If anyone’s wondering whether I’ve fallen off the planet…the answer is yes, but only temporarily.
Last weekend 13th to 17th Sept I decided to do a bunk and take off to glorious Dorset in the West Country to spend the entire weekend writing my latest novel. It’s a self made writers’ retreat. I sit in my tent and write while my partner makes all of the meals. Bliss. We go for a few leisurely walks together and I take lots of time to plot my novel and get all creative.
So far so good, it’s a plan. Driving down to Dorset, some hundred miles from home, was frustrating. It was raining and for some inexplicable reason the traffic was dreaful. A two and half hour journey took four and a half hours. Not to worry, we had plenty of music and snacks in the car to keep us entertained.
Arriving at the camp site the heavens broke and it chucked it down. Not to worry, it’s only a little tent and easily erected. Now, did I mention that this was a new tent? Yep, we hadn’t checked it and one of the poles was broken! Never mind, we can ask the camp site owners for help. Fortunately they know us well and had some poles they’d salvaged from the bins and one of the fitted. By nightfall our litle tent was up and we were on the phone to the Chinese takeway ordering masses of food to be delivered while we dried out.
Excellent. I sat and wrote and wrote, my novel flowing easily. We didn’t care that it rained and the wind battered the tent, insde we were safe, dry and happy.
On Tuesday we broke camp, laughing as it continued to rain and saying what an excellent weekend we’d had. We’re easily pleased.
I know the route home like the back of my hand, that is until the police close a road and we head off down country lanes to goodness knows where. Okay, so we got to see a lot of roads and towns I’d never encountered before, but some hour after being diverted I see a road I recognise and we’re back on track.
Happy, happy we stop at a Little Chef for a rest and a snack. We’ve had a great weekend and I’ve written thousands of words for my novel.
It’s the home run, only forty or so miles to go. Outside Winchester I stop at a roundabout, knowing that my car under heavy load won’t outrun the vehicle approaching on the roundabout. We appear to be the only two cars on the road. Then. Wallop! Shock! A vehicle has hit the back of my car, shunted us forwards, flipped my head backwards and forwards. I can’t believe it! Where on earth did he come from?
Stepping out of my car I do the right thing and exchange insurance details, blah, blah even though my head is reeling and I feel like I’ve been punched into the middle of next week. My car’s a little 4X4 so there’s minimal damage, the spare wheel on the back taking most of the blow.
Traffic builds up and the police cruise by to make sure we’re all okay and once the formalities are over I drive to a quiet road and go, ‘I just need to shake off the shock for a while.’ Eventually I decide I’m up to driving the rest of the way home, but I need to take several breaks.
Once home I call a friend to take me to A&E to get checked out and after many hours of waiting I’m told that I have whiplash and can expect to feel worse the following day and should rest up for at least two weeks. That is not what I intended doing with my life, trust me.
In hopital they give you a useful information leaflet about whiplash symptoms, so that you know what to expect and what creates more cause for concern. ‘Mild headache (feels like someone’s hit me with a sledge hammer), feeling sick (without vomiting), dizziness (so which way is the floor?!), irritability or bad temper (who me?!!!), problems concentrating or problems with memory (Why did I walk into this room?), tiredness (Yawn), lack of appetite or problems sleeping (Nope, I’ve eaten more than usual and slept longer).
So if anyone’s wondering why I haven’t answered their blog post, please accept my apologies. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible once the brain redocks with the mothership!