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    Today's plan: deadhead the Marie Pavie rose in the middle of the perennial bed, because it's blocking the view of the daisies and my pale-pink astilbe.

    Instead, help with scrubbing the mortar dust off the beautiful new front walk, deadhead the front beds (I was right there), then deadhead the side beds (I had to go past them), then finally get to the Marie Pavie.

    It was in the high eighties.  Very humid.  One thing I should have learned by now is that if I'm very hot, I don't think clearly and my balance goes.  And it did.  I collapsed into the rosebush.  My husband came running and tried to get me up, but I fainted.  He dragged me out.

    I'm okay.  Cool air, a wet towel to the face, cold water.  I look like I fell into a rosebush.  Feel like it, too.

    But my foolishness took out about a quarter of the daisies, may have taken out half the rose - we'll see - and destroyed the astilbe.

    The thing you ever get used to a brain injury?  How do you keep the people around you from panicking, but keeping an eye on you, because you need it?  How do you train yourself to remember you are not the same person you were?  

    How do you stop caring that you're not the same person you were?

    "Republicans are poor losers and worse winners." - My grandmother, sometime in the early 1960s

    by escapee on Sat Jun 22, 2013 at 05:21:12 PM PDT

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