Jaina (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
effervescible) wrote2007-01-22 11:20 am
effervescible) wrote2007-01-22 11:20 am
Entry tags:
Goodbye, dear friend, goodbye
I think my head crater is going away. :(
This is probably, technically, a good thing. It means head healing, and lord knows my brain needs all the help it can get. But at the same time...I'm gonna miss my crater, a little bit. We've become pals. (He won't confirm his name, but I think it might be Paul.) In memorial to Paul, I'm gonna tell the story of how we met. I gave a brief version shortly after it happened, but because lately I have this this about wanting a record of interesting things that happen to me, here's the extended version.
After taking a shower on Thanksgiving, I was putting stuff away in the guest room I was staying in, which is where my sister-in-law's neurotic cat likes to hang out, even though she gets freaked out by strangers. Against the wall, perpendicular to the bed, was a giant set of drawers with molded corners that was a bit higher than bed-height. Think of the furniture in an L shape. Without getting to my knees, kinda crouched/swung my head down to see of Crazy Kitty was still hanging out under the bed. She wasn't. Without being terribly aware of the space around me, I swung my head back up. Mr. Bureau Corner Molding met with the back top of my head.
Ow.
I know it hurt, in the same way I know the sky is blue--it was an objective fact I knew immediately, but it was less pain than a sudden and immediate focus of my entire consciousness on the spot where I hit my head. This feeling can be summed up as "OH SHIT."
I knew immediately I'd hit my head REALLY FUCKING HARD and this was bad. Actual thought process: "Am I going to pass out? Shit, I hit my head really hard, I might pass out. Is it getting black? Fuzzy? No? Okay then." This happened in the space of maybe two seconds. And then I reached up to touch my head and felt...a hole.
THAT freaked me out. It wasn't a skull fracture or anything--you couldn't reach in and touch my brain and make me suddenly crave mangos or something. It ended up not even needing stitches. But shit, your hand isn't supposed to go IN when you touch your head! AHHH WTF. And then the second time I pulled my hand away, there was blood on it.
This was a job for Mommy. So I staggered out onto the landing and hollered that I had hit my fuckin' head REALLY hard and I needed HELP arrrrgh. And yes, there was crying involved. And Mommy and Daddy (at times like this, they are truly Mommy and Daddy) came and made everything better and helped staunch the bleeding since my arm got tired doing it and when they say head wounds bleed, they are NOT KIDDING. Later, I looked at the bloody tissue in the trash and there was a lot more than I expected. Eyyurrggh. I was left with a hole in my head ("crater" seemed to be the best term since it didn't go all the way through, like a portal to my brain) and an l-shaped cut where the corner hit it.
It's been two months now and you can still feel it's there if your finger brushes the right spot. (I remain amazed that some people actually WANT to touch it. Ew.) But it's definitely...filling in? It's more shallow, definitely. Flatter. Less obviously the result of a wound instead of a natural flat spot on the head. It might not be there in another month. I'll kinda miss it. It makes my head more interesting.
This is probably, technically, a good thing. It means head healing, and lord knows my brain needs all the help it can get. But at the same time...I'm gonna miss my crater, a little bit. We've become pals. (He won't confirm his name, but I think it might be Paul.) In memorial to Paul, I'm gonna tell the story of how we met. I gave a brief version shortly after it happened, but because lately I have this this about wanting a record of interesting things that happen to me, here's the extended version.
After taking a shower on Thanksgiving, I was putting stuff away in the guest room I was staying in, which is where my sister-in-law's neurotic cat likes to hang out, even though she gets freaked out by strangers. Against the wall, perpendicular to the bed, was a giant set of drawers with molded corners that was a bit higher than bed-height. Think of the furniture in an L shape. Without getting to my knees, kinda crouched/swung my head down to see of Crazy Kitty was still hanging out under the bed. She wasn't. Without being terribly aware of the space around me, I swung my head back up. Mr. Bureau Corner Molding met with the back top of my head.
Ow.
I know it hurt, in the same way I know the sky is blue--it was an objective fact I knew immediately, but it was less pain than a sudden and immediate focus of my entire consciousness on the spot where I hit my head. This feeling can be summed up as "OH SHIT."
I knew immediately I'd hit my head REALLY FUCKING HARD and this was bad. Actual thought process: "Am I going to pass out? Shit, I hit my head really hard, I might pass out. Is it getting black? Fuzzy? No? Okay then." This happened in the space of maybe two seconds. And then I reached up to touch my head and felt...a hole.
THAT freaked me out. It wasn't a skull fracture or anything--you couldn't reach in and touch my brain and make me suddenly crave mangos or something. It ended up not even needing stitches. But shit, your hand isn't supposed to go IN when you touch your head! AHHH WTF. And then the second time I pulled my hand away, there was blood on it.
This was a job for Mommy. So I staggered out onto the landing and hollered that I had hit my fuckin' head REALLY hard and I needed HELP arrrrgh. And yes, there was crying involved. And Mommy and Daddy (at times like this, they are truly Mommy and Daddy) came and made everything better and helped staunch the bleeding since my arm got tired doing it and when they say head wounds bleed, they are NOT KIDDING. Later, I looked at the bloody tissue in the trash and there was a lot more than I expected. Eyyurrggh. I was left with a hole in my head ("crater" seemed to be the best term since it didn't go all the way through, like a portal to my brain) and an l-shaped cut where the corner hit it.
It's been two months now and you can still feel it's there if your finger brushes the right spot. (I remain amazed that some people actually WANT to touch it. Ew.) But it's definitely...filling in? It's more shallow, definitely. Flatter. Less obviously the result of a wound instead of a natural flat spot on the head. It might not be there in another month. I'll kinda miss it. It makes my head more interesting.
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Actually, I once had this happen to a lesser extent on my leg - in 8th grade we were playing something in science class involving people standing around the room and I was on steps, and someone fell into me and I fell into the pointy edge of this grate that was on one of the steps, and had a crater in my leg for quite a while. It didn't bleed, though, thankfully, it was just super nasty.
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I say this only because you're still living and said crater hasn't caused any permanent brain damage, but dude, the image that I get of you wimpering for your parents to fix your bloody head just made me laugh SO hard.
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Unserious answer: I'll thank you to keep your private life to yourself, thank you. ;)
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*withdraws outstretched hand*
S'probably for the best it wasn't something you could touch your brain through.
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