AuburnChick's Adventures

After I got out of the shower this morning, I noticed that one corner of the bandaid on my forehead was peeling off.  The plastic surgeon had told me to leave it on until it fell off, which would take approximately a week.

I’m not going to lie.  Although I was getting used to seeing it, I was ready for it to come off – especially because I have training tomorrow.

I figured that it wasn’t doing as much good if it was starting to come off (see the darker edges?) – namely water and such could get underneath – so I finished pulling it off.

Let’s compare this picture to the first one, moments after I split my head open.

Vast difference, eh?  Kudos to Dr. N for the talent that God blessed him with, especially for overachieving people like Your’s Truly.

There is still an area that’s a little red and raw, but I’m sure that as time passes, it will regain its normal hue.

If you take a closer look, I’m still sporting a bit of a goose egg, but compared to the day I bumped my head and got stitches, it’s looking better.

The lighting makes a difference as to how much it stands out.  I’m sure I could cover it up with makeup, but I’m concerned about infection, so I’m leaving the area clean.  Heck, I’ve got so many scars that it would be a waste of time trying to camouflage them.

Why won’t my hair dry completely like this instead of going all 80’s on me?

There is a silver lining.

The bump on my head is stretching out my forehead wrinkles and making them almost invisible (look at the bottom right picture, which I took last month while visiting Rooster and his girl).  I’d rather get Botox, truth be told, than have a concussion to hide the wrinkles.  Just sayin’.

Perspective, y’all.

It’s all about finding joy in the journey, which I’ve become a pro at.

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Oh y’all, sometimes I wonder about myself.

I mean, for someone who’s book-smart, I do the dumbest things sometimes.

Take yesterday, for instance.

I’d gone to bed headache-free (yay) but woke up with another one.  Ugh.

I’d actually slept well, so I was discouraged because I’d hoped that I’d wake up feeling better, but hey, that’s par for the course with this little head thing I’ve got going on.

I took it easy and made lunch plans with Megan.  She picked me up, and we headed to Newk’s, where we placed our orders and sat down to chat while we waited for our food.

I love this friend of mine.  We’re starting our seventh year of working together, and she’s simply wonderful.  ❤

My pizza arrived, and I immediately noticed the cheese on it, so I asked them to remake it without the cheese, as I’d originally ordered.  I even commented to Megan that the pizza didn’t look like it usually looked.

When they brought the second pizza, it didn’t have cheese, but it still didn’t look right.  I picked up something and asked, “Is this chicken?”

Megan said that it was.

What the heck?

I thought back to what I’d ordered – the Mediterranean Pizza.  I wondered, did it come with chicken?

Megan looked at me and said, “Yes.  I was wondering what you were doing, but I didn’t say anything.”

She knows I’m a vegan, hence her questioning.

Y’all, I’d meant to order the Veggie Pizza, which I went back and reordered, essentially paying twice for lunch.

Even with the ingredients listed on the big menu board, I did what I’m becoming famous for and didn’t pay attention.

I told Megan that I hoped she liked leftovers, because dinner was on me.

This, my friends, is the story of my life.

For a reading teacher who helps students learn to pay attention to details in text, I sure don’t do a good job of paying attention in my real life.

The Mr. and I were listing some of the times I didn’t pay attention and paid the price for it.

Let’s take a stroll down memory lane . . .

Back when I was in high school, I was sleeping over at my friend’s house.  We got home from somewhere, and it was dark as we made our way to the door.  I stepped on the end of a brick in the yard, it flipped up, end over end, and hit me in the shin, breaking the skin and leaving a huge scar.  I never got stitches for that.  I probably should have.

There was that time when the Mr. and I had been married for a year, and I signed up to do a walk-a-thon, but before I could even meet the group I was going to participate with, I ran into a wood stake that was holding up an event tent.  The stake went into my lower shin, and I had to drive myself to a walk-in clinic and get stitches.  During my drive to the clinic, I had to STOP on the road to let the walkers cross in front of me. I remember that moment as if it was yesterday.

