February 15, 2011
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Waiting for the pain to stop.
On Sunday afternoon I hit my head on the ice while (standing still) ice skating with my son. I not only got a nasty grade two concussion, I also got a lump and a headache that hurts like an arthritic trapeze acrobat that missed not only the trapeze, but the safety net on the way down. Yeh. That much. I have spent the better part of a day and a half baked on Percocet, and that still didn’t take the pain away. Yeah not fun. Yes, I’ll wear my helmet next time.
What has really struck me is that when I walk passed a mirror (because you know my house is just filled with mirrors everywhere) or relfective surface, I do not have a black eye, busted lip, swollen nose and/or other various bruises, bumps or scrapes. That was what I saw when I had headaches like that in the past, although admittedly they were never AS BAD as it is today. Very close, but still. I am not sure if I am horrified that I almost expect to see that person looking at me or that I should so vividly remember what she looked like.
Its times like this I am torn about how to feel about these reminders. Its not like this is a wonderful reminder of what I have achieved in life and how great it is. Its a reminder of the dark days of my marriage. The days I would really rather forget, not only for my own sanity, but for that of my children. They need to know what is acceptable, but they also don’t need to remember those days either.
It was over 17 months ago that I saw that face look at me. And that will be the last time.
