Courtesy of smacking my head on some shelves on Friday. It was a Pretty Hard Smack. I saw stars, felt sick, burst into tears and had to sit down for a while. Things flew off the shelves and tumbled across the floor, the dogs shot out of their beds and were over by the door before they knew what had happened and the wooden elephants who live on the shelf toppled over each other and ended up in an untidy elephanty-heap around a capsized vase. Thank God the new EB vases I bought this summer didn't smash. Then I really would have been
I shrugged the headache off the next day, having got M to test that my pupils were working properly by shining a torch in them, and went out for a run. But yesterday at college I found I couldn't think straight or concentrate, and ended up misspelling words on the white board, and only realising I'd misspelt them some twenty minutes later having looked at them several times and not noticed. Not like me At All. It took me a while to realise it was probably concussion and I should probably go and see the GP.
I don't generally do Doctors. I am of the 'give it a few days and if it hasn't gone away maybe think about seeing the Doc, maybe' school of thought. The only time I'd go quickly after an accident now is if I thought I needed an xray, and that's only because if you leave it a few days it isn't free as per A&E, and private xrays aren't cheap.
I learnt that after I fell heavily on my hand after performing an impressive but entirely unintentional somersault through the air off a horse who, at a gallop, had himself had been brought down by one of those hideous hidden bogs the New Forest specialises in. The somersault may have been impressive (according to F, who was watching) but unfortunately the landing was less elegant and my left hand ended up squashed and twisted under me in a way hands are generally not designed to go.
It was extremely painful but I got back on because we were in the middle of the forest and what else do you do? And lasted about ten minutes before I had to concede I was in quite a lot of pain and couldn't actually use the injured hand. I didn't go to the doc (because of the whole 'it'll be fine in a few days, don't fuss' thing) but a week later I was forced to because I couldn't use the hand. It wasn't broken as it happens and I carried on riding and competing with it strapped up while it healed (which took about 18 months - ironically far longer than if it had been broken. It still twinges now, four years later if I catch it wrong). Anyway, I learnt a lesson: if you think you've broken something get it xrayed asap.
That was possibly the last time I went to see the GP. This morning he told me I have to rest for 2-3 days and it should be fine. Grrrr. I don't really do resting. He said no running either. Pffft. At least I have a very good excuse if my first proper session with the first years later this week ends up a disaster.
In Other News, the Siskins are back. I thought I heard them chattering away together in the trees by the lake yesterday. My ears are used to all the regular birds so when someone new calls it stands out a mile and my ears prick up and tune to it. I didn't see them but they often turn up here in Autumn in a big gang to feed on the alders, although they were absent last year. Siskins are a type of finch, colourful, noisy and very adept and acrobatic through the branches. They occasionally come into the garden to pinch the niger seeds and that is where I saw one of them this morning, confirming what my ears had already told me yesterday :o)
This is a male, although his colours are a little muted. Some of them are bright as bright can be. I shall now be keeping an eye out for his many wives.
Raining here (again) and I have a pile of work on nitrates to get through although sewing is calling to me....as are biscuits..... Hope this all makes sense, but if it doesn't please blame the knock on the head :o)
Right-O, onwards and upwards...
Hope all are well?