Back then, we didn’t have cell phones, and we only had one car, which I’d driven to the event.  I had to use a landline to call his parent’s house, and they had to drive him to the clinic to get me.  The doctor on call there turned out to be a friend of our doctor friend who the Mr. had gone to college with (the one we stayed with last fall when we went to Auburn one weekend).  Small world.

A few years later, when we lived in Miami, I broke about three toes running into my dining room chairs. The kicker (literally) is that I didn’t break them all the same day. Oh no sir. I broken those babies on different days. Should I have moved the offending chairs elsewhere? Yep. I’m not always the brightest bulb in the pack.

There was the time when we took the kids to Auburn for a weekend of football fun, and I lifted the back door of my car but wasn’t standing back far enough and caught my forehead with the corner of it.  I sported a goose egg that day (but no stitches).

How about the time I tripped over the sidewalk, while I was in the process of logging an extra quarter mile . . . with virtually no light available (because I’m smart that way) . . . and Rooster tenderly patched me up. It was one of those mother-son bonding moments. Silver linings, folks!

It’s hard to forget the morning I burned my hand on the straightener while I was getting ready for work – all because I didn’t look down before I grabbed it and didn’t realize that I was stepping on the cord, so when I pulled it up to my head, my grip slipped until I was holding it by the hot metal plates.  Another teacher patched me up after I stopped by CVS for gauze, Neosporin, and tape. One of my students told me I was all about the drama. You know, there are much less painful ways to create drama in your life. I mean, heck, I teach at a high school where drama lurks around every corner.

Of course, you know about the incident with my ankle.

Over the years, there have been countless bruises, bumps, and scrapes.

All because I have a habit of not paying attention.

You would think that I’d have learned my lesson by now, but nooooooooo, I’m about the world’s slowest learner when it comes to common sense.

Sigh.

The pizza thing was more evidence of that.

I have got to learn to be in whatever moment I’m in . . . to focus . . . because concrete walls do not move, nor do dogs sleeping in the middle of the floor.

Oh, and just so you know – I’m starting my Christmas list early.  At the top:  bubble wrap – body length – because, well, you know.

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Yesterday, I had an appointment to remove the stitches from my forehead.

I got up around 7:00, fed the dogs, and completed my Seamless Bible study work by the time the Mr. finished getting ready for work.

He was surprised to see me awake so early but surmised, in his words, that I was “easing back into things.”

Note to everyone:  When I retire, don’t call or text before 9am because this girl will be sleeping in all of the days.

Except for days when I have appointments.

Despite another headache, or rather a worsening of the headache that I’ve been chained to since last Tuesday, I managed to make myself presentable.

That lighting though.  ❤

Yes, folks, that’s almost full-on makeup, except for the forehead.

I am loving my highlights, by the way.  Rebecca called them sun-kissed in a comment she left me yesterday.  That’s exactly what I was going for.

I took some pain medicine because the headache, and I also applied one of my absolute favorite essential oils – Vetiver.

I am so glad that my friend, Katja, told me about this one.  It’s got an earthy/woodsy aroma that is subtle but uber-soothing.  Like seriously slide-me-into-Happy-Land-soothing.

I needed this because I’d spent an hour in bed googling symptoms for concussions, which I suspected I had despite the doctor’s “no” last week.  My nerves were a bit on edge, as anybody’s would be when having to deal with pain for extended days,

I spent the morning putting the finishing touches on a couple of projects that had recently come off of my knitting needles.  I’ll post pictures of those in a week or so.

Then, I headed to the plastic surgeon’s office.

I didn’t have to wait long to be seen – a refreshing thing given that so many offices double-book their patients.

Do you remember when I posted last week and described the doctor?

Well y’all, he was in rare form during my visit yesterday.

In the middle of taking out my stitches, which hurt like crap, by the way, and made my forehead bleed, the doctor began sniffing me.

I kid you not.

Not discreetly either.

Loud sniffs.

Last week, after a friend read my blog and called me to get more details, she guessed the name of the doctor and explained that he was from Louisiana – a true Coona$$ (if you know what I mean).

