One day I lost consciousness for a few seconds. How many? i don't know. I was so preoccupied by the fact that from a great height the back of my skull had just hit solid concrete. It was a hard enough impact to lose consciousness or some seconds at least. In truth I have no idea if I was out the game for 5 seconds or 5 minutes. How could you know when mentally you are not there?
Anyway I ended up in hospital for a time. First locally to stabilise me with medication and three meals a day. Then when I was in a better place physically I was carted off to one of Scotland's Super Hospitals- in Govan for me: QESH. It was a great place to be in. I was well looked after and I had interactions with lots of people and honestly cannot complain about any of them. Well apart from one. Fat little red headed tosser who tried to threaten me one morning and got more than he was bargaining for. He'd obviously done it before and gotten away with it- probably more than once. Outcome: he was moved on.
So back to the doorstep. I took the dog out for a walk one morning while everyone else slept. All dood apart from the dog pulling as he tends to do. I got in the door to our flat which leads to an internal staircase. The dog had been pulling the whole time while out so i could not wait to get the lead off once inside. That is what I did. My arm was sore from the strain and the relief was bliss.
Until I tumbled backward that is. I reckon I stumbled backward down 6 steps before my heel hit the front door threshold and I went backward into concrete. I lay there for a while as a sight for passers-by. Finally a young boy next door was putting the bin bags out, saw me and kindly helped me up. He is a teenager. It pisses me off that adults never bothered their arse to help me.
So I am in recovery with blister packs of drugs, exercise regimes and visits from all corners of healthcare. Or at least I was. I grew tired of the whole process once I was home. In truth I just wanted to be left alone after a very long spell of attention and following orders. I wanted my freedom back and if it meant cutting off all the "help" then it was a fair trade off in my view. Its my life. So that is what I did. I went it alone much to the annoyance of my GP.
Physically I have not improved and that's on me. That said I spent a long time in hospital doing gym work and felt no benefit. To be honest physically I feel fine but its my balance which is the issue. At home I have to use a zimmer but there have been times when I have abandoned it. And in those times I feel fine and normal until my balance is given a wobble. Its a bit like in the hospital gym where we practised unaided walking between the bards. There though there was a soft landing if required and the hands hovered over the bars just in case.
Anyway that is where I am at just now. I'd like to fresh start here to see where it takes me. Hopefully over time there will be some progress in my mobility. I've rarely been out since coming home last year and on those rare occasions I left my comfort zone it was just to sit on the doorstep on a nice day. The very same doorstep that led me here.
Thankfully anxiety has not been too bad. I had a couple of episodes in the hospital which hit me really hard given I had not experienced it in a long time. The drive home was the worst of it and it brought several instances of panic which really were hard. But all the bad times are hopefully now behind me. I have chosen to recover alone and that is what I plan to do. Hopefully I will have much more positive things to say along the way.
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