When accidents aren't accidents...
Have you ever done something dumb that resulted in an accident?
I think we all have.
We're usually preoccupied or oblivious to our surroundings or at the wrong place at the wrong time when we find ourselves at the mercy of an unfortunate set of circumstances.
I've been there too often to admit.
And again just recently.
I'm a firm believer in our symptoms being teachers, and that sometimes we need a wake up call that only happens when we pay attention to what our body is telling us.
I'm not new age-y enough to want to place blame on us, as victims, but afterwards it's helpful to figure out exactly what our body is saying.
I've been sitting with a "what's next for me" question a lot lately. What do I want to do, learn, explore, check off the bucket list next?
And I've been stuck in the thinking mode with little action.
I have a million ideas of how I'd like to use my time and skills and energy, but you know what? I've been spending too much time in my own head and not enough time actually getting anything completed.
Everytime I come up with a big goal or dream I can easily find an excuse or reason why I shouldn't do it.
And it's a little paralyzing.
Nine days ago our family was over for supper and games and we were all having a fun evening laughing and eating. Our granddaughter did something funny (I still can't remember exactly what she did) and when I tried to copy her I ended up hitting my head on our solid French door in the dining room.
It wasn't a little bump. It was a full force whack.
Within moments I had an egg on my head and it was sore to touch, like a bruise, but I was surprisingly okay. I was able to laugh it off, poke fun at my clumsiness and keep playing games for the rest of the night.
The next day the water from the shower head hurt on my head while I rinsed out the shampoo and I had a bit of a headache but still otherwise okay. There were a few times that I found myself trying to remember something, a word, where I kept the casserole dish, where my husband said we were driving. It hurt a little while trying to find a comfy position to sleep, but again, no big deal.
It wasn't until the following day that I was aware of how hard I hit my head.
I experienced an entire day with what I would describe as the worst headache of my life. I was vomiting. I needed a dark silent room and warm blankets for the entire day. My eyes couldn't focus. Answering text messages with kaleidoscope vision was almost impossible. My husband asked if he could get me anything, and I spent the next two hours sobbing because I was hungry but couldn't remember anything that I liked to eat.
It was not a fun time.
I guess that bump to the head caused a mild concussion and I was determined to rest and feel better on my own. I'd do whatever Dr. Google suggested so that I didn't have to go to the hospital. The idea of being surrounded by sick people, with noise and florescent lights was not appealing.
So I slept.
For hours. For probably the better part of two days. And my headache came down a few notches.
I could remember that I liked bananas. And peppermint tea. And toast with cinnamon.
And I moved my body from the bed to the couch and put food in my body.
There's not much to do but think and meditate when your body can't comfortably watch TV or read, so I did a lot of that.
And I began questioning what meaning I was supposed to take away from a concussion.
I'm fairly certain it was a wake up call to get out of my own head. There's nothing like being forced into a full stop to realize just how much you could get done if your body would cooperate.
So I got a concussion and now I have a plan for what I'm going to do next, just as soon as my head/neck is healed.
I'm still moving in slow motion. Writing anything seems to take eons. And this headache is still very present and lingering.
But week 2 definitely feels better than week 1.
I'm still foggy at remembering certain words. And not having a to-do list or reminder means that I forget things quickly.
So I'm doing what I can to accommodate my sore head while I work in short bursts and try to avoid concentrating too hard for too long.
It's humbling to heal.
It's humbling to see just how the world keeps on ticking even when your contributions are limited.
It's humbling to slow down and regroup.
And sometimes it takes the Universe bopping you on the head to realize that.