Returning to the scene of the crime

16 April 2009, 11:18

This morning, McG and I went to say Thank you to Phil from Bunnings. I thought returning to the place (piece of floor, actually) where I came to, heaving my guts up like a true Regan, might have been confronting, but it really wasn’t. Although I had spent many weeks reliving the moment I came out of the concussion on the floor, headlong into a fog of pain, knowing instinctively that something was wrong, I had managed to get things into perspective and work through those moments over the past few months. It was a bit like saying hello (and F you!) to an old toxic friend whose vindictiveness and poisonous jibes no longer had any emotional affect on me. Liberating, that was. Yes.

I had absolutely no recollection of what Phil looked like (too intent was I on the crazed vortex that was my brain at the time) so it was a bit odd talking to someone I didn’t recognise who knew exactly what I’d been through (and looked like – shudder) that day.

Anyone who knows me knows I’m not a particularly demonstrative person, but I had to give the man a big hug and it didn’t even feel weird! He was a genuinely nice, humble ex-cop who gave a fresh new meaning to the phrase “I’ve just been Bunningsed”...

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