The way Concussionland goes is that you have a good day, sometimes several good days. And then you have a bad day.
I had a couple of really good days this week. Didn't need to use my cane, ran errands, pranced in and out of stores like I was a real person.
Today the Brain Injury Gods noticed.
Mr. escapee and I were in a department store to exchange a pair of shorts I'd bought him on a good day last week. We were walking down an aisle and I staggered a little, then got upset when Mr. escapee tried to help me. Bad sign.
While he stood in line at Customer Service, I sat on the base of a display. An elderly man asked me if I needed help. I think I stared blankly at him and got up and headed unevenly for Mr. escapee, who said, he said, "You're very pale".
And I fainted. Apparently I fell forward into him, and he grabbed me and levered me down to the floor. By the time I came around again, I was being attended to by one of the store clerks who is a nurse, but works a second job there (this country is so fucked up), ice packs and ambulance coming and shit. Shit.
Only 2 hours at the hospital; medication for vertigo and the headache, stern orders to see a neurologist (on the 30th), and - the kicker - since this started as a good day, and turned bad so quickly, they reported me to DMV. No license anymore.
I feel like they revoked my license to be. I have no idea how my husband can handle all my doctors' appointments and keep a full-time job. I am mortified and angry and hurting and dizzy and confused.
I liked me a lot better before all this happened. I didn't complain so much. I'm sorry.