Feb. 9th, 2014

gfrancie: (sasek)
I have the beginnings of a house.

(you can click through the see the rest.)

Yesterday I went and bumped my head against a low part of the ceiling on our stairs. What is up with English people being so short 500 years ago? (oh yeah... that is right, nutrition and stuff.) Anyhow, it made me kind of dizzy and wobbly, and my brain smacked against the otherside of my skull causing a greater headache. I took some Tylenol and that didn't touch it, so by 6pm I broke down and called those nice people at the NHS, and they said, "yeah... get to A&E. Nowish. Like within the hour. Just to have a look." I called while everyone was eating dinner, and that made it easier to get everyone out the door. Dropped the kids off at their grandparents and then we went to A&E. It was a fairly chill Saturday night but it was before amateur hour began. I didn't have to wait very long, and a lovely in-take nurse did a quick check, gave me codeine, before sending me back out to the waiting room for a few minutes. I watched some of "The Voice", which was all right. I love Tom Jones. Was that the concussion talking? Maybe. Who cares. I also read an article in Grazia. Pleasant reading when you feel so addled in the brain. Then the doctor saw me. Will I get over the fact that people my age can be doctors? No... no I won't. She was genuinely sweet and sympathetic because I felt like an idiot for hitting my head, and having to come in. She said it was better that I show up and have it be nothing. I did a bunch of tests for her, and then a nurse checkced my blood pressure when I stood/lay down a few times. I was told that I was more or less okay. Mr. Jenner just has to keep an eye on me. I can take Tylenol, and I just have to take it easy for a day or so. I think we may put some kind of cushioning on that one corner of the ceiling.

My sister in law made me feel loads better when she told me that everyone has a headache all of the time from wacking their heads on low ceilings. (she lives in that 700 year old cob cottage, and she is very tall.) She said her brother (who is 6'3) cracked his head so hard on the stairs at Christmas, that she thought she had killed him for a moment. Her rule, "Unless there is blood, I don't bother." So this is why everyone is a little loopy in the West Country: perpetual head injury.

We ended up with a night on our own. I told Mr. Jenner, "This has been lovely. You took me to see the sights."

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