While preparing lunch for my daughters yesterday morning, I got a mild concussion.
Years ago I somehow acquired a wooden cutting board. I don't use it for cutting. It is my bread and pastry board. I use it for biscuits, braiding yeast bread, making rolls, pie crust, all kinds of things when I'm in the mood. I keep it on the top shelf of the pantry. It has been sitting there safely for more than six years. Until yesterday.
As I knelt to get some applesauce, I felt the corner of the board strike me directly on the back of my head, right where the whorl is. I made some exclamation and hit the ground. I saw stars. I heard, "Mommy? Are you okay?"
"No. Call your dad."
"I don't know how."
"He's not at work. He's upstairs. Just go get him." I heard Inwe yell up the stairs.
Phill found me crouched over on the floor still holding my head. There wasn't blood, but every part of my head was hurting. I was able to stand after a few minutes. I even went through the rest of the day, which was busy, but I was aware that the thoughts in my head weren't getting to my mouth correctly. Complex logical strings weren't my strong point yesterday. I kept it simple for fear of sounding like a complete idiot.
By the time the Halloween festivities were over I had a headache that completely controlled me. I still have the headache. Last night the headache was so bad that even with pain killers it took three hours for me to fall asleep. I hope the headache gets better today. I've had enough of it.
And, Phill moved the pastry board. Can you imagine if it had been one of the little ones?