Like falling off a bike. literally.

I fell off my mountain bike last Friday. Actually, let me rephrase that, I flew off my mountain bike last Friday; arms-and-legs flailing, screaming-my-head-off flying. It’s the kind of stupidity I thought I outgrew, like peer pressure and cutting classes to go drinking. The most embarrassing thing about it was, about 25 people saw me actually careening through the air. I can only imagine the collective thought going through everyone’s heads at the time (including mine) – what an idiot.
The funny thing is, I still couldn’t believe it could happen to me – I, who spent my childhood enmeshed in animate activities that would drive any sane parent to tooth-clacking, knee-trembling hysteria if only they knew about it.
When I was a kid, I’ve jumped (fallen) down 10-foot walls while lugging a bag of stolen kamotes (and running from a fuming gardener waving a big-ass bolo), slid down streetlight poles ala fireman-in-action, scaled bayabas and avocado trees in search of Y-shaped branches for slingshots, illegally entered park premises by clambering up the park fences and various other monkey-brained schemes. Most importantly, and I guess, not surprisingly, because of my seemingly uncontained childhood adrenaline, I’ve found the time to learn and eventually become accomplished in Roller Skating, BMX and skateboarding. I’m not going to say that my skills could’ve gotten me into the X-Games, that would’ve been exaggerating, but suffice it to say that for a 10yr old kid and a GIRL for that matter, I could beat most teenagers in a karera.
Anyway, considering my past life as an adrenaline-pumped (kiti-kiti if my mother had anything to say about it) juvenile reprobate, I should have known better than to speed up on a curve. So, here I am with severely bruised elbows and knees and various black and blue pain points on my body. That’s not the only problem though. I’ve been having a constant headache since the incident happened and it’s been four days already. I haven’t told my older sister (the tattletale) nor my mom about it. My mom wasn’t too happy about what happened and has called me repeatedly since Saturday morning so that she could recite a sermon I’ve heard the -enth time using a voice usually reserved to start wildebeest stampedes. The headache’s not actually a big deal, I could even ignore it if I wanted to but knowing when it started and speculating about the probable cause, it’s starting to worry me A LOT. Unfortunately (or ironically), though I never backed down from a challenge, I go tail-between-the-legs scared when it comes to doctors. No, I’ve never been hospitalized because of my over-active behavior as a child so you can rule that out. I just don’t like going to doctors, or to hospitals, for that matter. Maybe it's my irrational fear, like what other people have against ghosts; though on my part, I fear something more concrete. I don’t know what to do. I know it’s unreasonable – I’m covered by medical insurance and I need only get a doctor’s appointment and be present on the day of the appointment, but I just can’t seem to do it. I really don’t know what to do. Maybe it’s just paranoia. I’m fervently hoping that what I’m feeling is only Hypochondria because at least that way, I’m only imagining the pain and there’s really nothing wrong beyond my usual cookoo-ness.
Nevertheless, I am going to give myself a deadline, if this headache’s still with me on Friday, it’s off to the Doctor on the weekend for me (which I'm still fervently hoping against). Wish me luck. Sana all it is is a concussion and nothing worst.