Today is face-bonk, day three. The swelling changes from day to day, and now it's at a point where it takes effort to keep my mouth shut (those of you that know me in person can just shut it- I know I talk a lot). I'll take a picture later, after I comb my hair.

I'm learning some good lessons in this head injury go-round. I'm learning to not judge people by what you see. I frequent a message board and posted about what happened. These people don't know me very well, so they're reacting to what they see. I'm getting lots of comments about getting help for spousal abuse "when I'm ready to deal with this". I know it's coming from a good place, and I know that there's nothing I can tell them that will convince them that I am not an abused spouse. You know how that goes- the more you protest, the guiltier you look.

If *I* saw me on the streets, I'd probably think the same thing. This makes me want to not go anywhere until I'm completely healed, but who knows how long that's going to take. Unfortunately, I'm on pain meds, so I can't go anywhere by myself- so The Hubs has to deal with "the look" whenever we're out together. He's being SUCH a good sport about this. If I were him, I'd refuse to be seen with me because I've always been too wrapped up in what people think. He's always been the one to tell me that I shouldn't care so much what people think. He's been a true example of that these past few days.

Someone from the board mentioned that they were shocked that hospital personnel didn't question me alone about this, and/or social services hasn't been out to see me. I can only guess that people that work in the hospital have a good sense about peoples' relationships when they see them together. Who knows? Maybe they did question me. I have no recollection of the hospital visit, except for snapshots of a couple of things.

I remember moving from one gurney to another to have the CT scan, but nothing more. I remember getting one shot of pain meds in my butt, but apparently I had two. It's so weird to have so much time erased from my memory. I've never experienced that before.

The Hubs will be taking me to the facial surgeon today. I want him in the office with me when we talk to the doctor because I still get a little foggy, but I don't want the doctor to think he's with me to keep me from talking.

I guess on one hand, I'm glad that people look out for each other. But on the other hand, it's too easy to make assumptions. And of course, I feel guilty for putting The Hubs through all of this, because I'm the queen of guilty feelings. He's such a good man and doesn't deserve to be judged like this. This really shows his true character though. His concern is to support me, even if he is judged for something he didn't do.

Me? I'd wait in the car if I were him. That just shows how different we are. I could learn some lessons from him about holding my head high and not worrying about what other people think.

Speaking of worrying about what other people think.... y'all know how I hate to leave the house without makeup, right? Well, I've been debating wearing makeup on my good side just so I don't look 100% horrible. It would KILL me to put makeup on my bad side because I can barely touch my face without wanting to yelp. Is that ridiculous, or what? I've convinced myself to just let it go (well, except for my hair.)