She's a Knockout, or Knocked Out Anyway

As a child, I suffered two serious concussions, but have only vague memories of the aftermath. Saturday afternoon, I fell going to my car. I'm not entirely certain what happened, or how I ended up bruised on the back of my arm and head as I don't remember being knocked out, though it seems I was, if only momentarily. I quickly got myself up, established nothing was broken and drove home. Yes, really. I was alone and though it all happened so quickly, I decided all was well. It was is not. By the way, because I know someone will ask-I was wearing flat shoes! I never lay myself out wearing platforms😀

My last concussion happened playing backyard baseball. In one of those classic, "I've got it-I've got-it-WHAM-into a brick wall" moves, I managed to knock myself out cold. Don't remember if I caught the ball. 45 odd years on, I gave myself an injury going to a parked car, but went to a baseball game that evening. I felt fine-still had no idea I'd hit my head. About 8 hours on from the fall, I was feeling terrible, and the drive home from the ballpark seemed unusually dark-well, it was as I'd neglected to put on the headlamps. I've been driving since I was sixteen-as far as I know this was the first time I'd ever driven down a rural road without lights. By the time I made it home I was dizzy, nauseated, and shaking from cold. Still unaware that I had a concussion, I went to bed. Yes, that was stupid.

By Sunday, I was putting things together. What I didn't put together was that my arthritis medications are incredibly dangerous to take with a concussion. Monday, I caved and went to see my GP who, horrified that I didn't have myself seen immediately in the ER on Saturday, ordered a brain scan to see if my brain was bleeding. It was not, and I am incredibly thankful. I had to immediately stop all my medications as the risk is still there, but as brain injuries go, I was lucky. Due to the trauma of the fall, my immune system seems to have gone into fight mode, so I'm having a flare. Predictable, but still so disappointing.

It is now Friday and I still haven't a clue what happened, or how long I am going to feel this way. I can't sleep, but I'm tired constantly. When I do sleep, I have what are probably the strangest dreams of my life.  I am nauseated, dizzy, weak, feel slightly stoned in that time delayed sort of way, and have been crying over everything from unloading the dishwasher to watching a robin struggle to eat a raisin from the feeder. In other words, this ain't me. I've been wearing the same Everlast track suit for days and don't anticipate getting dressed anytime soon. I know I'm improving, but it is slow going and after six days at home, I'm getting impatient. I can't drive until I've been symptom free for 24 hours, and I'm not all that comfortable with the idea of driving anyway after that ride home Saturday night.

I'm supposed to be resting my body and my brain. I took that as don't try to do anything too complicated or upsetting, so I've been avoiding news in favour of reading Tumblrs. I adore Tumblr (mine is HERE). Sure, it can be a hellsite at times, but where else can you look at people's horrible thrift finds, watch videos of pet birds (Birbs!) doing silly things, or scroll through what amounts to teenagers ideas of what the 60s and 70s were like in a sort of online scrapbook. Picture after picture of crazy fashions, bands you'd forgotten, advertisements, home decor, etc. Perfect for a brain that needs to heal-nothing too challenging there.

So that's about it. I have some posts half-written that may or may not ever end up published. I am trying to get caught up with all your blogs, but I hope you'll forgive me if I don't comment on them as I'm really straining for words at times.

I hope to be back to normal soon, or at least getting dressed.