So perhaps you know, or perhaps you don’t but I've been a bit idle lately. And trust me, it was not by choice. It was something silly when I took a good face-first-tumble while chasing about my favorite little toddler. A friend watched helplessly when in an instant I slipped and fell to the floor. My tumble happened all too quickly. I remember my head actually bouncing (what a joy to take a smack twice) and seeing my sun glasses fly off my head. Of course it takes a second for one to realize what happened. As I counted my faculties, said cute toddler, who of course thought nothing of my fall, was ready to continue our play. I remember telling my friend that I was just going to lay there for a while ... and so I did.
The immediate headache and fuzzy feeling that took over my afternoon as I ran my errands should have been a sign. My embarrassing flop as it turned out gave me a concussion. That evening I started having a bit of trouble with my speech and when I tried to read, the words did not want to come out as I had intended. “My home hurts” I even told my husband. The word "head" was lost and it was as if someone else said it, and I could do nothing. Pain meds and absolute rest were the prescription. No TV, no reading, no work, no anything. Dear husband read the newspaper to me. I only listened to a few of my favorite movies. I napped in short intervals.
Still dismissing the severity of my little incident, after only a few days, I wanted to jump back into my routine. Some things however still were off-putting. My right wrist was swollen and stiff. My left arm felt limp and it was as if I had lost “power” to it. My head felt like it weighed a ton and the strength it took to hold it on my shoulders was taxing. And why on earth could I not remember things?
Off I headed to my favorite miraculous holistic chiropractic doctor. Sprains, tears, deep bone bruises, whiplash and a little brain trauma were on the diagnosis bill of fare. I was glad she asked how my memory was as that little symptom was the most aggravating of all to me. Frequent visits, Kinesiology taping, therapy and cold laser treatments to muscles and my brain stem were what I required.
Frustration can kill creativity. An artist can only sit around for so long and when the act of creating hurts, it gets worse. And so there I sat for what felt like an eternity. Post-it notes were a part of each day to help me remember little things. I quickly learned early on that while having a conversation with someone that when a certain look fell over their face I must have said the wrong words and my sentence most likely lacked any sense. I grew bored. I didn’t get out of the house much and to top things off - now even though the swelling had left my nose, it rattled when I rubbed it. Busted cartilage aside, I honestly felt depressed. I lingered in my pajamas far too long during a typical day. I wanted to paint. I wanted to have enough concentration to read, I wanted to start each day happily, but I didn’t.
I recently threw myself into a little home decorating project and that thankfully (along with having the world's best husband!) has helped my outlook. The stress of feeling behind on my work has been hard to let go of, but I have to do so in order to let the creativity start flowing once again. I have said from the start of “this” that the hardest part of healing is having the patience to do so.
And so there it is ... the explanation of my absence. I type this hoping that at the very least, this little bump has taught me to be a bit more patient. Yes there are some residual effects. I may not remember something, my wrist still isn’t my best friend, and this little brain rattle still can turn a sunny day to gray but this too shall pass ... and all will be right again soon.