Alone In My Head
So here I am, nothing coming in and nothing going out.
It’s just me alone in my head.
There are no outside influences for days. My husband checks in with a phone call in the afternoon and he come’s home on the weekends.
I see the neurologist weekly, and each time I am taken aback when she says she wants to see me again in a week.
She writes me a note for work that says the date of return is To Be Determined.
A concussion is supposed to be gone in two weeks.
Each week I have to tell my neurologist about my week. Each week there is another story like how I started the laundry and thought I was doing well in the process. Then got lost somewhere between a load that was finished washing, and the clothes in the dryer that are not yet completely dry, so what do I do next?
Losing My Cool
My neurologist is the only person on the planet that believes me. She knows I am not quite there yet.
Just when I think I will be able to see her without an event, I do something completely out of character for me.
One day when my husband is home for the weekend, I am sitting at the kitchen table and I am hot.
Like my own tropical vacation hot.
I decide to walk to the thermostat as if numbers and I are friends again.
The thermostat has a digital display.
I know to switch the thermostat from heat to cool, but I spin that digital dial like it is a Roulette wheel.
It is my best shot at adjusting the temperature only to have my husband come into the room and tell me the temperature is way too high.
I scream, with fists balled and shaking my whole body,
“I’m NOT Okay!”
He is stunned.
He slowly walks over to me and wraps his arms around me. No words needed. He knows.
Continue reading the next installment of the Thumped series by Kathy Trill:
Sometimes no words are needed… or are they? Do you favor one type of support? Share below.
You can also email me at firstname.lastname@example.org with any questions.