That explained the cursing . . .

And the fact that he likened himself to a dog (a hunting dog, in my opinion).

He explained that he smelled something and was trying to figure out what it was.

I lifted one of my wrists, and he began asking me questions about it.

He loved the oil.  A lot.

He said that his wife probably wouldn’t let him order it.  I told him that as The Doctor, he could order what he wanted.  I guarantee that’s what the Mr. would do.  Heck, he’s not a doctor, and he orders what he wants.  Ha!

The doctor applied a new bandage as I talked.

I wish I’d thought to take a picture before he put it on.  I didn’t get to see my head after he removed the stitches.

As he finished up, I told him about the unrelenting headache I’d been suffering from, and he said that I probably had Post-Concussion Syndrome – that I’d most likely bruised my brain a little last week.

Fortunately, I had landed on this during my morning’s research, so I understood what he was talking about.

He explained that bruising the brain is no different from when you bruise another part of your body.  It takes time to heal; in the meantime, there’s going to be pain.

He also told me that there wasn’t much I could do for it except for rest, which I’d been doing for a solid week.  Ugh.

He wrote me a couple of prescriptions for migraine medicine – one to take during the day and one to help me sleep.

I’ll give these a go for a couple of weeks and then switch over to Tylenol or Excedrin if I’m still having headaches.

Meanwhile, I’m still not working out, which the doctor agreed with.  He told me to imagine how bad of a headache I’d have if I started the workout with one.   I’m going to give myself another week and reevaluate on Tuesday.

I’ve read that it can take up to 100 days to get over a concussion for a person who is moderately active, which I’ll have to be soon with school starting back the middle of August.

My 80 Day Obsession is going to turn into the 100 Day Obsession if things keep on like this.

Sigh.

For now, I’ll continue sporting a bandage until it falls off and will soon begin massaging my forehead, per the doctor’s instructions, to work out the scar tissue.

Fun times, y’all.

More fodder for this blog of mine.

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Self-care may seem indulgent, but in reality, it’s integral to maintaining a healthy lifestyle.

Can I get an amen?

Yesterday, I indulged in a bit of this.

I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating.  I adore my hairdresser.  She’s incredibly kind, sassy as all get out, and curses like a rated R movie.  This girl does not play.  She speaks my language (except for the cursing part).

When I got to her salon, she commented on my hair and how great it looked.

Y’all, I should have taken a picture of it.  Although I had showered, I had not washed it.  I mean, why if I was getting it taken care of anyhow?

I hadn’t even brushed it.

Yep.  I go out in public with bed head.  There.  I admitted it.  The truth is that when you have naturally curly hair, a brush will ruin it.  Hello humidity and frizz!

She loved it though and thought I’d purposely styled it that way.  She’s used to seeing me with my hair straightened.

I was feeling like I should be on a Prell commercial . . . except for the forehead bandage thing.

Ahem.

Anyhoo, she began to work her magic, and I sat in her chair enjoying the pampering.

She has a son who will be starting high school next month.  He’s attending the school where I teach, so we are both excited.  In fact, she has told me that it’s largely due to our conversations over the years about my teaching there that led her to the decision to enroll him in our AICE (advanced) program.  Plus, knowing that I’m there will be a comfort to her.

All the feels, y’all.

We were the only ones in the salon, so we chatted to our hearts’ content without interruption, except when she moved me to the hair dryer.

I had not been feeling well yesterday – the ever-simmering headache was worse than the day before – but as I sat under that dryer, I started to feel better.  I later learned, from a text from Super Sis, that she’d asked her church’s leadership to pray for me during one of their meetings (she works at her church and was at the meeting).  I’m fully convinced that God provided relief at the exact time they were praying – no coincidence there.

I think my favorite part of a day at the hair salon is the actual hair washing.  It’s akin to having a pedicure without the ticklish feet part.  I could have taken a nap at this point.

