My in real life friends have already heard this story because, dang- it's too funny to keep to myself. Since I'm now caught up with most everyone, I'll take the time to share with you the new stuff I've been doing since the second head bonk.

You may (or may not) recall that after hitting my head the first time, I was grinding my teeth and clenching my jaw 24/7. It was horrible because it made my jaw ache and gave me headaches. Not to mention the issues with my teeth. If you look closely to my bottom front teeth, you can see where I've totally sheered (is that a correct word?) them. I also broke a tooth in the process- the one that seemed to be my favorite to grind. Oh, and I've loosened one of my front teeth so badly that I'm going to have to have it removed and a bridge placed.

I mention this because after I hit my head the second time- the grinding and clenching completely stopped. It's almost like hitting my head made that part of my brain right again. Weird, but true.

Another affect from the second bonk was that the seroquel quit working. I was walking, talking and doing all kinds of crazy things in my sleep, and I'd wake myself up all night long. So my neurologist upped the dose to 75 mg which did nothing, and then to 100 mg, which seemed to do the trick.

EXCEPT..... it acts like a roofie (as I understand roofies) if I'm not safely tucked in bed by the time it hits. Basically, I can function fairly normally, but my subconscious is completely shut off.

Case in point.....

Last Tuesday was a very bad day for me at work. I was in tears toward the end of the day because someone I admired a lot was saying that something I worked on was a "piece of crap" and more ugliness. What I didn't know at the time was that he wasn't referring to my piece of the project.

I just wanted to go to sleep so I would quit crying and obsessing about it, so I took the seroquel while BER was outside cooking chicken on the grill. Chicken takes a long time to cook on the grill, so by the time it was done- I was in La-La zone.

The next morning, BER drove me to the train station because the roads were really icy and I was a chicken. I noticed that he looked pretty haggard and asked him if he had a rough night or something. Here's how the rest of the conversation went.

BER: Honey, don't you remember that we were up until after midnight last night?
Me: We were? Why were we up so late? I don't remember anything about last night.
BER: You wouldn't go to bed. You were arguing with me, saying that you liked the couch just fine. There was no way I was going to leave you alone.
Me: Come to think of it, I don't remember eating dinner last night. Did we eat dinner?
BER: Yes, we ate dinner and you even made the salad. You don't remember this?
Me: I don't remember any of this. Did I clean the kitchen?
BER: Yes, you cleaned the kitchen. There's something else....
Me: Waaaiiittt a minute- I recall having a dream that I was smoking. Was that real?
BER: Yes. I was outside having a cigarette and you insisted that you wanted to smoke. I tried to tell you no, but you were getting angry about it.

Note- I don't smoke

So, there you have it. Apparently, my subconscious is a bratty rebellious teenager. I think this whole thing is hilarious and quite fascinating. BER said that he could tell that it wasn't 'me' he was talking to because I seemed a little out of it- but still was able to function pretty normally.

Isn't that the most bizarre thing you've ever heard? Poor BER, he deserves a medal for putting up with me and all this craziness.

He doesn't believe in heaven. Won't he be surprised to find himself there for being such a sweet man.