Like yesterday morning. I had actually slept in over the weekend. Oh bright early yesterday morning happened more because of habit than for any other reason. I arrived at work to discover my computer had a terrible weekend and wasn't interested in connecting with anything at anytime.
I didn't really appreciate that kind of attitude as I'd been nursing a headache since Friday morning after my fall, not just from grace but in the bathroom. And my mood hasn't been lightened by the facial expressions made by those who, having asked how it happened, are then told.
By Sunday evening my wife insisted if I awakened with a headache on Monday that I call my primary care physician. I could pretend I live in a household of equals and tell you she asked that I call him but that is not part of the dynamic we have in our relationship. Between the throbbing above my right eye and the boat anchor on my desk, I had a headful of hurt by mid-day.
I thought I was lucky my doctor could see me until did see me. He made That Face when I told him how I fell down and then he started yelling at me which made my head hurt more (or harder. I forgot which). He didn't stop yelling for quite some time. We have known one another for about a decade so he has learned to pace himself.
He had a great story about an actress, he couldn't remember her name (and neither can I), who hit a tree while skiing and everyone thought she would be fine and they let her out of the hospital but it turns out she had bleeding in her brain and she died. The End. As he mentioned the part about the tree and skis I guessed Sonny Bono, but I was wrong. Damn. I hate being wrong.
He seemed sure I had probably given myself a concussion (if I were going to give myself anything, it would have been a pony ride) but sent me off to the hospital for a CAT Scan (I never knew until just now what it stood for and in five minutes I will have forgotten; or three minutes slower than you).
I spent most of the afternoon in various locations throughout the hospital because we do paperwork in one area and checking-in somewhere else and the actual hospital stuff gets handled in a room off the parking lot in the back.
No brain bleeding said the Doctor in X-ray whose last name I couldn't pronounce but who had a lovely smile that I hope she gets to use often by delivering mostly good news, but sad eyes that lead me to suspect that's not usually the case.
I was already off on Thursday to go to The Big E with Thelma and Louise and have an appointment with my cardiologist on Friday for which I always clear my calendar for the entire day because with him you just never know, so I didn't argue when my doctor prescribed two days of bed rest, 'like you'll actually do that' and sent me on my way.
I had enough change to get a Bit O' Honey bar out of the vending machine on my way by the chapel that I was going to share with him. But since he was so mean, I guess that'll wait for another decade or so. Like maybe the candy bar would go worse?
-bill kenny
No comments:
Post a Comment