Our fun continued as she proceeded to cut and style my hair.  When you’ve got hair like mine and can get it blown out straight – well – there’s something soothing about it.  You know what I mean – the pulling out of each section of hair on the round brush.  There’s a rhythm to it that’s as hypnotic as a lullaby.

Pampering at its best, y’all.

I hugged Dana goodbye as I told her to send me her son’s schedule.  She’s probably going to give me a bag of snacks for him – one I’ll keep in my closet at school so if he gets hungry, he can grab something.  I love being a school mama for my friends’ children.  ❤

I felt almost brand new as I headed home.  Not only had my hair been lightened but my mood had been as well.

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First of all, a special thanks to so many of my friends wishing me well on my head mishap.  Not one single person has made me feel embarrassed about it.

So, as I’m writing this, I’m on Day four of recovery, and wow.  Just wow.

Y’all, I really hit that wall hard and am still feeling the effects of it.

After getting home on Tuesday, all I wanted to do was sleep; however, the doctor had strongly advised against that, so instead, I cooked.

I made the Mr. some Homemade Beef Burgers and some Roasted Butternut Squash with Bacon and Thyme, which are Specific Carbohydrate Diet (SCD) friendly.

Pre-cooking

The links above go to a new-to-me website I recently discovered.

He’d eaten his last piece of cake, so I whipped up these White Chocolate Biscuit Cakes.

Some time back, I’d randomly purchased cacao butter for a recipe that I’ve since lost sight of.  The Mr. cannot have chocolate, but he can have the cacao butter, which is supposed to mimic the taste of chocolate.

After sitting in the freezer for a few hours, this is what one of the cakes looks like . . .

He is loving them!  They’re different from what he usually eats.  Win!

Now, I’ve got to tell you that the no-working-out mandate from the doctor was frustrating, even that first day.

Y’all, I have come sooooo far in my fitness!  The 80 Day Obsession program I’ve been doing (and have five days left of) has been so wonderful!  I know I’ve said this a few times already, but I’m serious!  I haven’t felt this strong in a long time and look at my abs . . .

I didn’t know that my abs could curve in like that at the top!

Can you see why taking time off from my fitness regimen was a hard pill to swallow?  I hate setbacks.  Sigh.

I decided to put on my wireless ear buds and slowly walk around the house for some safe cardio . . .

Yeah, I was icing my head too – I’m such a multi-tasker.

I sent the video to Rebecca.  We were texting each other, commiserating with one another’s physical ailments.

After my walk, I took a nap in my chair before putting the finishing touches on the Mr.’s dinner.  Then, I stayed up late watching Thor.  What a funny movie!

On Wednesday, I drove to the school and delivered some chocolate chip muffins to my friend, LeAnne.  She had texted me the evening before to see how I was doing.  She’s my dessert taste-tester, which is why I took the muffins to her the next day.  Plus, I had not seen her all summer, and I’d missed her.

She told me that she’s forever doing stuff like me, only I seem to hurt myself much more worse than she does.

What can I say?  I guess I’m just talented.

Ahem.

On the way home, I picked up a sandwich, which I’d been craving since the day before.  I sent this picture to Rebecca, who’d texted to see how I was doing.

You can still see the knot peeking out from the bottom of my bandage.

When I got home, I went for my “walk” around the house.  Pele thought I had lost my mind.  Not quite, darlin’, but I think I left part of it on that wall at school.

Y’all, the dogs were soooooo funny!  They started following me, so I had to video them . . .

You can hear me laugh a few times.  They were too cute!

They finally gave up after thirty minutes; I walked for over an hour.

Well, I was tired after and settled in for another nap in my chair.

I think I got up and washed dishes at some point.  I honestly can’t remember how the rest of my afternoon went.  I think I chatted with Super Sis on the phone.  We had quite the conversation as I gave her the 4-1-1 (hey Megan, look at me typing this correctly – not the 411) on my accident.

I can always count on Super Sis’s heartfelt laughter in exactly the right places.

Thursday morning, I woke up feeling puny again (this seems to be the story of my life lately), so I decided to make perfume using some of my essential oils.  It actually wasn’t that hard, and it was fun too!  I’m going to post details about that tomorrow, so check back then if you’re interested (I’m not selling anything!).

