again (or maybe they never stopped. How long WERE you out, anyway?). After a few minutes, they let you lie down; that helps.
In awhile, you feel better and want to leave, but they insist you stay "till your color comes back." You are sure they just want to cover their asses so that you don't pass out again once you are, say, doing 45 mph on the highway. That's probably not a bad thing. But all you want to do is LEAVE. Because what made you pass out is still there and you're not gonna' feel too much better until you get away from the needles, tubes and white coats. God, the white coats.
Then, the rest of the day, you feel like you have jet lag and that night, when you undress for bed, you realize your underwear is on backwards.
