Welcome, all, to the Concussion RefleXIons Series!
Some of you may know that I am usually in the business of posting my collection of “Instances,” but in the recent days, there have been quite a few developments in the series of events which make up my life – and I thought it might be prudent to write them in a form I will remember them down the road, during a sequential Instance when I try and recall what what it was that started it all.
It all started yesterday afternoon – but I won’t get into the details at this point.
As of this morning, I was very hesitant about the idea of going to the doctor – I assumed I would not have liked what they had to say, and I would not be able to look the other way after it had been said. But, the pain was significant enough that I had a sense that I should go, and actually listen to the advice they gave. And when I went, I felt somewhat like a kid again but with much greater awareness of consequences.
The doctor wrote me a note that day… (a thing I thought I’d never need again after finishing school). The note said something along the lines of, “under no circumstance should she be allowed back to work in the next 7 days until she comes back the following Monday and is cleared after re-evaluation.”
Had I seen this note as a kid, at first I may have panicked about school, but then, I’d have been overjoyed at the aspect of (for once) being the center of attention, while not having to worry about the responsibilities of school for a week or more. It was the dream, and it would have felt as if the world handed this gift to me.
But alas – I was not a kid this time – and the burdens of my responsibilities weighed my chest down to my pit and back up to my mind. Then… I cried, and shortly after, apologized to the doctor; while he proceeded to tell me this was a normal emotion to experience and a symptom of the pain inflicted upon my psyche caused by the rattling of my mind.
My therapist would call this “a part of a grieving process” as I react to the loss of what I have come to attribute as a large portion of my identity. To be ripped away from my work – right when they needed me most and they were relying on my unusually persistent accountability.
But even so, the days leading up to it always gave me a sense that something such as this would happen. I knew that I might rise and then I would fall – and then I would rise again and fall again, and so it would go until the very last fall. But then, I would rise again.
Nonsense aside – perhaps what I really needed was simply more time out of the routine 7 days consisting of 24 predictable hours each to reflect on myself without the burdens of technology or the internet. Or, perhaps it would lead to the least likely circumstance that I could expect.
But as I write this, I do not know what will indeed happen. And I felt it was just as good of a thought as any other to share these next 7 days of Concussion Reflections. That, and, I have absolutely nothing else I can do if I am not working at a computer or watching TV (good thing I can type with my eyes closed).
Concussion RefleXIons: Day 1 will be posted shortly – Stay Tuned!
*Any writing, ideas and art (or images thereof) you find in this post or on the site were created by Ahka Rhash ©