I think it was about this time when my friend, Barb, called.  She wanted to check on how I was doing after reading my blog that morning.  She also wanted to know if I was attending her son and daughter-in-law’s gender reveal.  The e-vite had not found its way to my inbox, perhaps stuck in a spam folder.

With late afternoon plans in mind, I decided I needed to get my walk done, since I’d come to the conclusion that it would probably be best to give myself a week off from any strenuous workouts.

Afterward, it was time for a quick shower, a gentle hair washing – no giggling of the head because oy, but it was hurting, and a short nap.

Then, I dressed up, put on a bit of makeup, and headed out to Barb’s shindig.  She lives less than ten minutes from me, so the drive was short and completely do-able given the ongoing headache I’d been suffering from.

What fun I had!  It was great to get out, see those precious young people who I’ve had the pleasure of watching grow up over the years, and celebrate their surprise and joy of finding out that they’re having a GIRL!  I also got to see a young lady who played soccer with Chicky at Southeastern.  She was at the gender reveal, and she’s expecting her own little one in a few months!

On Friday, I went for my walk again and finished up right as Megan texted me.  We’d made plans to do lunch, but we were able to go an hour earlier when she changed up her schedule.  She picked me up, and we visited one of our favorite Thai restaurants in town.  What a luxury to be able to eat at our own pace!  I adore this sweet friend of mine and love getting to spend time with her.  There’s always a lot of laughter involved.

I sure would appreciate y’all’s prayers.  Although the doctor said that I don’t have a concussion, I’m not 100% convinced.  I think the medicine I was prescribed is taking the edge off of the pain, but there’s constant pressure in the front of my head and some around the back.  I just don’t feel like myself.

I know it will get better, but I am short on patience in that department.  Not that you wouldn’t know that from reading my ankle posts.  Ha!

Thanks, everyone!

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Oh Tuesday, can I please get a do-over?

Y’all, I promise you that I do not wake up in the morning, decide that I need something entertaining for my blog, and then purposely walk into trouble.

Somehow, the Universe just knows that things need to be spiced up and BAM, life happens.

So Tuesday.

I slept in.  Duh.  It’s summer vacation.

I got up, dressed for my workout, and headed out the door.  I needed to pay the water bill, run to the grocery store, and stop by my school to ask an administrator a couple of questions.

My agenda really was simple.

In theory.

I got my first two tasks done without any issues and headed to the school.

Y’all, I should have gone back home.

I chit chatted with a couple of teachers, popped my head in to say hello to an administrator (not the one I had gone to talk to), and then decided to run back in and say one more thing to one of the teachers I’d seen earlier.

I waved goodbye, turned to head out, and found myself stopped in my tracks . . .

By the corner of a cement wall.

Oh yes I did.

I’d forgotten that some of the classrooms have walls that jut out.

I knew I’d hit it pretty hard because I got a headache instantly.

I put my hand up to my forehead, and when I pulled it back, there was blood on my fingers.

Oh word, but this was not looking good.

I quickly walked to the bathroom in the main office, and when I looked into the mirror, I was stunned.

Oh yes I did.

I’d hit myself squarely in the middle of my forehead, along with my nose and mouth. I am fortunate that I didn’t break my nose.

I was in a lot of pain and wasn’t sure if I needed to get it stitched up.

I walked back to the classroom my friend was in and called for her to come out.  She ambled out until she saw my head and said, “OMG.”

It was bad.

We walked to the office together and raided the nurse’s stash of gauze and tape but then began a quick discussion about what I should do . . . stitches or not?  We decided to ask the opinion of the administrator I’d talked to earlier.

I was mortified and started crying again.  It was all just so embarrassing.

Of course, because I’m Auburnchick and have NO luck whatsoever, the administrator had an office full of people.

So I had to let all of them see me with my forehead like that.  She’s got grown children and grandchildren and has been in education awhile.  She’s seen a lot.

