Oh for pity's sake, what now?

Sunday I blogged about my numerous successes with derby and running, and Sunday evening I went to training on the bike. So far so normal, until I was blocked out whilst jamming during a drill. The blocker got me off the track, then went down. Her leg kicked out and swept me off my feet, and unfortunately my head took the hit. Hard. The crack as helmet hit floor at speed echoed round the rink and felt like the kickdrum from hell had been beaten inside my skull.

Everything went blurry. For a while.I lay there, doing that bizarre hissing breathing that seems to be the noise I make when in pain (happens enough these days that I know this), trying to get my eyes to point the right way and hoping to all things that I hadn't cracked my skull the way it felt I had.

The pain eventually settled down to a background pain with help of an ice pack and some aroha from the other downed skaters around the rink. I felt well enough to ride home, and well enough to ride to work.

Then it all went sideways.

I couldn't focus, the lights hurt my eyes. My contact lenses dug like nails into my corneas. I was slurring, and my train of thought was not so much a train as a broken boxcar. I went to the nurse's office and was swiftly dispatched to the nearest accident and medical, and then by ambulance to the hospital. I was kept in for observation for six hours, which I spent mostly sleeping, having blood taken for some reason, telling the same story to about ten different doctors, nurses, students and (probably) the bedside table. I was diagnosed with delayed concussion, a result of the fall and probably the car accident, and whiplash. They were concerned that I might have cracked a vertebrae in my neck at one point, but thankfully ruled it out before we got to the X-ray and hard brace stage.

I'm still bloody sore (painkillers, and a soft brace to wear when the pain gets REALLY sore to take the weight off for short periods) and today at work was spent in a bit of a daze. No derby for three weeks as another head injury could be very bad, and as yet I don't know how long I have to wait until I can get back running again. Hopefully SOON (no exercise is making me twitchy. At least, I hope it's no exercise that's causing that)

What's causing me to kick the furniture (gently) is the disappointment of yet another setback. I take up running, I get on travel team, and now I'm laid up with yet another injury. It's like trying to save money and every time a gain is made, a bill or an unexpected expense comes along and the savings get a little bit smaller. I'm in the best shape of my life, but I'd be in better shape if I wasn't so injury-prone. Since my shoulder/groin double-whammy I'd been to a whole TWO trainings before Sunday's slamfest, and I can't help but feel a little frustrated.

However, it could be a lot worse and I know that. It's only three weeks of no derby, I should be back running in a few days (hopefully), I'm not in a cast or on fire or flat broke, but still. It'd be brilliant if I could get a slight lead and maintain if for longer than half an hour...

So, then it all went nips-up

FML. I try and be as positive as I can because negative stuff gets you nowhere, but I'm finding it really, really hard to be all smiles and cheer this week.

It was scrimmage on Monday night and we were playing in our teams for the grad bout on Saturday. It was interesting playing with new people and working to new tactics but I was really enjoying it. Everything was great, right up until the moment when, in the pack, a teammate tripped and accidentally took me down with her. I landed hard on my left arm, got back up and kept skating. It wasn't until after the jam that I was able to take stock and figure out that my wrist hurt. A LOT. I iced it, it hurt more. I played a few more jams (like an idiot), fell again, it hurt more. More ice, a trip to our president/nurse Sister Wreck'd Me (bitchin' name I've always thought) and she prescribed no more skating, strapping it up and going to the doc's for an X-ray.

I strapped it up and slept on it (not a good night, that), went to work the next day, then the local Medical centre. And got diagnosed with a fractured scaphoid bone. The scaphoid is one of the wee bones at the base of the hand, and it is a right bugger to heal. Apparently, failure to treat it properly can result in bone necrosis (nice) and major surgery. I asked about the chances of playing in the bout this Saturday and, well, did not get the response I'd hoped for. I've also sprained my left shoulder in the fall and that will require physio, though my doctor isn't sure how well that can work in conjunction with the fracture. I'm seeing a specialist next week, but could be in a cast for up to SIX GODDAMN WEEKS. So no bout, no training, and possibly missing the next bout too. Disappointed does not begin to cover it.

What's worse, school's break up next week for Easter and all my plans for the holidays just went up in smoke. Motorbike ride round northland? Gone. Surfing? Nuh-uh. Climbing? Nope. Going for long, leisurely gym sessions every day? Not bloody likely. I'm showering wearing a placcy bag so even going to the gym in the mornings has become a logistical nightmare. It's my birthday next week and I'd planned to go and shoot some pool with the peeps. I can't even play bloody pool now!

I've been so excited about these holidays. This term has been nothing short of nightmareish and I was looking forward to a break just for me, where I could do lots of fun stuff that I wanted to do. Now it's all gone.

I'll be honest, I've found it hard to keep on with wearing the Big Girl Panties on this one. I have cried out of sheer frustration (not to mention it's pretty bloody sore). I feel really low about it all, I really needed something to go my way for a change and now this.

Argh.

Forgive me derby, for I have sinned...

This has not been a good week. After last week's fun and games, Thursday night saw me grimace with the not-fun kind of pain for a change. Embarrassingly, the pain came from warm-up. Doing a four-point fall. In the first fifteen minutes. Talk about denied! Spent the rest of the session sitting on the side, watching the training and feeling a bit wistful.

So, what's the smart thing to do? Go to Monday session of course! Warm-up, fine. Drills, fine. Scrimmage? Fine. Scrimmage as jammer? Woopsadoodle. Took a couple of big, awkward falls, and felt the pain. Gritted teeth, kept skating, scored 4 points (yay me!), had a break aaaand....kept skating. Blocker 2. Went down again, and that was me limping round the rink till four whistles went. Decided at that point to actually listen to my body's frantic semaphoring that something was amiss and STOP BLOODY SKATING. This is easier said than done. When the blood is up and the jams are fun, it's really, really hard not to just grin, bear it and keep going.

I was going to take the March piccies tonight, but today's been pretty hard-going in a few ways and to be brutally honest I just don't feel like it tonight. Soon, soooooon....