My childhood castle, Åstrup Gods.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Concussion pics 3
My childhood castle, Åstrup Gods.
Concussion pics 2
Concussion pics 1
As mentioned, I spent my isolation time touring my city taking photos. Here's a selection of the favourites:
Marmorkirken (Marble Church) that I visited for the first time even if I've been working with first hand view to it's dome for 5 years.
Foot prints in the snow.
A sunny winter spot.
Impressions of a winter day.
Beautiful lights on a dim day.
No hands no cookies.
Two months of boredom
Early November, I went to Sweden on a writer's refuge as I am lucky enough to borrow Gitte and Jørn's lovely cottage at the verge of a gigantic forrest. Solitude and no distractions makes it the perfect setting for my writing.
Yet again, it was lovely being there. I was very productive and very much inside my very own writing bubble, when I made the stupidest maneouvre of the year. I fell. Or rather slipped. On a wet board while talking a walk. Landed on my ass and got a whip lash that provoked concussionlike symptoms. Which means the exact same symptoms as for a concussion except for passing out, vomiting or luckily risking brain damage. The rest was the real deal, though, and it took me a couple of hours to realise as I hadn't hurt my head, and honestly was more worried about my wrist that I'd landed on.
But then I'd noticed. I was writing and got dizzier and dizzier, and as quite a few of my friends have been as unfortunate with concussions, I soon got the hint, turned off the laptop and laid down on the couch - eyes shut, podcast on. This was the beginning of many days podcast listening and closed eyes. To sum it up really fast: Concussions or fake concussions for that matter are endlessly boring. Not least during the two days of complete isolation without sounds or lights for 20 hours at a row. I was ready to submit myself on day 2.
The doctors were completely calm and told me to take it easy for a couple of days and I'd be fine in a week or so. They also said Barcelona would be the perfect brake for me at the end of the fake concussion. It was, I absolutely enjoyed Barcelona end-November and hardly had any symptoms. Anyways, none I was paying any attention to till it was too late (as you'd say to sound a bit more dramatic). I'll tell more about Barcelona some other time.
When I got back, I thought everything would be fine and went to work after 2 weeks of nurturing. And for pre-christmas celebration in the evening at Wallmann's Salons. I promise, it's my first and last visit there. The show, the sounds, the lights, people talking, laughing, partying everywhere were way more than my brain could take. My alcohol intake weren't more than in Barcelona, but it probably didn't help. I woke up next morning with the worst hangover ever! A hangover that turned out to be a relapse of a false concussion and forced me to stay in bed for the next four days. I tried going to work Monday morning, but had to leave after 10 minutes feeling worse than I did after my original fall.
So I started over. Or a bit more than over. This time with the assistance of a cranio-sacral therapist, who sent warm energies through my body, straigtened out muscles and nerves and gave me the first logic explanation to my symptoms, as I, according to the doctors, really didn't have a concussion. The fee, I paid Jens Dybdal for my treatment were more than reasonable for regaining faith in recovering. And for getting instant relief at every treatment.
The cure for concussion and fake concussion is identical. Complete rest, no TV, laptop, no reading nor excercise and not too many people at the same time. And absolutely no writing! As said, exceptionally boring. To top it up - you have to be completely relaxed and un-stressed if you want to recover. I was indeed challenged not to give in to a depression.
The fact that my fake concussion had affected my short term memory, meant that I had to make lists of everything. A list of what to buy in which shops and what order. A list of what to wear and what to bring, whenever leaving home, so I'd remember hat, gloves and wallet. A list of what to remember asking or saying when I was talking to anybody. And finally a list of my plans. Not least the plans I needed to cancel. You get pretty good at cancelling plans with a fake concussion. And good at living with the fact that one plan too many means not getting out of bed the next day. Even if that plan were too many because it involved three people instead of two. Or a restaurant with other people talking.
Fortunately after a week of isolation, I could start goiing on walks with my camera. Cleaning was also one of the things I could do rather soon, which has had a positive effect on the cleanliness at home. But it was the camera that saved me. I do love my camera - not any less now. Which meant that it felt meaningful to go out clicking. And that I've walked the streets of my city, got to know my camera better and gave myself the challenge of taking at least one good shot every day.
