One More Brain Injury

In late February, on a magical, snow-covered walk, feeling exuberant about my gaining strength and energy, when black ice caught me unaware. Thud went my head against the blacktop! As I came to consciousness, my friend, Kevin, was leaning over me to help me to my feet. With my head throbbing, I felt loopy and weak. He led me into the nearby church and onto a chair where friends were having coffee and conversation.
Feeling outside of time, I held still mentally examining the immediate effects of my fall. Concentration was difficult. Ordering my thoughts was beyond my ability. Suddenly Mike was at my side having been called by one of the women present who correctly assessed I was not in my right mind. Once my husband was at my side, relief wrapped 'round me and I allowed him to lead me to the car and home. Kevin rode along. Not long afterward, Leora arrived, the person designated to check on my welfare.

At home, my brain gradually settled down closer to normal accompanied by a dull pain as Mike and I pondered what to do. Friends, a doctor and a physical therapist, were expected for lunch;. Since lunch had been prepared the day before, instead of canceling we decided to wait until the doctor arrived. Bill took less than a minute to state that a CT-scan was in order. "You may have a bleed." he said.

"The food is ready. I'm not going to the ER without eating so let's just eat." I said. And so we did.

Unbeknownst to me, Mike had left a message at my local neurosurgeon's office explaining what had happened and asking for direction. Within moments after Bill and June vacated the premises, Dr. Schmidt's assistant phoned advising us to proceed to the ER for a CT-scan reiterating the concern of concussion.

We entered the ER at 3:45 p.m., eight hours after I fell. Another seven hours passed before I was admitted for observation. The ICU doc determined I had a fingertip-sized bleed deep in the left parietal lobe area - the site of my first surgery and said I needed close supervision for a couple of days.
Next morning, Dr. Schmidt was at my bedside saying my vital signs were close to normal and he was discharging me to go home and 'take it easy'. A follow-up appointment was scheduled for two weeks hence.

Fatigued and fragile, uninterested in doing much, I proceeded to watch for any changes in my pupils, my balance, or my eyesight. Taking lots of naps helped my eyesight. In a few days, the headache subsided to the point I no longer needed pain relievers, even aspirin. While my speech regressed a bit it was just those damned subcategories getting mixed up. I was more often saying daughter instead of mother, or hot instead of cold, or the like. Mike tried to reassure me I'd not gone in reverse. "It's a new situation - not a backwards direction." With my thinking slowed and flawed, I decided not to drive until getting checked out two weeks later.

The weekend arrived with a return to headaches and more fear. Unfortunately, Mike hadn't been present to hear Dr. Schmidt's explanation of concussive syndrome, nor his description of symptoms that might be of concern, all of which was wasted on me. I had listened carefully but remembered no more than a few symptoms so when my headaches returned, I was unnecessarily alarmed and Mike was lacking enough information to reassure me.

I phoned Dr. Schmidt's office and spoke with the on-call physicians assistant. She wasn't definitive, saying I could wait until Monday or, if I was afraid, getting another scan done wouldn't be out of line. Mike walked with me once again to the ER. The CT-scan showed I was healing nicely and was sent home feeling foolish. Mike returned having caught a nasty virus that laid him low for more than a week.

I'd almost made it safely through the winter. A week later, the daytime temperatures reached 60 degrees.