Generally Hospitalized

Being a teenager is all about expecting the unexpected. Teenagedom means that anything and everything can happen to you. You're not immune, you're not superman (One Direction might lead you to believe otherwise), and you're just as vulnerable as anyone else. It's a scary realization to come to but it's the truth. It's always crazy to think about anything going wrong, but sometimes it does. The thing is, you're a teenager and you're capable of doing amazing things like making the best out of any situation, and don't ever forget it. While we're at it, let's just get me generally hospitalized.

You're probably wondering what's up with this sort of downer of a blog post, well the truth is I might be a huge mess. I had a little accident and the repercussions were bigger than what I had originally expected. Here's the story. Remember my birthday last week (BTW's I'll blog about the day of later this week) - well it was going great. I was having an amazing time having that epic water balloon fight when my sister, Bianca, and her best friend, Bailey came outside and told me to meet them in the garage for a surprise. I go over there and they're carrying a full sized balloon full of water and ready to get me good. They toss it and bounces off me and into my arms. So I run towards them and throw the balloon as they enter the house. It doesn't even make it halfway there before exploding in midair. I'm talking like a major splat like on those Big Brother Head of Household challenges or and episode of Bucket and Skinner's Epic Adventures. Water just everywhere, all over the freezer, the lawn mower-tractor thingy, the walls and stairs. All of a sudden I'm slipping. It was a like a freaking cartoon or playback-able episode of AFV with Bob Saget Tom Bergeron. I slam, hard, on the concrete ground and my back feels like it's just been hit by a truck (it'd be a Mercedes-Benz if I had my way). Split seconds later my head smacks against the ground and it's just not okay. I spring back up and I'm fine and I tell the girls not to tell our mother because she'd be super angry that we wet the garage. You know I screamed when I was falling like none other, and my friends came to see what happened. I was totally fine. The next day I started getting pounding headaches originating from where my head connected with the concrete to the temples on my forehead. At first I just thought it was a morning thing where I was hungry since I'd be waking up in the afternoon (literally after noon) but they started lasting longer and longer, in excess of up to two hours. It's been like five days now and they were getting worse. So my sister finally convinced me to tell our dad what was going on. Truthfully I don't like to bother my dad with my problems, he's busy as hell and has other patients to see and I'm a doctor's kid which pretty much means I'm a little junior physician or something like that. So self diagnosis might by my secret speciality but this had gone too far. I told doctor dad and he told me I'd be fine so I went upstairs to take a shower. Little did I know I was well on my way for a major scare and to be generally hospitalized.

The plot thickens ... I was taking a shower, scrubbing away and trying to get myself properly clean. I brace myself against the tiles when I cleaning the heels of my feet and after I stand back up erect (he, he, erect - immature like my___ *if you don't get it, you not be a teenager) I can't see. I felt like freaking Jenna on Pretty Little Liars and the famous Lucy Hale as "Aria" quote "Bitch can see!) - that wasn't me. You know when all the static comes in on an old TV, the black and white haze, that's what I was seeing. I got dizzy and felt vertigo. I washed on the soap the best I could and scrambled out of the tub. I just wanted to sit down on the side of the tub but even though it was right there I couldn't muster the energy to grab it. I put on a towel and tried to sit on the ground and like collapsed. I sat there on the ground, helpless and a dripping wet mess (if I wasn't like having a crisis this would have been one of my sexiest moments, ladies to date). I finally got up and went to my room where Bianca was just browsing twitter and I told her, through tears and choked up voice what was going on. I felt nauseous, like I could projectile vomit (again) at any moment. She wiped my back for me and layed out another tie for me to lie down on. The fuzziness subsided and I was okay enough to get dressed before napping it up. When my parents came from going out, I broke the news to them and I realized it was serious. I'm thinking I'm concussed - but it's off to the doctor (doctor's can't treat their families) in the morning for a CT scan. Mark my words if I get pricked my any needles I will cause a scene - hell to the no. I guess I won't have a choice, I was about to be generally hospitalized.

Now for the epic conclusion of this tragic story (why don't I have my own TV show, hell I could star in a soap opera). I went to the doctor's office this afternoon. I give the receptionist my proof of insurance and my driver's license and pay the $35.00 co-pay (why yes, my insurance is the bomb kiddies). I'm browsing twitter in the waiting room while my mom reads a magazine and dozes off. I get my weighed and have my height measured (5' 10.25" ladies - tall, dark and handsome - come and get it). Into the private room where I describe my symptoms to the nurse who types away. My temperature reads 98.3 (a little on the cold side - but that's just because I'm not having any of it and feeling bitter and slightly cold). It's a new wand thingy that they just roll over your forehead - most deff going to get pops to bring me one. My blood pressure is taken and homegirl for sure pumped it up too much for no reason. I was thinking listen here diva, you're no pop star so don't try and pop my veins. Eventually my mom figures out I've entered the examination room and comes to find me. The doctor comes in and just starts pressing and prodding, but he's really nice and you don't even notice you're being examined. Bright lights in the eyes, saying aaaahh like Trey Songz, and whipping my head back and forth like Willow Smith. I'm diagnosed with my first ever concussion. It's a ridiculous story to even explain, a water balloon incident gone wrong on my 19th birthday - really, this would happen to me and me only. I'm scheduled for a CAT scan in the morning and I'm done. So, that's pretty much - I'm sure I'll be fine. After going grocery shopping, BTW since when does my run of the mill grocer now have good looking employees. The girl restocking the salads could have definitely gotten it, yes please. She can toss my salad anytime. I'd like to put some dressing on that. We can make our croutons homemade (okay enough with the food ridden innuendos). So that's the story, truthfully I was kind of excited when this happened (after the initial panic wore off of no longer being perfect) that I would have something interesting to blog about. You're welcome, thanks for coming along with me on the journey to be generally hospitalized.

Being a teenager is all about taking what comes to you and making the best out of any situation. Just because you've got something medically wrong with you doesn't mean you're at a disadvantage. When you overcome your obstacles it proves just how much stronger you are. You might even surprise yourself. A disability doesn't have to knock you down, it can bring you you up and put you ahead of the competition. Don't be so quick to judge anyone who's been generally hospitalized.

My blog post question for the day is ... have you ever been hospitalized and for what? Well nope not really, I once got stitches in the back of my head in third grade after a monkey bar incident with a racist prepubescent scum of the Earth hoodrat doofus.

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