Greetings, readers. This past Tuesday my friend and I were walking along, minding our own business, when I passed out. I fell forward, knocking her over and injuring her. Most of that morning and afternoon in the emergency room is a blur now, but it didn’t take long for the guilt I know I shouldn’t have to set in. Smith has told me numerous times that it was an accident, and that she does not blame me. Oh, what a good friend I have.
It’s now Sunday afternoon and most of the guilt is gone. I really felt terrible when she told me that she did indeed receive her second concussion. She still was not quite over the one she suffered 18 months ago. I just hope that she doesn’t suffer any more memory issues. My memory is not what it used to be, so I can relate to Smith’s frustration. She tells Traci and me that her, “….memory used to be my strong point. Not anymore.”
It’s a little more than an hour later than it was when I stopped for a supper break.
Listening to Smith tell me that friends of hers would come to her when they couldn’t remember something breaks my heart every time. It got me to wondering just how many concussions I have suffered over the years. To my surprise… and horror, I count three. Yikes!
The first one was during the summer, during my elementary school years. I was probably ten or eleven. I was riding my bike in the circle in my former neighborhood, when my feet slipped off the pedals. I was heading right for the curb and struck it. The bike stopped and I didn’t. I went up over the handlebars, landing head first in the grass. I can honestly say I know what amnesia feels like, because when I got up and looked at my own house, I didn’t know it was my house. I had no clue for about five seconds. To say that it freaked me out would be an understatement.
Incident number two was in junior high school. The school day was over and we were heading to our lockers in the commons area. I felt someone’s foot tangle with mine, and the next instant I knew, I was lying down on a teacher’s desk. When my mom got me home, she told me to rest up and report any unusual symptoms. I told her that my head pounded when I bent over. We immediately went to the emergency room.
Concussion number three was many years later during a bowling outing in Maine. Friend Dave and I were getting set to do battle, and after choosing my ball, I did not clear the ball rack. The top of my head cracked the underneath section of the beverage bar, and I can honestly say that I saw stars. Dave and I should’ve stopped bowling right there, but we were young teenagers who thought nothing could hurt us. Every time I bent down to bowl, my head hurt. Needless to say, we only bowled one game that evening. We were going to make it a best two out of three. Buddy Dave checked on me periodically throughout the night. I was oblivious to the fact that you are not supposed to let a concussion victim sleep for more than two hours at a time without awaking them. They might not wake up!
Having said all this, I know full well that my elderly friend Smith needed a second concussion like a kick in the teeth. You should’ve seen her when I apologized. She told me exactly what I thought she would say. Smith told me that it was not my fault, that I had no control over it and that she was glad that I was okay. We do look out for one another. Smith, Traci and I will continue to watch out for one another, for we are the self-proclaimed Three Musketeers.
Until Wednesday, enjoy the rest of your weekend and early week. Rebecca and I will be here to post the next entry Wednesday afternoon. Until then take care, love one another, and as always, happy reading.
josephmkockelmans 