Thursday, 3 March 2016

... I understood his meaning ...

by Simone McPherson
 Sometime after 4pm on November 2nd 2015 at the Princess Alexandra Hospital in Brisbane, a familiar face popped itself around the corner of my little curtained room and said “G’day Sweetie”.  This face I did remember; though his name was a little further away, it was El Ranchero here to take me home. 

 “How did you get here?” I inquired.  “In the Toyota”, he said.  I smiled as El Ranchero gave me a cheeky grin, “and it only took me four hours”.  “Oh really?” … I really did not have any concept of time or of witticisms, I was rather lateral in my understanding and thinking.

 “I have no clothes” I said, though El Ranchero had thought to bring me a brush and underwear and flip-flops.  “I can’t walk out of here in these?” 

“Why not?” El Ranchero said, ofcourse I missed that little bit of cheekiness in my present state of mind.   Moments later El Ranchero appeared with a nurse and some second hand clothing that they have on hand for such eventualities as mine.  I was grateful.

On our drive home everything was so bright to almost over brilliant.  The light was too intense for my eyes and as El Ranchero drove through traffic it was as if everything was moving too fast … not that he was speeding it was though I could not take in the images and process the information as it passed by.  This I was to find, a little later down the track was part of the Trauma I had sustained to my brain.  These symptoms that were to prevail for the next three months or so were a type of Migraine.

I was informed that there are many types of Migraines and in my case it was my body telling me to rest as my own body needed to do some repairs.  To find the missing “files” and re catalogue them in their correct places and spaces, to re connect the webbing from my brain to my skull. You see it was not the fall that I had just had the day before; that had brought me to have that seizure and to be airlifted to Brisbane.

 It was an injury that I had had the year earlier 2014, in-fact the 20th of November 2014.  Where I was thrown and then as I hit the ground I was “whipped” out and I do remember my helmet making a tremendous crack as my head hit the ground and of being winded as I lay face down in the dirt.  I walked home in tears that afternoon only a kilometre or so as we were on our way home after work, Porky Girl shied at a canter and that was that.

I had a pain which I still have to this day which I can only describe as the size of a Macadamia nut behind my right ear inside the base of my skull.  I find myself rubbing it every now and then and I do get a strange ache there though I am told there is nothing to worry about.

And as a result of that fall back then I had already done the damage.  From what the Neuro Surgeon tells me, it appears that the ‘webbing’ that connects our brains to our skull was torn and it was basically a seizure waiting to happen, slushing my brain up against my skull as I fell of the horse. 

So for the next four to six months I had to be careful of my head with any sudden movements, jolting or  even just tripping and falling over could be terminal, but at the same time he said he did not want me wrapped up in cotton wool, I understood his meaning , slowly, slowly.  His main concern was clotting which was reduced by the daily intake of an Aspirin, which I still do.

So there was to be absolutely no more Horse riding for me of any description, nor motorbikes and such either.

… to be continued …