Saturday evening saw Don and I head out for Big Gay Christmas at the abode of Hilary and Hilarie1. I had an Ace! time dancing about the backyard with Heather, feasting and drinking a good amount of wine. However, by 11.30pm I was sufficiently sober to walk the 25 minutes home with Don and fell into bed rather tired from all the dancing and walking.

I woke at 4am(ish) being squashed by Don and NewKitty (as is their way) and struggled out of bed to visit the bathroom. While there, well, I am not entirely sure what happened. I remember a falling feeling, incredible, unbelievable pain in my face and then Don finding me on the floor – face covered in blood. I think I had been there for a while (I have vague memories of waking up, thinking “ouch” and closing my eyes). When he tried to sit me up blood was pouring from my nostrils and there was a huge gash between my eyes. Poor Don remained calm and mopped me up, but it became pretty quickly evident that I needed a visit to emergency – so off we rushed to RPA.

Being a Saturday night (okay, Sunday morning), I was surprised at the speed I was seen. Although, once I started throwing up blood there was a whole other level of speed. Xray showed I’d broken my nose in 3 places (ouch). Much later CT scan showed a small fracture in my cheekbone had punctured my sinuses – which is what they seemed the most concerned about. I have antibiotics and am not allowed to blow my nose for two weeks.

All up I suppose I was in emergency for about 7-8 hours. It was a HUGE relief to come home and sleep properly – well, as properly as I could manage. Now I am being fussed over by Don and the kitties – and Bessie making me lovely cakes.

I have an appointment at the plastic surgery clinic on Thursday – where they will remove my stitches (from the giant gash between my eyes) and establish whether they will need to reset my nose because much of the swelling will have reduced and they will be able to see the state of it. I suspect it will – it is looking *way* crooked – though admittedly is still ENORMOUS.

I *think* I bashed my face on the toilet, but I can’t be certain. It could have been the sink and stone bench. It’s the not remembering that is the most frustrating – though I don’t suppose it will help anything to know the sequence of it. Thankfully the CT scan showed no stroke or any scary brain things. I thought I tripped, but Don said the bathmats were not all squished as they would have been if I had. Possibly just low blood sugar and fainted? I guess we will never know.

Pretty scary though. I guess I can call myself an old lady now, because I’ve had “a fall”.

On the upside, hey, at least I am not at work.

i made sure to avoid all possibility of penicillin

1Amusingly, we now live less than 10 minutes walk from the pub in that post

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James O'Brien
December 21, 2013 6:09 PM

OMG. So sorry to read about this. Hoping for a speedy recovery.

December 24, 2013 5:06 PM

Oh no! Falls are scary, I’ve always said I’m certain my cause of death will be tripping over a child’s toy or a cat! Much love and I wish you a speedy recovery!