Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The Detour

On February 14th as I returned home after work, I slipped on black ice and fell.  Hard.  I lay there doing an inventory and realized I was in tact, more or less, and thought to myself that I should have accepted that invitation to extend my vacation in Florida for a few days. Yes, I should have.  

I had a concussion.  Being the product of a mother who's only question when we got hurt as children was "Are you gonna live?" I was sure I would be fine. A little shaken up, yes.  A little nausea, sure.  A headache, well that is only to be expected.  

4 days later I got yelled at by my chiropractor and at least a half dozen friends to "stop being macho" and SLOW DOWN.  I was appropriately scared that if I didn't I would surely do further damage to the only brain I have.  It was as if I was given permission to feel the effects of the fall, and the head injury.  Much bigger headache.  Foggy brain.  Trouble concentrating.  Physical exercise made it all worse.  So 2 weeks off.  What?  Ok, I can do that.  

I proceeded to figure out the date when I could start workouts again and was sure that I could make up for lost time.  After all, 2 weeks is not an eternity, right?

Not so fast. 2 weeks had gone by and I was excited to get to the gym and sweat.  A little...since I am easing back in.  First workout did not go well.  Now I am really worried. Finally I will make an appointment with the neurologist.  Only he cannot see me for 2 more weeks.  I will take it easy until then.  Continue working but no exercise.  

Fast forward...waiting to see the neurologist I am getting anxious it is something more serious.  Otherwise, I would be fine by now, right?  Apparently not.  According to the doc, some people heal in a couple weeks, others it takes a few months.  So, work if you can. Continue to limit activity.  Maybe some light walking.  

It has now been 5+ weeks of no workouts.  Talk about a detour.  

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