The Curious Case of the Exploding Head

This week has been proof (again) that things can change in an instant. Example: a world-class, head-thumping concussion. I sound like a drama queen-but I'm feeling like one right now.

Last Monday I had my colonoscopy/gastroscopy with loads of tissues taken for biopsy (five, if you really want to know.). So they told me as I was leaving the hospital not to drive or sign contracts for twenty-four hours. But-did they say not to do any exercises? No, they did not. Duh-the patient is supposed to figure that out for herself, right? Not exactly.

Less than a day after the procedures (complete with sedation, I have to add, so I don't seem totally retarded), I decided - in my infinite wisdom, which deserted me completely last Tuesday - that I would go along to Tai Chi because a bit of gentle exercise would probably help me feel better. Double duh. Never let it be said that I don't do my share of dumb things, and this was really a classic.

I was just standing there, minding my own business, listening to the instructor, when -bang!! I keeled over backwards, out cold, and smacked my head (and everything else) on the hard floor. I don't remember any of it, except that I was carted off in an ambulance to the hospital, where I spent the next five and a half hours being poked, prodded, blood-letted, and scanned all over the place. Amazingly, I didn't break any bones, but I did end up with bruises on top of bruises: enough to cause me to be fairly unable to move, stand, walk, and so on. I was also informed that I was lucky that I didn't fracture my skull, but I have a concussion, so I have to be vigilant for the next few weeks, just to see if the side effects increase. Who knew that I have such a hard head?

So I've got the mother of all concussions. Last week I thought that my head was going to explode. If you've ever had a concussion, you know exactly how I felt. Now it's a week later, and I'm still being a drama queen- but only when I'm by myself. I feel more than a bit stupid for even considering doing anything the day after surgery. That'll teach me to think before I act.

So I actually did follow directions this week; I rested, I was careful, my balance paid a huge price for my silliness, and there was a great deal of swearing and gnashing of teeth as I tried not to fall over. It wasn't a very pleasant week. But-I was lucky that the blackout happened indoors, and not out in traffic. That would have been very messy, not to mention exceedingly painful. And possibly fatal.

So now I'm starting to walk as much as I can again, and force myself not to be afraid of another blackout. Last Friday I went to see my vestibular physiotherapist, having first emailed her about what happened. We spoke, I did some exercises, and she feels that the whole thing was a result of the surgery and sedation, nothing else would have caused it. I spoke with my team-and my GP-and they all agree. Apparently I'm in excellent shape-except for the concussion and all the bruising, of course.

Lesson learned. I felt well enough last night to demolish an entire bag of Kettle Chips (salt and balsamic vinegar-yum), and I felt disgusting afterwards (too much food. Way too much food at one sitting). That tells me that I must be on the mend. Either that, or all the bloody scans have given me brain cancer.

Really-they scan you, they x-ray you, they scan you again-if the fall doesn't kill you, the radiation will.

In A&E (the emergency room), the doctors are all junior doctors-like interns, with only limited experience and training. So they look at you, go back to their registrar who's in charge, and there's this big kerfuffle over what to do next. They kept telling me that they think it's a heart problem. I said that I had every test known to mankind last year, and my heart is perfectly normal. Then they said: lungs. No, I said, it isn't lungs. Vestibular? They asked. No, I said, it isn't vestibular. Well, how do you know all this information? The one little doctor asked, finally getting annoyed. I told him the truth: I was a professor of anatomy and physiology.

That was the end of that conversation. And here I am, a week later, on the mend. But I think I ruined the little doctor's day...