Oh to be a fainter. To faint wearing white silk. To be earnestly touched and tended by The Help. For space to be made around you, and cold cloths to be fetched.
Alas I’ve never gotten past light-headedness. Even with frequently-low blood pressure. All for the best, I suppose.
For now I must make do with curling up in bed with hot soupy stewlike stuff, watching this movie again for the umpteenth time.