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This happened back in the 1990s, but I just described it in comments to a Making Light post on "Trauma and You," so I figure I might as well put it down here, for the record (not all of you knew me then, and I don't go around saying "let me tell you about my old medical stuff"). It's not especially icky, but it is long, and cut tags seem kinder for anything to do with even minor injury.
As long as we're describing injuries and our own foolishness:
I think I have a slightly deviated septum left over from a broken nose.
Remember where it says "Watch the Gap" on train doors. That's good advice. I didn't take it, that afternoon.
When you get off a commuter train without watching the gap, one possible outcome is that your foot gets caught between train and platform and you fall straight forward.
The Metro-North Railroad has concrete benches on the platforms. I hit my head on one. That I also caught my fall on my outstretched palms may not have made much difference, though a pair of $5 knitted gloves took the impact and I didn't tear the skin.
I immediately, without thought, did the smart thing: I screamed. The train crew came over, helped me up, and asked if they should call an ambulance.
I did the stupid thing and said no. I didn't want to sit in an emergency room. I wanted to go to the meeting I'd been heading for (concom meeting at the convention hotel). Not because I was that devoted to Lunacon, but because going to where I knew people seemed, to my slightly addled brain, like a better idea that turning myself over to strangers. (I also had the possibly-mistaken belief that I'd spend hours and hours in the ER before being helped, as I was conscious and not bleeding.)
My friends got me ice for the most visible problems, and eventually got me home. I called Andy, who hurried home from California (work trip) as fast as he could. The next day, I got myself to my doctor's office, and thence to the nearest hospital to get X-rayed. Yes, I went to bed, in an apartment by myself, with a head injury. Fortunately, while I think I had a concussion, it was quite mild.
I also had dramatic bruises around my eyes, basically the shape of my eyeglass frames, because the impact had pushed them into my face. Modern plastics are wonderful: the glasses didn't break, only scratched. As it happened, I'd let the eyeglass store talk me into buying insurance against stratching. I don't think this was what they had in mind, but they honored it.
So, I called in sick to work for two days. The third day, I went to the eyeglass place, then took a cab to work. Since I'd had to leave my regular glasses at the store for repairs, I walked in wearing my prescription sunglasses. I sat down, said hello to a coworker or two, and started in on my normal morning.
Someone made the inevitable joke about the sunglasses hiding bruises. So I took the glasses off. The person got quiet suddenly, and I explained what had happened.
At this point, I'm left with the slightly out-of-line nose, which I keep thinking I'll get treated sometime. It does interfere slightly with breathing, mostly when I'm congested. Other times, there can be odd noises that other people find more disturbing than I do. A stranger on the train once told me to stop making the sounds, and I told her I'd be happy to, if she'd pay for the surgery.
I was also left with a sensitivity to flashing lights (strobes in particular), which seems to have finally reduced slightly in the last year or two, but is still not good. Music videos, movie trailers, and warning lights on emergency vehicles can all be uncomfortable for me. (I don't resent the EMTs using those lights; I do find myself resenting tow trucks that aren't actually dealing with emergencies.) This is part of why I rarely go to the movies: even movies that don't have that sort of fast-cut effect are preceded by trailers that do.
As long as we're describing injuries and our own foolishness:
I think I have a slightly deviated septum left over from a broken nose.
Remember where it says "Watch the Gap" on train doors. That's good advice. I didn't take it, that afternoon.
When you get off a commuter train without watching the gap, one possible outcome is that your foot gets caught between train and platform and you fall straight forward.
The Metro-North Railroad has concrete benches on the platforms. I hit my head on one. That I also caught my fall on my outstretched palms may not have made much difference, though a pair of $5 knitted gloves took the impact and I didn't tear the skin.
I immediately, without thought, did the smart thing: I screamed. The train crew came over, helped me up, and asked if they should call an ambulance.
I did the stupid thing and said no. I didn't want to sit in an emergency room. I wanted to go to the meeting I'd been heading for (concom meeting at the convention hotel). Not because I was that devoted to Lunacon, but because going to where I knew people seemed, to my slightly addled brain, like a better idea that turning myself over to strangers. (I also had the possibly-mistaken belief that I'd spend hours and hours in the ER before being helped, as I was conscious and not bleeding.)
My friends got me ice for the most visible problems, and eventually got me home. I called Andy, who hurried home from California (work trip) as fast as he could. The next day, I got myself to my doctor's office, and thence to the nearest hospital to get X-rayed. Yes, I went to bed, in an apartment by myself, with a head injury. Fortunately, while I think I had a concussion, it was quite mild.
I also had dramatic bruises around my eyes, basically the shape of my eyeglass frames, because the impact had pushed them into my face. Modern plastics are wonderful: the glasses didn't break, only scratched. As it happened, I'd let the eyeglass store talk me into buying insurance against stratching. I don't think this was what they had in mind, but they honored it.
So, I called in sick to work for two days. The third day, I went to the eyeglass place, then took a cab to work. Since I'd had to leave my regular glasses at the store for repairs, I walked in wearing my prescription sunglasses. I sat down, said hello to a coworker or two, and started in on my normal morning.
Someone made the inevitable joke about the sunglasses hiding bruises. So I took the glasses off. The person got quiet suddenly, and I explained what had happened.
At this point, I'm left with the slightly out-of-line nose, which I keep thinking I'll get treated sometime. It does interfere slightly with breathing, mostly when I'm congested. Other times, there can be odd noises that other people find more disturbing than I do. A stranger on the train once told me to stop making the sounds, and I told her I'd be happy to, if she'd pay for the surgery.
I was also left with a sensitivity to flashing lights (strobes in particular), which seems to have finally reduced slightly in the last year or two, but is still not good. Music videos, movie trailers, and warning lights on emergency vehicles can all be uncomfortable for me. (I don't resent the EMTs using those lights; I do find myself resenting tow trucks that aren't actually dealing with emergencies.) This is part of why I rarely go to the movies: even movies that don't have that sort of fast-cut effect are preceded by trailers that do.
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