And The Hits Just Keep on Comin'
I am writing this blog for or rather dedicating it really, to my sister, Ann, as she will find particular enjoyment out of it. You see, she is particularly tickled by the talent that oozes out of my pores on a daily basis, and tickled she was the other day when, while out on a shopping trip, I visited the ladies room and promptly smacked my forehead into a coat hook in the ladies' stall.
It HURT! I mean, it really hurt! I am super surprised that I didn't actually impale my head on it -- I am exceedingly thankful for that ...what a crazy 911 call that would have been!
I think I might have even said a few choice words ... words that would have made my grandmother blush and my mother cringe. Good thing I was in there by myself.
Of course, true to any injury to the head, it swelled up almost immediately, leaving an awful-looking "goose egg." Ann loved the swelling goose egg almost as much as she loved the story behind it. In fact, she immediately went to Facebook, like any caring, loving sister would, and announced my mishap in the following way:
"Seesta got a "concussion" upon ramming her head into a coat hook in the potty. There's a nice goose egg rising off her forehead. I'm hoping for a beautiful shade of blue to form..."
She's sweet like that.
Today, I had a doctor's appointment, and while we were discussing my thyroid (or lack thereof) and other things, his face clouded over.
"Ummmm, is that a bruise I see on your forehead? How did you get that?"
I started laughing as I tried to explain how I smacked my head on the coat hook.
He immediately sighed in relief. "Well, as long as you were NOT being smacked around by anyone, that is all I am concerned with."
So there you have it, Ann! My physician, Dr. Gilbert, saw my sickly green bruise and immediately thought I was a victim of domestic violence. That has to be better than the lovely blue shade you were hoping for, right?
It HURT! I mean, it really hurt! I am super surprised that I didn't actually impale my head on it -- I am exceedingly thankful for that ...what a crazy 911 call that would have been!
I think I might have even said a few choice words ... words that would have made my grandmother blush and my mother cringe. Good thing I was in there by myself.
Of course, true to any injury to the head, it swelled up almost immediately, leaving an awful-looking "goose egg." Ann loved the swelling goose egg almost as much as she loved the story behind it. In fact, she immediately went to Facebook, like any caring, loving sister would, and announced my mishap in the following way:
"Seesta got a "concussion" upon ramming her head into a coat hook in the potty. There's a nice goose egg rising off her forehead. I'm hoping for a beautiful shade of blue to form..."
She's sweet like that.
Today, I had a doctor's appointment, and while we were discussing my thyroid (or lack thereof) and other things, his face clouded over.
"Ummmm, is that a bruise I see on your forehead? How did you get that?"
I started laughing as I tried to explain how I smacked my head on the coat hook.
He immediately sighed in relief. "Well, as long as you were NOT being smacked around by anyone, that is all I am concerned with."
So there you have it, Ann! My physician, Dr. Gilbert, saw my sickly green bruise and immediately thought I was a victim of domestic violence. That has to be better than the lovely blue shade you were hoping for, right?
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