Last Thursday, the 4th August, I say the date because time has been shaken up into a new and more watery condition. I like water… the place I am most held… anyway, on that day, I fell very hard on my head, quite simply mis-stepping in my garden off a very low wall. I thought I would find ground, but instead I found space and I fell like a sandbag, hitting my head on a cast iron bench.
Very, very strange, new country.
After managing to find someone to cancel my line of work, I called 111. Not nice… has no-one thought about how to deliver this service to people, all in one way or another in distress? (Rhetorical question, obviously)
Eventually, a person, questions = ambulance.
It felt excessive.
I felt embarrassed.
I had thought, with dread in my bones, I’d be told to go to A&E, but apparently I sounded like I had/could have a brain injury, so A&E came to me.
2 incredibly relational, kind men arrive in my bedroom, and I am really seen, heard, and got.
I wept with gratitude.
They said I should really go to hospital with them for 6-10 hours of monitoring.
I said, I’d like to self/friend monitor here.
They said, absolutely. It’s lovely here… can we stay here.
We agreed that I was stable, and hadn’t escalated, that I understood the red flags that could happen, and would call 999 asap if I started un-ravelling, that a friend would call every 45 minutes to make sure I still knew what day it was.
Did I say how kind they were?
I felt fathered and brothered… 1 young Aussie, and 1 older dad/bloke kind of chap.
I had to not work last week (what is a week?)
I’m working gently this week… a precious person is landing in my zoom room soon.
This is a little impulse to check in, to say, oh here I am, I’ve been somewhere, and I’m still coming back. Like going any somewhere, we come back a little bit different… I’m just tasting the different, like the space where a tooth came out. I lost something, though I couldn’t tell you what… and it feels like a blessing, not something I need to get back.