She immediately told me that I needed stitches but advised me to go to our wellness clinic (my district offers this to its employees) to let them check.

Megan bandaged me up before I left.

I think if teaching doesn’t work out for her, she should go into the medical profession.  Mad skills, y’all.

Y’all, I had a bag full of groceries in the car, and I still was undecided about my next course of action.  I didn’t want to go to the ER, and I didn’t want to go to my doctor (I’m going to find a new one because she was very rude to me during my last appointment).

I drove to the wellness clinic but called the Mr. on the way.  He hadn’t seen the pictures I’d sent from the school yet, and at first, he thought I was kidding.

He called me back a few minutes later after he got the pictures and was not a happy guy.

He informed me that I am more of a danger to myself than anything else.

Ya think?

He hung up but then called back with the name of a plastic surgeon he wanted me to call.  Then, the Mr. sent me this message . . .

It’s a good thing I wasn’t feeling good because that husband of mine would have gotten sucker punched the next time I saw him.  Turd.

I looked up the number and bless their hearts, they asked if I could be there in thirty minutes.

Living in Podunk City has its benefits.  I was able to drive home, throw my perishables in the refrigerator, apply deodorant (because it’s summer and I might have forgotten earlier), and make it to the doctor’s office.

When I pulled up, I saw the Mr.’s car in the lot.

Bless his heart.

He is a good man.  I had not asked him to meet me there, but he did anyway.

He shook his head when he saw me.

Now, you have to understand something.  At that point, we were a hot mess of a couple.  He was sporting his own bandages.  Last week, he had a bit of skin cancer removed from his face – his first ever – and he’d had stitches and was still covered up.

Bless both of our hearts!

The doctor’s office was hopping.  The nurse told me that I was lucky that they were there.  He’s not always in the office.  He’s a busy doctor in these here parts, you see.

So yeah, I guess I can get lucky every now and then, or rather, I’ll say that God orchestrated that because I don’t believe in luck.

As soon as the doctor saw my head, he ordered the Mr. out of the room, announcing, “We’re doing surgery – right now – and you can’t be in here.”  He was very concerned about infection as well.

Boy, that chair went back fast, and the doctor stuck the numbing needle with the warning that it would hurt.

After living through a triple ankle fracture, it was nothing.

Perspective is everything.

I’d never met this doctor before; I was in for a treat.  He talked to me the entire time.  He cussed a lot.

Ahem.

I kept telling him how stupid I felt.

He said, “Sh$t happens.  You get through it.  The important thing is that you live.”

He must have said, “Sh$t happens” numerous times.  That was going to be the title of this post, but I didn’t want to offend anyone.

How true were his words, though.

I told him I was going to write a blog post about this, and he laughed.

He even counted the stitches for me

Ten, y’all.  Because I’m an overachiever.

Sigh.

Before he put my bandage on, he told me to take a picture for my blog.

Notice all of that swelling?  I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that I’d hit that wall hard.  I am so fortunate that I didn’t break my nose.  It hurt like crap!

I asked if I had a concussion because my neck was hurting, and I was very nauseous.  He said that he didn’t think so since I wasn’t throwing up or having seizures, but he advised me to stay awake for the afternoon.

Good thing he said that because I was ready to go home and take a nap.

I got a flesh-colored bandage that won’t need to be changed because it’s shower-proof.

He prescribed some amped up Motrin and an antibiotic and advised me to apply ice to it when I got home.

He also told me that I couldn’t work out for TWO WHOLE DAYS.  That was the worst part about the entire thing!  I told him that I had rings to close.  He didn’t understand what I was talking about.

Meanwhile, he started chatting with the Mr. and noticed his homemade bandage job, as did the nurse.  Well, they couldn’t have that, and they made him sit in the chair and fixed him up with a new one – one that was waterproof.  Then, they proceeded to talk for a long time about people they both knew.

The doctor liked us.  He told us that we now had VIP cards to his office – if we ever needed anything just to call.

Networking – silver linings, y’all.

Finding joy in the journey continues to be my mantra, it would seem.

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