The Busting of A Brain
When I'm asked about the details of my car accident by a casual acquaintance, I go for flippant and fast: "Everyone knows I'm a shitty driver. It wasn't my fault. But I had it coming." No one has inquired beyond that yet.
If I know someone a bit better, I'll give some detail. It was Thursday, August, 30, 2018. It was my kid's first day back at school, and I honestly could not have been more excited by what I thought was the first day of having life back. Except that day I would be involved in a high-impact auto accident. I closed my eyes the moment before the impact and opened them to a very puzzling scene. I suppose the most important was that I was alive. The second was that that one second I'd closed my eyes was more probably at least five minutes. And since opening my eyes, it's been a rotating schedule of medical appointments.
If you happen to be one of my few best friends, you will have had the unabridged version that makes Victor Hugo seem laconic. Additionally, there might be conspiracy theories where time and space have no bearing, the ghostly tale of a cursed "voodoo" ring, the lineage of my paternal grandmother's line starting from their arrival to America, a mapped-out scene of the accident with full narration on Snapchat. The best part? I'll rarely remember this what I call the bonus material. This is brighter side to a head injury.
Did I mention I have a head injury? Of course I didn't. If I was able to work that into this entry right off the bat, I wouldn't have started a blog called Busted Brain. Today is the two-week anniversary of that car accident. It's quite by chance that I've chosen this date as my starting point. But guess what? Since I have a brain injury, I get to pick my own starting point.
If I know someone a bit better, I'll give some detail. It was Thursday, August, 30, 2018. It was my kid's first day back at school, and I honestly could not have been more excited by what I thought was the first day of having life back. Except that day I would be involved in a high-impact auto accident. I closed my eyes the moment before the impact and opened them to a very puzzling scene. I suppose the most important was that I was alive. The second was that that one second I'd closed my eyes was more probably at least five minutes. And since opening my eyes, it's been a rotating schedule of medical appointments.
If you happen to be one of my few best friends, you will have had the unabridged version that makes Victor Hugo seem laconic. Additionally, there might be conspiracy theories where time and space have no bearing, the ghostly tale of a cursed "voodoo" ring, the lineage of my paternal grandmother's line starting from their arrival to America, a mapped-out scene of the accident with full narration on Snapchat. The best part? I'll rarely remember this what I call the bonus material. This is brighter side to a head injury.
Did I mention I have a head injury? Of course I didn't. If I was able to work that into this entry right off the bat, I wouldn't have started a blog called Busted Brain. Today is the two-week anniversary of that car accident. It's quite by chance that I've chosen this date as my starting point. But guess what? Since I have a brain injury, I get to pick my own starting point.
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