When I was a high school sophomore, I started fainting. Frequently. Inconveniently. Embarrassingly. Sometimes, painfully.
I tried to explain it to my folks. Perhaps I was less than convincing while upright and coherent.
My classmates were really supportive the day I fainted in World Religions, fell out of my chair, and got everybody an extra day to study for the exam.
Then, one day, I fainted in gym class. It might have seemed like simply a good plan to escape a context that made me feel uncomfortable, except for one detail.
I was on the top bar of the uneven parallel bars when I fainted.