At Witz’ End

A Floggin’ to My Noggin

     Yet another trip to the ER. On December 24th I slipped on the ice when leaving a business and smacked the back of my head hard enough to lose consciousness. They wanted to call an ambulance; I wanted to go home. When I couldn’t stand on my own, I realized that I should probably get checked out and humbly accepted a ride from one of the employees. At check-in I couldn’t write my name, I knew it, but just didn’t know how to write it. I felt like my thinking was really clear, but the thought-to-mouth process was fairly delayed. Thankfully the CT didn’t show any fractures or bleeds, so only a concussion. 

     Only a concussion, which led to horrible vertigo through the night. The ER doctor suggested meclizine, however, since it was Christmas nothing was open so I tried Dramamine because it was what I had on hand, completely forgetting that it gave me a giant itchy patch on my face. By mid-afternoon on Christmas Day, I realized I hadn’t only lost consciousness and pride, I’d also lost my sense of smell, Anosmia. I can still taste, so I’m hopeful that as swelling decreases, smelling increases. I REALLY like to smell.
     There’s a Lifetime movie about a woman who get’s a concussion on Christmas Eve and the plot line is MUCH more romantic and I think she could still smell. In fact, I think she kept getting do overs until the day went the way it was supposed to.

     Here’s a link with a visual of what I think might have happened.  Quite frankly, the medical profession doesn’t get too worked up if you can’t smell, but I REALLY like to smell.  In fact, I include the sensory memory of smell as part of my vacations, and I would totally buy a smellivision.  
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Lisa Witz
I started this site back in 2012 to keep friends and family updated on what we all thought was a rare cancer—just one of many diagnostic detours on my nearly thirty-year Medical Mystery Tour. I’ve seen more -ologists than I can count… but only one real-life McDreamy. Clinical trials? Tried them. Naturopathy, diets, essential oils? Been there, sniffed that. I’ve tested it all so you don’t have to. But navigating a chronic “mystery illness” while single—and after the loss of my parents and brother—has been, well… arduous…sometimes absurd. Then in the spring of 2022, the beast was named: Mast Cell Activation Syndrome. Two months later, I stumbled on a prayer my mom had written years earlier—maybe a decade or more—pleading for healing. For both of us. Finding it was humbling and holy. Not everyone has a mother who prays, and that discovery became the heartbeat of my book: “For Cryin’ Out Loud: One Medical Mystery, Thirty Years of Suffering… but Today Is a Hallelujah Day!” I’ve made it this far on the prayers of a prolific family (thirty-plus strong) and friends beyond counting. The journey’s not done yet, but I keep putting one foot—sometimes one diagnosis—after the other.
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2 responses to “A Floggin’ to My Noggin”

  1. John Prater Avatar
    John Prater

    Ah, you youg'ins fascinate me. As I have grown older than dirt, have had multiple injuries, multiple surgeries, am living without multiple original body parts, now have man made body parts, I have learned to exercise CAUTION at all times while doing even the simplest of activities.

    You are valuable!!! CAUTION you must learn and use! As ever, EL VIEJO ALEGRE—-JLP

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  2. Sister Sniffer – The Next Step…

    […] to the Christmas Eve of  Concussion of ’12 , I deal with Dysosmia*. Ironically, due to my profession (or the concussion), I keep thinking […]

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