I’m a klutz. Just call me Mary Mishap! The queen of grace! Walls jut out and attack me, bumping into my shoulders and arms, producing expletives to spew from my mouth. Desk corners and kitchen countertops definitely target my pelvis and thighs. Andd there must be a scheme with the invisible “bumps” that mysteriously bob up inside the floor and cause me to totter, inevitably, in front of folks! Does anyone else have these issues? It’s not unusual for me to regularly sport contusions or scrapes on my body. In addition to my inherited gracefulness, I’m always tinkerin’ with crafts, household duties, or out gardening. I’ve learned to accept these markings as a part of life, like a ladybug has spots.
Well, one recent stumble left more than visible wounds. It went down (literally) like this. I took both our Beagle and Doberman outside together, of which I’ve done numerous times before, so that they could hike their legs and relieve themselves. One said pooch tends to do his business on all my lovely garden plants, which really annoys me, but I won’t mention his name. Unfortunately, living in a townhome we don’t have a fenced in backyard, and so, both k9’s must be tethered to a human. Which, for me, at times feels as if I’m a buoy roped to JAWS.
A secure yard would be ideal, particularly on those chilly-ass mornings when I opt to go outside bundled in my pink and white poka-doted bath robe. Surely, I’ve scarred the neighbors. At any rate, the last time I escorted the dogs out, I did not return to our abode looking, nor feeling, the same. Normally, as the pooch posse and I are strolling along, I’m often scanning the grounds for what makes them turn into berserk machines. –Felines. Well, apparently my reconnaissance was shit, or even if I wasn’t, it would not have mattered. I lost control like a bird smacking into a plane’s windshield. I was kissing asphalt and their happy asses were off like fired cannons.
I didn’t fully realize the extent of my injuries until a week after my face plant. I had facial wounds on my right side of my head, but, they were scabbing over fine. Two of my fingers were severely sprained, but they were now bendable and I could resume use of giving the middle salute. My two front teeth were chipped in the accident and felt I could now fit the part in a Beverly Hillbillies episode. But, the one injury I couldn’t see were headaches. Headaches like I never experienced before; headaches like “who the flyin’ fuck unleashed these bitches onto my gray matter?!” They hurt. Although my world didn’t turn black when I collided with the ground, I incurred an invisible injury, a concussion.
I rarely get headaches, so being that they were visiting me at the same time every day, I knew something was up. Also, I noticed simple words, sentences, and thoughts weren’t quite poppin’ outta my mouth with ease as they used to. More often than not, my footing felt off or and I’d easily get dizzy. My hubby suffers from post-concussion headaches (exploding IED’s next to the cranium don’t make for a good outcome). He was pretty certain that I was suffering from post-concussion headaches; a visit to a neurologist confirmed his suspicion.
Every week since kissing asphalt, which by the way I had to get a tetanus shot for, which by the way, will make your arm hurt for a few days, it’s been a different type of brain pain. The first set of headaches that I experienced, I dubbed as “umbrella” headaches. The weighted aches would begin at the very crown of my head and agonizingly slide down the circumference of my cranium as if unfolding over an open umbrella. With the umbrella aches was a lot of pressure as if some annoying circus monkey was doing tricks atop my head.
After the umbrella’s unleashed their wrath and folded up and left, very centralized headaches, over my left eye, took the baton. What the fuck. I’ve never been stabbed by a knife before, but this set of headaches felt like a serrated blade assaulting me in the same spot repeatedly. The stabbing serial killer throbs began daily at 10am on the dot and lasted way, way too long into the evening. Next were the forehead aches. It was like that wild circus monkey I mentioned earlier invited his elephant friends over to the party. He apparently instructed them to lay on my forehead… like 50 elephants. 50 elephants on my head. Yeap, that’s what it felt like.
Although it’s been about two months since my accident, I still endure daily headaches. It’s a joyful combo now between serial killer and rolling elephant aches. My neurologist has assured me that eventually they will dissipate completely. I’ve learned how fragile, yet how well sheltered our brains are. I’ve also learned to never walk both dogs together again. Ever. Again.