Falling Over
I've had an interesting evening. Just after departing Paddington Station, for the final hour of my journey home from the north of England, I was about to text my other half and tell her where I was when my phone rang in my hand.“Hello?“I could here crying on the other end.“Hello? What's up?”“I don't know”“What do you mean?”“I've fallen over and hit my head, and hurt my hands. I saw a flash of light when my head hit the wall”I spent the rest of the journey home worrying. A few minutes after the phone call I got a textthat my other half was on her way to the local hospitalthe dance teacher had taken her, and the dance teacher's daughter was looking after the children.
I got home, dumped my bags, let the dance teacher's daughter go, and then set about figuring out what to do next.
I called a friendwho was just about to go to bedand she raced over to look after the kids while her husband dropped me at the local hospital.
Half an hour later we get to see the duty nurse, who performed all sorts of testschecking eyes, coordination, reactions, muscle strengthyou name itand prodded and poked her hands to make sure nothing was broken.
Half an hour after that (after administering a powerful pain killer), we were allowed to go home.
I'm going to be working from home tomorrow. She's going to be off work tomorrow. She is banned from watching television, reading books, or doing anything stressful, or that requires focus. Doctor's orders.