sitting in Pret in Gatwick airport trying to take in the dramas (good & bad.) of the past few days. As ya do.
It started out well; Friday night we had people over for drinks then went for our first ‘housemates night out’ on Cowley road. Fun times all round. Especially teaching Tim how to dab (we.are.cooooool.)
On Saturday Jordan & I headed to South Park in Oxford for the first day of Common People festival – will fo sho do a post about that separately cos I have some lush candid pics of me looking longingly into a festival field that are too edgy not to share…
We met up with a few St Albans people, Jordan’s uni friends and bumped into a whole heap of Oxfam people. Good times good times. Being the sensible adults that we’re pretending to be, we went home instead of out. Ready for round 2 on Sunday. Jordan & Maz (just referred to myself in the 3rd person lol who am I?) were campaigning for Oxfam’s new Stand As One petition so had a lotta fun taking pics of festival goers & generally bumblin’ around in the sunshine. We finished our shift and went to enjoy the evening’s music at 5:30ish and all was dandy until 11ish. I’d been loving life in the mosh pit at the dance stage but decided to shimmy out of because, you know, there’s only so much you can be thrown and whacked around.
As I carried on dancing I saw someone’s head (I think. could’ve been an elbow.) in the corner of my eye. It whaaaaaacked into my forehead and made the loudest crack/bang noise I’d heard (in terms of things whacking into my head). It knocked me sideways and I was in a very panicked sense of shock. I beelined my way out of the crowd, straight onto the grass and burst into tears. Tears were streaming, almost flooded the place. Finally Jordan was like ‘Medical tent?’ – errrr yas good shout b. They checked me over, all ok apart from dizziness. Was ready to get going home when I just started vomiting. WHICH IS ALWAYS FUN. The lady keeping an eye on me was kinda worried so told me to go to A&E which I knew would happen because little old me is a first aid starrrr.
Obviously the festival had to end at the same time so cue mega rush of people all wanting taxis at the same time. No luck for us getting one because, life aint always kind eh. We ended up walking there – it was as fun as you can imagine.
I know how long it takes to be seen at A&E so mentally prepared my throbbing head for a long old wait. I reckon we got there at 11:30, we were done by 3:45am. Yeah. It was a long night in hospital. I knew I was fine but really didn’t want to risk some weird bleeding to the brain or something especially when I was off to Paris in the morning – great timing there head butter.
The doctors and nurses were mega babes and reassured me all was well but said if I were to vomit again in the next few days then to defo go back. We taxied home, had a few hours sleep, woke up early so I could pack for Paris.
Left Oxford at 8am, reluctantly drove back to Welwyn Garden with Calvin Harris as our musical cheerleader, dropped J home and bombarded my parents with the concussion story. They sympathetically told me to hurry up and get ready because we had a hour until we had to leave for Kings Cross so I could get the ONE coach to France. 15 mins before we were due to leave I was sick. And again. And again a few more times. TMI?
‘We have to take you back to the hospital’ Dad told me. I knew I had to go. So there was another reluctant trip, this time to the Lister hospital, whilst I messaged our team leader Billy to tell them not to wait for me at the station 😦 No Paris for me. At least not right now anyway.
Luckily the wait wasn’t as bad at the Lister. I was passed around doctors and nurses who gleefully flashed lights in my mouths, ears and eyes and asked me to ‘follow my finger’ a few more times. It was determined it wouldn’t be safe to send me home without a brain scan so I was carted off to a big alien abduction looking machine to check out what was gwarnin’ in my head. It wasn’t as weird as I thought it’d be, just lots of sliding in and out of this huge white machine. My results came back as all fine which was a relief. The doctor was happy to let me go home & to Paris. I was ordered to stay away from screens; TV, phones, laptops (not that easy for work or writing this buuuut a little can’t hurt.) and that I’d definitely feel a bit crap for a few days because my brain was bruised.
Shirley and I went home, booked a flight for this evening so I could go to Paris and decided it was best I went for a nap. I woke up from said nap feeling like death had hit me sideways. Dizzy, nauseous, headache but luckily it wore off. Dad drove us to Gatwick and i said bye to ma & pa. Since starting to write this I’ve moved from Pret to the boarding lounge to the plane. And lack of Wifi (omg so excited to get to France and hear people pronounce it ‘weeefeee’) means this’ll probs go up when I reach the hostel.
So yeah, this has been my concussion story. Pretty moving eeeeeeeh?
Will avoid mosh pits for at least a week and hopefully won’t have to repeat this drama.
Au revoir losers