Today marks one week since I suffered a fall,  resulting in the biggest black eye one can imagine. Click here for the backstory. Anyway, after a week,  things were looking VERY bad for my face. The actual point of impact, where my head hit the corner of the cornet verandah, was still as large as an emu egg and the bruising around my eye was starting to resemble a rainbow. Oh the pretty colours!

So yesterday I took myself of to my GP, the Adorable Dr Eve, who ordered me to go and have an x-ray and an ultrasound.

So off I went,  big sunglasses on. I had not had an ultrasound since my left boob was pummelled by a cute doctor who was investigating another lump,  which turned out to be a cyst.

I kept making jokes to the ultrasound lady as she checked over Lumpy, things like “Can you see the heartbeat?” all the while greeted with not so much as a semi-smile. I realised I was being a dick so I shut up.  She took the report off to another doctor, who them came in an told me I needed a Cat Scan.

Fuck. A. Duck! Shit just got real.

I went back into the waiting room to do some waiting.  Against all my will, I googled Cat Scan on my phone,  did a little reading and then convinced myself I was going to die. Something was really wrong with me.  I could tell it on the Doctors face.  I had spent the last week la-laing around town,  stuffing my cake hole with Easter Eggs when I should have been crossing things off my bucket list.

Another doctor called out my name. I lay on a bed with my eyes tightly shut trying to fend off a medium sized panic attack while the scan took place. By the way,  it had nothing to do with felines.

Then on to some x-rays,  where Christine the X-rayer put me at ease. A bit.

Back to the waiting room.  Christine came out after a few minutes and handed me a large package of images to take back to Dr Eve. I thanked her and left the building without paying.

I got a phone call. They were very nice and I apologised for stealing services before paying over the phone. I just got all flustered like.

I collected the Woogettes from Tennis Camp.  They were keen to see the x-rays of my skull. Jack asked “What did they find Mummy?” and I told him they found no evidence of a brain.

A few minutes later Jack asked “What is 14 plus 14?” I told him the answer and he was relieved, pointing out to me that I did indeed have a brain. Cute.

Back to Dr Eve who looked over the X-rays very carefully.  She concluded that I have something called an Organised Haematoma, which is a collection of coagulated blood and I should stop icing it and start using a heat pack instead. I was just pleased that there was something organised about myself, even if it was a large pooling of blood. No breaks, no fractures, no problems.

My head gets the Thumbs Up from Dr Eve!

She phoned me last night at about 6.30pm to let me know that all test showed that my noggin was rocking and I went to bed with a heat pack and slept like I had been knocked unconscious, which indeed a week before I had been. Today Lumpy is subsiding and the bruising is fading. And I feel better.

What is the biggest injury you have sustained?
Is your GP awesome?