I have been dealing with a rough patch lately, but in the last week I’ve had more good days so things are looking hopeful.  But something happened yesterday that may or may not have set me back.

The day started off well; I got up before 11 am for the first time in a week and went for a run.  Context – my running routine consists of walking to the park/nature reserve a few streets away from my house, running through the bush for 45 minutes and warming down by walking home.

Being a Saturday in the school holidays, the park was crowded with picnickers and competitors in the local Frisbee golf tournament ( I have no idea either…) but I wasn’t paying attention to anyone.  I didn’t think I needed to.

Anyway, I completed my run and began walking back home, cut off from the world by my music and dark sunglasses.

Out nowhere I felt an almighty impact to the back of my head and my vision blacked out.  My limbs went slack and I dropped onto my side.  My hand started working again and automatically moved to the back of my head.  I opened my eyes and looked up incredulously.  What the hell was that?  There was no-one nearby, the picnic area was about half a kilometre away.  I figured a falling tree branch must have hit me.

While I was trying to look for the offending branch without moving my head, I heard yelling and running feet.  Suddenly I was looking up at a team of concerned Frisbee golfers.

I had been hit at the base of my skull by a Frisbee.  Not your standard lightweight Frisbee either, it was a dense plastic with narrow, sharp edges.  they explained that they had been practicing some way away.  The thrower was concerned about forcibly throwing a heavy Frisbee in a busy park, but they had assured her that “the only person around is that jogger way over there, and you’re not throwing at her anyway.”

So she hurled it with all her strength.  And it caught a freak breeze.  And rebounded off a tree and into the back of my head.  Lucky me.

I was still a bit groggy but fortunately one of the golfers was a doctor.  He started off asking me about my family to see if I was confused, but we ended up sitting on the path talking for about an hour.  By that point he was satisfied that I had no fractures or bleeds, and I convinced them that I was good to walk home, given that I live pretty much across the road.

Then as I was walking home, my housemate drove past and threw a water bottle at me because HILARITY.

I got home, showered, bandaged an ice pack to the back of my head, and sat in my darkened room to watch some tv.

And after about half an hour of this I realised that apart from a mild headache I was fine.

But I felt completely hopeless.

It’s important to rest physically and cognitively after a concussion but even though I was doing that, I couldn’t make myself do anything else like, say, paint my nails, clean my room, do my makeup.  My housemate was having a party and I found myself hiding in my room for the first half of it.  Being in the living room, with everyone talking was too much for me to handle.

Twenty four hours later I’m still feeling flat.  Not the same as the fogginess and dulled senses I’ve felt with concussions I’ve had before, and obviously I’m typing this onto a backlit screen without discomfort.  My motivation has been completely zapped.

It’s probably the unexpectedness of the incident which making me keen to stay withdrawn I guess.  Which is understandable but I hope it doesn’t stay around for too long.

But I still can’t tell the story without laughing so I’ll probably be ok.

Although I skipped the run today because…well…I don’t want to go outside.  There’s Frisbees out there.

Mac