He who joyfully marches to music in rank and file has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would suffice.
I’ve got the brain of a four year old.
I’ll bet he was glad to be rid of it.
In my mind this seems like it just took place, but I know that isn’t true. It popped into my head while I was busy cutting up a tree that had split and fallen in a local widow’s yard. This first nightmare part has been recurring since I was a small child. Why it would insert itself again this late in life I do not know.
This starts out how it always has, me lying on my back on what feels like a cold smooth slab of granite. I slowly opened my eyes to find the atmosphere was shadowy dark and greenish hazy. Directly off of my right side was a huge wall of large roundish boulders, my shoulder was almost touching one of them. They were stacked upon each other the way you would build a wall out of block. This wall went straight up and kept going until the top of it disappeared, like a road vanishes on the horizon. As I lay there trying to figure out if this wall was a triangle like a pyramid, or my limited perception playing a trick on me, I hear the first cracking, grinding noise. All of the boulders from the unforeseen top then start to tumble down. As the noise continues to build the first few come into view. I could see that they were falling straight down the side of the wall. They weren’t making contact and bouncing out of the way, they were heading straight for me, I was frozen. Just before being crushed out of existence, I woke up.
I came to lying on a gravel road staring at bare tree top canopies. I could not catch my breath, as if it had all been knocked out of me. I was lying on top of a frozen over tire rut. My pickup was to the right of me with the driver’s door open and the engine running. I tried to roll over onto my stomach while still trying to get a breath in. My bones were stiff, joints crying from the movement. That’s when I felt the searing pain in my left elbow, like it was on fire. I could feel that there were small pieces of rock embedded in the back of my head skin. I crawled to the door of the truck, tried to pull myself up, feeling embarrassed as hell and wondering, who saw that happen? I thought, that’s right, I remember, I was alone in the woods, there was no one else there. Bracing myself in between the door and the seat I pushed up with my right hand as best I could in an attempt to get inside the cab.
When I woke up, I was sitting, legs splayed out on the floor of my living room, staring at the carpet. This was a WTF moment! I realized my boots were still attached to my feet, still wearing an insulated jacket. There was a sleeve made of a cut up athletic sock pulled up over my left elbow as some homemade compression device. I used a magnifying handheld mirror and tweezers in the bathroom to pluck out the shards of rock that had found a home at the back of my head. I remembered my old man’s voice saying, “Unless there is a bone sticking out or blood spurting from an opening we don’t go to the hospital.” I don’t think I have shared this experience with anyone. Later, I found the truck, it was sitting kinda in the driveway and kinda on the lawn.
I hope that in my lifetime medical researchers find a way to diagnose Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE) while your brain is still in your head. It would sure beat the alternative.