As the weeks went by in Mr. Foster's 9th grade Science class, I started to forget about the time that I fainted while the class was looking at a smoker's lung. In that same class, the teacher had given us assigned seats in alphabetical order. Since my last name started with D, I sat in the front row next to Brian Chadbourn and Phil Dayland. Now I don't recall what exactly precipitated it, only that the teacher was talking about something. It must've been something pretty explicit, though, because I started to feel faint and woke up on the floor in between my desk and one of the guys next to me. There were guffaws and classmates wondering how in the hell I could faint over something the teacher was talking about, but that is what happened. It turns out that I get faint not only at the sight of blood or body organs, but also of vivid descriptions of such things. Crazy, innit?
After passing out two times in his class, Mr. Foster didn't take any more chances with me. When he arranged to have a video shown that he thought might be too much for me, he had me sit in the back next to him and asked me several times during the video if I was OK. I was fine. When something came on the screen that I thought was too much, I just averted my eyes. I made it through the rest of that class and the school year without fainting.
But the episode that I would be most renowed for was yet to come.