My Monday morning started out better than most. I was up right at six. The alarm went off, I hopped out of bed with a good 8 hours of blissful slumber and happy dreams under my belt. I threw a pair of jogging pants on under my sleep shirt, got my cool slipper boots on and disarmed the security system and set about my normal morning routine; open the back door, let the dogs out, get coffee. I was up before the coffee was done (and in retrospect, I probably saved a mug because of it), so I just went out the back door.
We have a double wooden deck, the first level is about six inches above the lower level, and I made it across the upper level alright, but I forgot to take into consideration that it had rained yesterday, the deck hadn’t completely been water free after dark, and that it was cold (though it wasn’t supposed to freeze over night). That’s when the Monday fun got started. I put one foot down on the lower deck and said foot went out from under me and WHAM!
My tailbone hit first, and then my head followed mega-shortly thereafter. It smacked step hard enough that I felt it in my eyeballs.
I’m an idiot. I’m lying on my back, the dogs are coming over to find out why I’m down there with them, and all I can think is, “Help. I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” Who DOES that? Oh, yeah, me. And then I tried to get up, and the deck was really slick, and my hands kept sliding. The Hubs is not up yet, but awake and Baby Boy won’t be up for another 40 minutes.
Petey, our rescue mutt, weighs a good bit more than my largest Papillon, and he was kind enough to let me borrow him after I rolled over and needed something NOT covered in ice to hold onto. I love that dog.
I hobbled into the house and told Johnny that I’d hit the ice, and thought I’d broken my ass…There was a big ol’ crack in it, and I thought it was funny, so I laughed. Not good.
I called my boss and told her what happened and that I might be a little late coming in. Brenda was wonderful, as always, about my habitual attempts at inadvertent self-destruction, and told me if I needed the day to take it. I needed to be in the office, as I had a report due, so after a long, REALLY HOT shower, I headed off to work.
I was really okay until about nine or so, when I started to get a headache in spite of the ibuprofen I had taken right after I fell. Then I started noticing that I couldn’t type. THAT was cause for concern for me, because I do almost 100 words per minute and am disgustingly accurate, but my fingers weren’t exactly getting the message that my brain was sending via my eyes. I think that’s when I really got scared. By ten or so, I was feeling really bad, so Brenda and Cindy helped me get to the Health Nurse. It’s good to work at a hospital sometimes.
They got me in to see my regular doctor, Brenda shuttled me, since it was right across the street, and hung out in the waiting room while I gave the nurse a hard time. They were suggesting I go to the ER. I was like, oh, NO. I know what that co-pay is, and I am well aware of the wait times. I told the doc I’d do whatever diagnostics she wanted me to do, but I was requesting that she order them. All I wanted to do was go home and hit the sheets, and I knew if I had to do it by way of the ER, it could be a really long time before I’d be reunited with my own bed.
She freaked me out pretty badly when she said she was having me get an emergency CAT scan. She kept saying that head injuries were not to be taken lightly and said something about a bleed, and I went into a panic. “But, but, I just bumped my head. No knot, no pain to touch, just a little headache…”
So with that, out the door I went, Brenda took me right up to admitting. Tyra was there with a wheelchair (for me? awww, hell….), and wheeled me right to the admitting desk where they took my paperwork and told me they’d have someone with me shortly. Then Tyra rolled me around to the admissions clerk, Kristy, who was also just as sweet as could be. I was seeing where I work from a different perspective, and it was kind of cool. Or would have been, had I not been worried about being brain injured. Friends were texting to make sure I was ok, and I was happy to have my phone so I could text back and see if my fingers wanted to work this time. They did. *whew*
Having never had a CAT scan, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was really quick. I kept joking with the staff that I was worried about them learning that there really was no brain in there and that I’d been pulling off a charade for twelve years, and that my cover would be blown. Truth be told, I was more than a little wigged out, especially since the doctor told me they wouldn’t let me leave Radiology until the results had been phoned in.
A short time later I got the green flag to go home, so I asked if I could ditch the wheels and just walk back to my office and make a call to get my ride home, and they asked if I was sure I’d be ok, and I was.
I got home shortly after one this afternoon, grabbed my new Debe Seger-Winkler book and went right to bed, where I spent a relaxing four hours reading that sucker from cover to cover. The name of it is Deadly Letters, and if you can get your hands on a copy? I highly recommend it.
But here’s the thing…This situation where my fingers were experiencing a disconnect with my brain? That shit is scary. I mean, it’s makes-you-look-at-the-things-that-people-with-serious-brain-injuries-must-go-through kind of scary.
How frustrating must it be to know in your head what your limbs are supposed to be doing, yet you can’t get them to perform on command anymore? Even typing slowly and making a conscious effort to type the right letters wasn’t going too well for me this morning, and it was very sobering to me. I am more than a little fortunate that all I had was a bump on the head and a temporary blurb on my radar.
All I can say about this is: I will never take for granted again the things that I do without thinking about it. Even sitting here, sleepy, with my computer in my lap, my fingers are all over the keyboard at their regular speed and what is in my head is coming out correctly on the screen. This is an average, everyday occurrence for me, but I appreciate it a hell of a lot more tonight.
On a lighter note, if anyone was thinking about things to get the clumsy girl for birthdays, Christmases, etc? Bubble wrap is already on the list, but I’m thinking that a helmet might not be such a bad idea.
Oh! And one more thing. I am looking forward to sharing an interview with David Workman in the coming days. He’s written a book that is a must-read, as well. It’s titled, “Absolute Authority” and it, too, is hard to put down.
Both of these books can be found on Amazon, so if you are looking for something good? Check one or both of them out. 🙂
Till Next Time…
So glad you are okay! I love READING your blog! One day we’ll get together and trade cat scan stories and other misc. accidental self-inflicted injuries. Be safe! Maybe some random cat litter kernels thrown around deck in the winter would give it some tread?
Liz, do you do this kind of thing, too? That would make us kindred clumsy spirits, LOL…
Usually we put de-icer pellets down if the forecast calls for a freeze, but it wasn’t supposed to get below 36. Guess the clouds rolled out sooner than expected. 😉
This is why one should never,ever get excitedly out of bed before the coffee is made!
J/K good to know it’s nothing serious but I would highly suggest a helmet…and salt or sand that area, before you have a repeat incident.
LOL! Yes, salt and a helmet! And maybe spiked slipper cleats! 🙂
Jeeze!!! Take care of yourself!
Thanks…I seem to do this kind of thing a lot. Absolutely unintentionally, mind you, but still…waaaay too much for my liking.
Oh, and GET WELL SOON
And thanks! ❤
nothing like airing out the beev at o-dark-thirty. next time wear golf shoes with steel spikes ya klutzy hooka.
Ermagerd, no you didn’t! I had sweat pants on! LMAO!