So I got a call at work this evening, from Jennie. She asked me if she had been to the store today.
This is an odd kind of question, but I happened to know that the answer was yes. She had called me before she went to the store, to talk about what she needed to get; and she had called me after she got home from the store, to let me know she’d spent extra money to buy a snow shovel. (There’s a winter storm advisory tonight; last I heard they were predicting four to six inches of snow by morning.)
Well, it turned out she had then gone out to use the snow shovel, and had slipped on the ice and hit her head.
And she couldn’t remember large chunks of the afternoon. She remembered bits and pieces from being at the store, but she did not remember going to the store, nor coming back. Nor could she remember why she was out in the driveway, in the snow, with a shovel. That one wouldn’t have been too hard to puzzle out, but if you had a blank spot in your memory right there, it would have to be disorienting.
Not too surprisingly, right after I got off the phone with her, I came straight home.
Aside from those gaps in her memory from this afternoon, she’s doing fine so far. Bits and pieces continue to come back, but I won’t be surprised if some gaps remain; I still don’t remember what happened just before I got my concussion, and that was back in third grade. She’s not having any problems remembering other details like her name or her address; no dizziness, no spots in front of her eyes, no nausea, no unusual drowsiness. She’s been in touch with a friend who’s just finishing medical school, and we’ll keep a close eye on things (which is about all the hospital would do if we took her to the emergency room). So, for now, all seems reasonably well.
But she’s not allowed to shovel the driveway anymore.
And the Lord did speak unto them, saying, “And do not shovel thy driveways; and neither shovel thy walks. For it is blasphemy to take away that which the Lord God hath put there. What the Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away, in the fullness of time. Amen.”
Alas, I don’t think our personal liability policy is quite that religious. More’s the pity. So I spent a couple of hours shoveling this evening, just so it would be easier to shovel again in the morning. Blecch.
I got done and Jennie offered me some hot chocolate, and I said, “No, thanks. I’ll take Gatorade.”
We started a list, over the weekend, of stuff we need to do (clean the living room, set up the bookshelves) and stuff we need to buy (new shelves for the linen closet, a snowblower). The list is four pages so far, two columns per page. None of the items have priorities yet. But I think that some of those nonexistent priorities are slowly becoming higher than others.
Okay, time for bed. Set the alarm clock for three hours so I can ask Jennie stupid questions. And find the heating pad for my aching back. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.