Head injury: 1 week on

Flashbacks…

The light flashes on: I am in the back of an ambulance: There’s a person outside the open door, I cant make out who, and bustle all around, noises, people, its all confusing. The light is not on long enough for me to work out what is happening. Blackness again.

A curtained cubicle. I am lying flat on my back. I sense someone to my left. I can’t make out who it is. A man is talking about having to cut off my top. Blackness again.

A donut shaped machine: there is a whirring noise, I can see the machinery moving above me. A voice tells me that I must remain very still. I feel terrified. Then blackness.

I am lying on a bed, in a bay, I quickly work out that it must be accident and emergency. Through the open door I can see a notice board. My name is written on it, in a box that says ‘triage’. I can’t work out what that means. Mark is in the room with me. He has a carrier bag. I can’t hear the words he is obviously saying to me, all I can see is the helmet in his hand, it is in three pieces. That was on my head I think to myself. The doctor says something about being very lucky, and had I not been wearing it, it doesn’t bear thinking about. Then he is gone.

Through the open door, two policemen appear. It is clear Mark knows them, they smile, a conversation resumes. I can’t make sense of what they are saying at first. They talk about witnesses, a lady in a van, cyclists, what are they talking about? They tell Mark that they cannot pursue investigations. I must have talked to them because they gave me the lady’s phone number, then they too were gone.

My next memory: the words ‘admitted’ and the bed is wheeled out of the bay and along a corridor.

A frightening way to start your Saturday, would you not agree?

Gradually, over the next few days, I discovered that I was in fact found unconscious in the middle of a roundabout by a passing motorist. What happened? No idea. I cannot remember a thing. Amanda tells me that she found me in the road, not moving, that’s why she called 999. Thank goodness for Amanda.

The last I remember I was cycling along, I have no idea what happened next, not a clue.

At 7.58am Amanda made a call to 999, reporting that she had found a cyclist unconscious, in the middle of a roundabout. The ambulance and police arrived shortly afterwards. The policeman located ICE (in case of emergency) in my phone, and called the number at 8.13am.

Hubby: hello? (expecting me, perhaps reporting a puncture)

Policeman: hello, is that Mark?

Hubby: (confused) yes

Policeman: this is the police. Please do not be too worried but your partner has been found unconscious in the road. She is in the ambulance at the moment. Please can we arrange for you to come to the scene?

Within another ten minutes the ambulance was on its way with Mark, my husband following in the car.

It is estimated at this stage that I was unconscious for around ten minutes, and score 14 out or a possible 15 maximum on the tests the ambulance crews did on me. Yes, very unconscious it would seem.

After giving me an ECG, CAT scan and Xray, I was admitted to hospital under observation.

The first few days

I felt very unwell. I constantly felt dizzy and nauseous, and the only way I could make that stop was to lie perfectly still. I also felt very very tired, and spent much of the time sleeping. I was woken up all through the day and night for pulse, blood pressure and pupil dilation tests. I remember the nurses looking at the heart rate, alarmed, stating how low it was. Then she said, ‘oh yes, you’re an athlete, that will be why’.

I was heart broken that I had lost the reassurance of knowing my husband was near by. He was sent away, told that visiting hours were later, and he could come back then. I was alert enough to notice him smuggling me my mobile phone before he left though!

Moving about was a big effort. It made me feel very unwell, and I could feel the hot sweats and nauseous feelings increase when I attempted even the simplest thing. Despite this I was determined to get out of the hospital and begged the doctors to let me leave. I was discharged on Sunday afternoon. I still felt very much unwell.

I still couldn’t remember a thing about the incident, which I found very distressing. We drove home via the roundabout. I stood and looked at it for a good few minutes. Still nothing.

Small signs?

By Monday / Tuesday I was becoming accustomed to the sickly, dizzy ‘deck of a ship’ feeling but it was no fun at all. I still found lying perfectly still much easier an option. Very slowly, I was able to move about slightly, but the head still felt like a fizzy pop bottle that someone had shaken up really hard. The headache was excruciating and I had to force myself to take the paracetamol – I am not usually a tablet taker of any kind. I constantly felt drowsy but despite the debilitating side effects, I was bored rigid!

David Sutton, my strength coach came round on Monday and did a concussion questionnaire / assessment on me. I was asked to stand up without moving, stand on one leg, and stand with one foot in front of the other. I was unable to do any of them. I just kept falling over. We concluded that the score was a pretty significant concussion score. Re-test in a week, meanwhile, no training at all. People are beginning to ask me what happened. I wish I had an answer for them.

Merry-go-round

I liken the head feeling now to this: imagine you have just stepped off a merry-go-round. That’s how I feel now, all the time. It’s not too pleasant. And I consider that to be an improvement. I can sit up with my head unsupported without feeling dizzy. Mark tells me that by Thursday morning I was not slurring words when I woke up, and looked more alert. I realised on Thursday morning, when looking at the sink as I cleaned my teeth, that I had in fact not been seeing straight up till now, and today someone turned up the vision sharpness. All things considered, if I was to stop and think for a minute, this is pretty scary stuff.

A lovely lady from Headway came to explain head injury to me today. The point of impact for me was the cerebellum, which is responsible for balance, which certainly explains my side effects. The counter effects, when the brain bounced off the other side of my skull would account for the vision problems.

At least I know it is all normal and to be expected.

It is a little frustrating though, when you forget little things that you usually remember, ask your partner the same question several times in succession, without realising it, have mood swings that range from being completely fine with this to the depths of despair.

The most frustrating thing? When people ask what happened, my answer still has to be ‘I don’t know, I have amnesia’.

That’s the joy of a head injury. The complete unknown. Scary stuff for sure.