I Gave Myself A Concussion

I'm sort of known for my clumsiness. I trip over my feet, I snag my toes on doorways, I bang my funny bone into walls. I blame my extra long extremities. Typically my injuries are superficial and my accidents are more of a nuisance than a source of concern. My clumsiness has been kind of funny.

And then one day I gave myself a concussion.

It happened on Saturday around lunchtime. I was doing laundry in my mom's laundry room when I walked into a sloped wall/ceiling, knocking myself silly for a moment. I knew that I hit my head really hard, but I never had a headache so I wasn't too concerned. I wanted to take a nap though, so I did.

When I woke up, I felt off. I was slightly dizzy and somewhat nauseated. I could still function alright so I took the girls to church and out to dinner with my brothers and sisters in law. Everyone thought I was acting a little loopy, but I felt mostly fine. I didn't worry about it.

On Sunday morning, all of that changed. I woke up unable to get out of bed. The room was spinning 100 miles per hour and I couldn't stand up. When I did, I vomited. It happened to be the morning my mom went on an overnight school trip with my youngest brother so I was alone with the girls, completey incapable of caring for them. I called my brother and sister in law to come over and help.

In the meantime, I googled. Big mistake. Googling health problems is the dumbest thing a person can do when they are faced with a health problem. I read things about diminished brain function, coma, and death. My sister in law found me in tears whispering about how I didn't want to die from a concussion...

At that point, everyone decided it was best that I went to the ER. We were all pretty sure I had a concussion with the dizziness and vomiting I was experiencing, but I wanted to be sure there wasn't anything worse going on with my brain since I couldn't stand up.

4 hours and a CT scan later, I was diagnosed with a (self-inflicted) concussion and given a Zofran for the nausea. I still felt horrible, but was relieved that my brain wasn't bleeding or permantly damaged. I came and home rested and accepted my family's help with the girls. I went to bed praying for a full recovery by this morning.

Today, I feel great. I woke up with some dizziness. Everything seemed slanted and distorted so I was still a little off. I prayed and by lunchtime, all dizziness was gone (praise God!). I feel totally normal now and am believing that my head is at 100% capacity for good. Amen!

As for the wall that knocked me down, well, it's still there. I've determined that I won't be doing anymore laundry while I'm here. It is definitely too risky.

Owning It

I don't like fish. This is something I've hidden for many years. I've pushed crab cakes around my plate and choked down microscopic bites of shrimp pretending I was eating it for far too long. I've decided enough is enough. I'm sick of this charade. I just don't like fish.

This is not an easy thing to admit. Liking fish seems like a very "adult" thing to do. You are born, you grow up, you get married, you eat fish. It's the natural progression of things. And if you are an adult and don't like to eat fish, people look at you like you are 12 and like that filet you just ordered is equivalent to a happy meal.

But the thing is, I like filets. I always have. And I just want to order my filet without the pressure of trying someone's cedar planked salmon. No thank you, I don't like fish. 

I don't just not like the taste of fish, I have a physical reaction to it. My throats closes up, I gag, I can't swallow. This all might be psychosomatic, but it's real and it freaks me out. Plus, I have never smelled an appetizing piece of fish. Ever. It all smells, well, fishy. Like ocean vomit. 

I wished I liked fish, I really do. It's low calorie and the health benefits are undeniable, but I want to barf every time it's near me. I try it every so often, just to be sure my taste buds haven't changed. But it's always the same reaction. Dry heave, gag, wave of nausea. So I'm finally going to own it; I just don't like fish and I'm not ashamed anymore. Pass the filet. 

One Of The Family

One of the hardest things about living 2500 miles away from our family is hearing about what everyone is up to instead of being apart of it. In the past 10 months, I've missed Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, birthdays, pregnancies, funerals, happy things, sad things, family dinners, weddings, first birthdays, and so much more. Thankfully, there is Facebook and Instagram and cell phones to keep me in touch and up to date on all of our family's happenings.

It's not the same though. I want to be there. I want to rub my sister in law's swollen belly. I want to feast on Christmas desserts and gorge myself on Easter ham at my Nana's house. I want to be apart of the stories, not just hear about them from my mom.

And for the next month, I get to do just that. My mom just landed at LAX and is staying with us for a week before the girls and I head to Tennessee for the rest of the month. I can't wait. I know I only have a month to spend with everyone, but I want to do as much as I can. I plan to cram in as much family time as I possibly can. I get to be apart of the stories of my family's life for a short time and I can't wait.

I miss these guys.