Public speaking is often someone’s biggest fear. Teaching, at least at first, evoked a similar kind of fear. Bit by bit I’ve gotten more confident in both my abilities as a teacher, and my lessons. I was set to have my busiest day yet, 5 classes and English club after school. I had no classes on Tuesday, and only 1 yesterday, so I really didn’t mind being busy. Of course, things don’t always go as planned. 

I had a hard time sleeping the night before, falling asleep maybe around 2AM. I usually sleep pretty well, but I had some coffee after work, which might have been the culprit. I never thought I was all that affected by coffee, but maybe espresso is a bit of an exception. I was groggy, but had my usual breakfast, got ready, and headed to school. 

I had been scheduled for 4 classes originally, but another teacher asked if I could do another one in the morning the day prior. I’d rather be busy than bored, so I had agreed. The first class was an old lesson, so I had sort of forgotten the rhythm of it. I had a bit more time in the end than I figured, but overall it went pretty well. 

I was a little bit sleepy, having to stifle the occasional yawn, but generally feeling pretty good. I had forgotten my coffee, and worse, my lunch for today. I figured I’d simply have to make do, not the first time I’ve forgotten my coffee, and I’ve skipped lunch in the past. I’m sure it would be fine. I grabbed some water, found the worksheets for my next period, and headed off to class. 

Things were going well right until I got to a practice conversation in pairs. All of a sudden, my vision begins to get fuzzy, my own voice starts to sound distant as I try to carry on the lesson, and the strength begins to leave my legs. I try to power through, sneaking in deep breaths as I explain the activity, but fainting begins to feel like a real possibility before long. 

At this point the other teachers had begun to notice, and were asking if I was alright. Their voices were distant, and I lowered myself to sitting on the ledge of the teachers area. Luckily for me I suppose, we had moved the teacher’s podium close to the TV I was using to present. I prayed it obscured my current state. As the other teachers approached me I asked for some water. 

One teacher ran to get me something to drink, while the other continued the lesson. We’d done it together a handful of times, so I figured she knew it well enough, though I was just focused on fighting off the intense vertigo I was feeling. I shifted onto a chair, and when the other teacher returned I took slow sips of water. Once things gradually became more manageable, I could feel just how drenched in sweat I was. 

As I began to feel a bit better, the embarrassment began to creep in. It’s one thing to feel like you’re having a medical event, it’s another thing to have it happen in front of 25 students. I quickly got flashbacks to my first cold here in Japan, but at least that happened in the teachers room and not during class. 

By this point I had mostly given up on driving the class, and was following the other teacher’s lead. I tried to get up and walk around, monitoring the students, maybe offering the occasional correction. Really though, I was trying to play off what had just happened. I hoped if I pretended everything was normal that was the impression they would be left with. 

Eventually, the class wrapped up, and we headed back to the teachers room. My supervisor told me she would teach the next class herself and that I should rest at my desk. She gave some justification, probably trying to spare my feelings, but I was already feeling rather sheepish. 

With newfound time to kill at my desk, I tried to think of what could have caused this little incident. If I could figure out what happened, maybe I can rationalize it, and in so doing, find some comfort. Probably the most plausible cause I’ve been able to find was the heat. It was warmer than the past few days, and the AC in that classroom didn’t seem as strong. By the time my vertigo had cleared, I was covered in sweat. 

I might have gotten a bit of heatstroke, having it sneak up on me while I was in the middle of instructing. The heat here in Japan certainly is no joke, and I’ve found it pretty tough to adjust to. Without central AC the temperature can vary pretty wildly even in the same building. I’m chilly in the teachers room, hot in the bathroom, suffocating in the halls, and sweating in the classrooms. 

Another possible cause is low blood pressure. I used to have similar issues with vertigo when I would stand up too quickly, especially when I was younger. My vision would get blurry and I would feel pretty weak. Turns out, caffeine can provide a short term increase in blood pressure. Maybe missing my morning coffee is even more disastrous than it feels. 

In the end, I’ll probably never know the main cause, and unless it becomes an ongoing problem, it doesn’t really matter. But I wanted to at least take back some feeling of control, and so I spent some time racking my brain (and the internet) for possible causes. I also kept going back and forth on what to do next. 

Should I assume it was a one time thing, and proceed with the rest of my classes? What were the odds that I would have another dizzy spell, further compounding my embarrassment? This was my last few classes before summer break, I wanted to finish strong, but was that still possible? 

Thankfully, my supervisor made that decision for me. They told me they would cancel my remaining classes for the day, which prompted me to take the rest of the afternoon off as a sick day. They encouraged me to take my temperature, and see the doctor if it seemed necessary. I thanked them for their consideration, apologized for the trouble, and headed home. 

Some food, a good nap, and a bit of space made me feel a lot better. The world wasn’t ending. This minor incident wouldn’t define my time as a teacher. By the time the new term starts I’m hopeful this will be old news, if it was ever even newsworthy in the first place. Bodies are great, and weird, and sometimes you just feel bad. It’s part of being human. 

We often can’t control how we feel, or how our days might go. That’s difficult to accept, but the more we resist that simple truth, the more pain it causes. My busiest day ever didn’t come to pass, and rather than being upset about things beyond my control, I just have to live with it. Instead, I had a dizzy spell, and life goes on.