My Beautiful Brain, the Emergency Room, and My Husband’s Birthday Party
January 6, 2014
Parts of my holiday season were fun. Not Christmas Day when I visited the hospital emergency room with horrible jolts of pain in my head and got a scan, or the day after at a neurologist’s office, or the day after that getting an MRI, or four days later at my second appointment with the neurologist.
Actually, parts of those bad parts weren’t bad. The idiot in the bed across the way in the ER had 22 beers on Christmas Eve and wondered why he didn’t feel good. I didn’t feel good either. I felt better listening to the idiot. Better and un-stupid. The next day, in the neurologist’s office, after the technician gave me a test requiring me to wear a bathing cap like thing, I was shown the results. “You have a beautiful brain,” said My New Neurologist.
I also have a few medical issues up there. The one connected to the jolts is better. The other is not serious, according to my N.N. Neither kept me from New Year’s parties in the ‘hood, Ping-Pong, Scrabble, and using all 7 letters.
Or anything else.
My family and friends have been loving and caring. During one particular panicky, frightening moment, I reached out to a longtime friend who helped me through panicky, frightening moments –and some small, funny strange ones–in the past. She showed up—is showing up—with this one, too. Big Time.
With age, I’ve learned a bit about reaching out and picking. I picked a gem of a husband.
Which brings me to the fun-nest part of late December: my young gem’s birthday. The chef at our go-to restaurant whom I’ve met and who sends over extra appetizers, desserts and champagne whenever we are there, came out to meet the birthday boy the night I took him to dinner. On his birthday, our kids and grandson gathered at our apartment for brunch. We range in age from 15 months to ‘never mind.’ From my toast to Jonathan through 6 adults all doing “so big” in unison with the baby, we shared lots of laughs and lox and love. What joy! What a gift! To paraphrase Cole Porter, “What a swell party it was!”
As I related My Brain Ordeal events to my sister, she responded exactly how the doctor would have ordered. In a reassuring, big sister way. Before we hung up, she said, “You’re in good hands at home. Let those arms embrace you. Go get some hugs. You’ll feel good.”