More boring than usual. You’re warned.
Ten years ago, nowish, this happened:
Diet Barq’s, on sale at Wegmans! Oh, wait, the other thing
More accurately, particularly for insurance purposes, a deer did this, about 30 miles east of Scranton.
I came home (well, my Dad came and got me) with a scar on my chin that still gets numb sometimes, an ear that still itches, a driver’s-side shoulder that still pops out once in a while, a driver’s-side crown that does the same, a broken nose that somehow miraculously improved my breathing (if it whistles a little), and little to no memory of March and April 2006. (I think I’ve told this story, but if not: My memory of the Masi Marjamaki goal from the night before is from the center-ice camera, not from where I was sitting in the press box, because seeing it on film is the only memory I have of it.) My short-term memory has never been the same. I’d love to say I’m joking, but the notes scattered around my kitchen table say otherwise. It’s like One Hundred Years of Solitude in there.
A lot has come back, some things more slowly than others, like the ability to make deadline, which took, what, like a year and a half. (Sorry, Gary, Dave, Gino, Aviv, everyone there then); was never a conversationalist, but stringing thoughts together verbally is still a struggle sometimes. (Sorry, every source in the past 10 years.) But I assume a lot never will come back, and that’s been a struggle, too. Basically been “upper-body, day-to-day” for 3,653 days.
Ten years ago was kind of the olden days in concussion treatment. Honestly, it seems sometimes as if 10 minutes ago might be the olden days, and I’m thrilled it appears to be making progress. I wonder if I could have done better, faster if I’d seen a neurologist whose advice didn’t end at “rest.” But it’s past. Ten years past. Yeesh.
I guess the short version:
Concussions suck. Take care of your head. Help’s available. Get it.
Much love to Gin in the ambulance (from Naugatuck, of all places), Bill in radiology and all his coworkers at Wayne Memorial Hospital, and everyone else who showed up that night/morning in Blooming Grove.
And please wear your seat belt. Even in the back. Waking up upside-down sucked. But I woke up in my seat and not in I-84 somewhere. It was a start.