Crossing my fingers, it finally seems as if it's over. I can watch TV. Use my iPad, work at my laptop or drive a car for an hour and only get slightly dizzy. And today, I've been at a café with a cup of coffee - writing!! Hooray!! Again only slightly dizzy after writing this piece. Still need to take everything very slowly. But nonetheless - I'm writing! And bubbly thrilled of regaining that ability! And the company of other people.
Yet again, it was lovely being there. I was very productive and very much inside my very own writing bubble, when I made the stupidest maneouvre of the year. I fell. Or rather slipped. On a wet board while talking a walk. Landed on my ass and got a whip lash that provoked concussionlike symptoms. Which means the exact same symptoms as for a concussion except for passing out, vomiting or luckily risking brain damage. The rest was the real deal, though, and it took me a couple of hours to realise as I hadn't hurt my head, and honestly was more worried about my wrist that I'd landed on.
But then I'd noticed. I was writing and got dizzier and dizzier, and as quite a few of my friends have been as unfortunate with concussions, I soon got the hint, turned off the laptop and laid down on the couch - eyes shut, podcast on. This was the beginning of many days podcast listening and closed eyes. To sum it up really fast: Concussions or fake concussions for that matter are endlessly boring. Not least during the two days of complete isolation without sounds or lights for 20 hours at a row. I was ready to submit myself on day 2.
The doctors were completely calm and told me to take it easy for a couple of days and I'd be fine in a week or so. They also said Barcelona would be the perfect brake for me at the end of the fake concussion. It was, I absolutely enjoyed Barcelona end-November and hardly had any symptoms. Anyways, none I was paying any attention to till it was too late (as you'd say to sound a bit more dramatic). I'll tell more about Barcelona some other time.
When I got back, I thought everything would be fine and went to work after 2 weeks of nurturing. And for pre-christmas celebration in the evening at Wallmann's Salons. I promise, it's my first and last visit there. The show, the sounds, the lights, people talking, laughing, partying everywhere were way more than my brain could take. My alcohol intake weren't more than in Barcelona, but it probably didn't help. I woke up next morning with the worst hangover ever! A hangover that turned out to be a relapse of a false concussion and forced me to stay in bed for the next four days. I tried going to work Monday morning, but had to leave after 10 minutes feeling worse than I did after my original fall.
So I started over. Or a bit more than over. This time with the assistance of a cranio-sacral therapist, who sent warm energies through my body, straigtened out muscles and nerves and gave me the first logic explanation to my symptoms, as I, according to the doctors, really didn't have a concussion. The fee, I paid Jens Dybdal for my treatment were more than reasonable for regaining faith in recovering. And for getting instant relief at every treatment.
The cure for concussion and fake concussion is identical. Complete rest, no TV, laptop, no reading nor excercise and not too many people at the same time. And absolutely no writing! As said, exceptionally boring. To top it up - you have to be completely relaxed and un-stressed if you want to recover. I was indeed challenged not to give in to a depression.
The fact that my fake concussion had affected my short term memory, meant that I had to make lists of everything. A list of what to buy in which shops and what order. A list of what to wear and what to bring, whenever leaving home, so I'd remember hat, gloves and wallet. A list of what to remember asking or saying when I was talking to anybody. And finally a list of my plans. Not least the plans I needed to cancel. You get pretty good at cancelling plans with a fake concussion. And good at living with the fact that one plan too many means not getting out of bed the next day. Even if that plan were too many because it involved three people instead of two. Or a restaurant with other people talking.
Fortunately after a week of isolation, I could start goiing on walks with my camera. Cleaning was also one of the things I could do rather soon, which has had a positive effect on the cleanliness at home. But it was the camera that saved me. I do love my camera - not any less now. Which meant that it felt meaningful to go out clicking. And that I've walked the streets of my city, got to know my camera better and gave myself the challenge of taking at least one good shot every day.
Crossing my fingers, it finally seems as if it's over. I can watch TV. Use my iPad, work at my laptop or drive a car for an hour and only get slightly dizzy. And today, I've been at a café with a cup of coffee - writing!! Hooray!! Again only slightly dizzy after writing this piece. Still need to take everything very slowly. But nonetheless - I'm writing! And bubbly thrilled of regaining that ability! And the company of other people.
Location:A very dark room
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