It was back to normal today. I managed to get a sufficient amount of sleep last night, and dashed out of the bed this morning with a spring in my step. Or at least I got up without a grumble and got straight into the shower. It was another busy day at work. I had stacked up appointments added to a full schedule of training classes, and there is never enough time in a day for everything I need to do.
I was full of energy…running full steam ahead…until midday. That was when my steam finally ran out. It was coincidentally right around the time I was stuck in my office doing a three hour learning module on my computer.
After the umpteenth slow motion computer simulation, I was starting to drift. I had given up caffeine so a nice cold diet Coke was not an option. There was no choice but to suck it up and get through the program as fast as possible. I had to pay attention—there was an assessment at the end.
I rested my elbow on my desk and propped my head up by leaning into my hand—the way one does when pouring over mind-numbing materials in an online format.
It wasn’t more than a minute before I realized that I was hearing a strange clicking sound. I sat up straight and the sound disappeared. I didn’t think much of it until I leaned my head against my hand again and the clicking started up again. It seemed to be coming from inside my head.
I pressed my hand against my head and the clicking got louder. I sat up straight again and the sound stopped. I rested my hand on the side of my head and the sound was back. I could feel a panic attack coming on. There was something very wrong with me. My brain was making a clicking noise when I pressed on my head, and it was now more than a week since I’d hit my head on the car door. I was certain that this meant I had truly done it—I’d cracked my skull and when I put any pressure on it, it would crack wide open. This was bad. I tried cupping my hand against my ear without more than a whisper of pressure and I could still hear the clicking.
I jolt of anxiety coursed through me.
I got out of my chair and I was going to march straight out of my office to inform the branch manager that I was heading to the hospital. Or maybe I would have them call me an ambulance. After all, should a woman whose skull was cracking from the inside out even get behind the wheel of a car? My brain was a ticking time bomb and I was…
As I reached for the door handle I stopped cold. I lifted my hand—the one that had been the resting place for my weary head just a minute ago—and I looked at it.
I turned around and sat in my chair.
Thankfully I hadn’t made it out of my office. Thankfully I hadn’t gone out to tell everyone I was minutes away from disintegrating into bone dust and brains. My skull wasn’t clicking. My head wasn’t coming apart. My brains weren’t minutes away from falling out.
I was wearing a watch. A new watch. And it was ticking.
Do these things ever happen to anyone but me?
My husband told me I should absolutely not admit to anyone that this happened. I disagree. I think it is a very important public service announcement. It should be on the packaging for anyone who purchases a new watch.
“Enclosed watch may emit a ticking noise that is faintly perceptible when placed in the vicinity of the ear. This is normal. Do not panic. Watches do this.”
I would have benefitted from that warning.
Until the next time…I’ll be leaving my watch on the bedside table!