My Sunday

Well as usual, I have hockey games on Sunday. This particular Sunday was no exception. I was sitting outside putting together a playlist for a CD to listen to while I drive to Bill's Golfland. Everything was going great. People were actually coming to watch my team play, and we were playing a team that was very competitive. This had the makings for a really fun time. Little did I know things would take a turn for the worse.

I don't really remember much of anything - before the hit or afterwards. All I know is that when I finally came-to, I was at home. Ken tells me that I was carrying the puck across the red line when somebody stepped into me while I was skating at full speed. I can't tell you much more. My head hurts. My jaw hurts. I can't stop asking questions that I asked ten minutes ago. I hate concussions...

Did I mention that I have the absolute best friends I could ever wish to have? Ted, Anne and Rollo all made sure I was OK. Ted drove me home (from what I'm told) and hopefully we didn't scare my mom too badly with my battered self. I'm also told that we went to CiCi's (the local pizza eatery and all around good times place). I don't remember much about that either. I'm told that Joe Cirnelli was there. I don't remember him being there. In fact, why don't I just list these things.

Things I don't remember:

• Putting on my skates to play hockey.
• The hit.
• The ride home.
• The ride to Washington & CiCi's.
• The ride home.
• Giving myself a CAT scan with Murphy (my cat).
• The ride home.

Things I do remember:

• Sitting on my porch after I got home.
• Talking to Droid for a while.
• Going to bed.
• Having a dream about EVERYBODY. (And I mean EVERYBODY)
• Waking up with the worst headache ever.

Lesson to be learned? I sure wish I could remember... Concussions stink...