You’ve probably seen the ads for the Bodies exhibit, that features real bodies. I got to actually see it, on a seventh grade science trip to the exhibit in South Street Seaport, NYC.

My science class was pretty typical, so half of them were really excited, half were grossed out, and the rest didn’t really care where we were going, as long as it meant we got out of class. But for me, the wannabe doctor, this was the best possible field trip ever.

After we got into the exhibit, I was feeling pretty good, looking at the skeletons, and then we moved in to the muscular room. I walked around, filling in my worksheet, when I started to feel kind of dizzy, and my head felt heavy. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

When I opened my eyes, I felt even worse. My other symptoms were still there, and now my head hurt. It felt as if my brain was suddenly expanding and forcing my skull to stretch. I still felt dizzy, and now the world dimmed so I could barely see.

I need to sit down, I thought, and moved toward the bench. Wavy lines appeared in front of me, like on one of those old T.V.s with beat up screens. There was no more room on the bench. Through my fading vision, I could barely make out who was sitting there, and my tongue wouldn’t work to tell them to move over and make room for me.

I need to sit down, I thought, but I couldn’t seem to move, so I clumsily fell to my knees. I felt as if I had a swarm of bees buzzing around in my head, and the honey they were making was clogging up my thoughts. Now black and white dots blinked in front of my eyes, and I thought of ants having a snowball fight. I was too dizzy to tell one of the teachers, and as soon as I thought that, my brain erased the thought. Then the ants got bigger, overtaking the snowballs, until there were no snowballs left, only an army of black ants, marching across my vision and I heard them marching tiny little ant feet going faster and faster and then a dull thud as my head hit the floor.

I had fainted in the middle of the bodies exhibition. A week later, I went back with my dad. Once again, it made me feel dizzy. Everyone agreed-the sight of those bodies made me faint.

For me, this meant I couldn’t see the rest of the exhibition. It meant that all my friends were asking me what it felt like to pass out. Most of all, it meant I could never go to medical school. I couldn’t be a doctor.