More good news

I talked to a Mayo person today about worker's comp. It looks like it's all going to be covered. She was wonderful. I am so relieved. What they will do is cover everything and then sue him for the bills. Poor guy...he'll never be anything but poor I'm afraid. My bills are already over 120,000 and I'm not even half done with therapy, and the kids haven't started their counseling yet either. All of this hell because someone drove drunk. Pretty incredible the devastation it causes. You don't really think about it until you're in it...I mean, of course you think "Oh, I won't drink and drive, i would hate if I hurt someone or myself..." but you just don't even realize the full impact it has on someone until it crushes you into the steering wheel and shoves a trach tube down your throat, leaves your body scarred and screaming and your family reeling and lost. It's huge. So huge I can't even describe in words the full impact this has had on my life, on everyone's lives. Amazing. And yet, I still feel so lucky...and I've managed to take so much good from every day, well almost every day...and I know things will get better.

Damn TBIs

OK, some things I've noticed. I'm not sure if it's the TBI or just stress and depression/anxiety, but I've noticed I am easily distracted and irritable lately. The thing is, I'm only really like that with Carl...so I guess I can't blame it all on the TBI if it's isolated incidents like that eh? Or is it SAD? I know I have had trouble with that in the past, so this year with my lack of mobility I shouldn't be surprised that it's worse. I forget appointments if I don't write them down right away...didn't I do that before though? I do worry though, because I have noticed when I am doing homework that I don't retain things as easily as I did....it has to be quiet for me to do a reading assignment, and I used to do it with the tv on, or in a room full of people at school talking and being obnoxious...so what's different? I am pretty stressed out lately...thinking about money and bills and hoping everything keeps on smoothing out the way it has along this whole horrible ordeal.

I don't think I've ever been through so much hell in my life. It's so strange to look back and say, holy shit I made it through that. I can't believe it. Sometimes I think I've made it through the worst, and sometimes I feel like the worst is yet to come. The physical worst is over, the emotional worst is still gathering its force, I'm afraid. I have too much time to sit and think...too much time to worry about the kids, worry about Carl and I, bills, my health, how everything I do and everything I plan is so different. I can be mad about that sometimes....I get over it quickly, but dammit I deserve to be mad. I can't believe sometimes how very huge this accident has been....how it's changed every facet of my life and so many others...how unfair. How can the law possibly be fit enough to assign a punishment that justifies the hell we have gone through because of his actions? I don't even know where to begin.

I'm scared about work. I have to meet with Occupational Therapy soon and be evaluated to see how much of my job duties I'm capable of performing at this point. What if I can't do some things? What if I get back to work and have to relearn parts of my job like I had to relearn other things? What if my forgetfulness isn't just stress and I can't do parts of my job safely? It's hard to even read these words in black and white...it's so stark and real and frightening.

I know that no matter what, God is watching over me. He has brought me through mountains I never thought I'd have to climb, and I know in my faith I will be fine...just need to churn out some thoughts before they start to eat at me.

OK that's better

I keep thinking of that dumb commercial where they say, "What a difference today makes!" Because I feel much better today. I am rid of both armcasts now and only need them when I am out and it's icy. Carl and I had a long talk last night and decided we like each other too much to let some drunk 23-year-old ruin our awesome marriage. Well...I'm awesome anyway. And Carl is well-hung, so...

I have 3 sick kids home today...flubug of some kind, icky tummies and headaches , runny noses and coughs. My stomach has been rumbly for 2 days so I suppose I'm next. lol gives me something to do. Sick...

I am making a list of all of the ways this accident has affected our lives. I will be giving a victim impact statement in a week or so at the hearing, and I read that DA letter and so much more has come into play since then. I seem to be having a harder time now than I did weeks ago...maybe it was the morphine. lol Physically, I'm doing so much better, I'm doing more and more all the time...but emotionally I am so beat. I am sick of sitting here all the time...I'm sick of hurting...I think maybe being in pain has brought my spirits down...and I thought sticking to ibuprofen would be best for me, but I always hurt. Have to talk to the doc about that tomorrow.

Carl and I are going to start taking the kids to counseling. This has had such a huge impact on everyone, and most of all I want to be sure the kids and Carl come through this ok. Yet another chapter unfolds in the saga of drunk driver bullshit. LOL

Yeah Yeah...

I thought I should do a post today but I am too negative. I don't like Carl. I am achy and tired and crabby...so I probably shouldn't post because it won't be pretty. This thought keeps going through my head: What is wrong with me? What do I want? What will make me feel better?And a voice answers, I want a divorce, I want a divorce, I want a divorce. LMAO but it's so not funny...I don't think I really want a divorce but I am sure tired of dealing with a spoiled, arrogant man who acts out instead of dealing with his emotions...kind of like my 3 year old.

I'll post tomorrow after my doc appointment tomorrow. I hope he tells me I can get rid of this God blessed cast on my left arm, or I may bite off his bushy eyebrows.

Healing

How am I healing? At about 10 weeks post-accident, here's the latest.
My right arm is still a little tender and weak, but I have full use of it, and my hand. My nose is straight and almost cute! LOL and the scars on my face have really faded. Thank God for good makeup though. Ok, I am still a little vain. There is still some glass in my chin and lip, but it isn't painful so I hesitate to have the doc cut me open to pull it out and give me more stitches. It'll come out sometime. lol The swelling in my face is nearly gone, although the skin is still numb and lately feels like there are spiders running over the top of my head and forehead. We all know how much I like spiders. Icky feeling...but it's good because it means the nerves are regenerating and I'm regaining feeling in those numb areas. My hip is totally healed and I'm walking with just a slight limp. My leg does tire after awhile, but I try hard to ignore that. My left arm is still in the splint, but I am stubborn and take it off to do dishes, shower, and sleep. I kept it on for a month solid and am gradually strengthening now...my left hand is still not 100%...my ring finger doesn't straighten all the way and I can't make a fist yet. That's what therapy is working on now, and as I thought, it will be the slowest injury to return to normal. I work with that hand a lot each day... My stomach incision is sore this week...probably from being way more active cuz I feel so good...but it's healed well and I think I'm even gaining some weight back. I've been on antibiotics for the last 3 weeks with sinus trouble, which will likely always be the case as my body isn't able to fight infection as it used to without my spleen. Gotta love antibiotics. ugh.

I help Carl make supper each night. I bathe the 3 little ones each night and tuck them into bed. (I have to add that it hurts to do this but I just have to cuz I'm anal about bath/bedtime routines) I help Zack and PJ with their homework, and I clean the house and do laundry...it does my spirits a lot of good to walk across clean floors everyday!! My baby girl lets me put her to sleep now, before she only wanted daddy. And I drove, by myself, on Clairemont Ave last week. I didn't even shake until after I got out of the car. lol I know I'm getting well enough to be out and about more because I am so bored...the house is so clean it hurts. I've reorganized almost all of the cupboards and bedrooms...so next, back to work? No one's given me a return date yet, but you bet I'll be asking at my next appointment. I only have to get the ok from about 4 different docs. Carl looks so nervous each time I mention going back to work. I know I'm at least a few weeks away but it gives me something to look forward to. I imagine the docs d on't want me lifting much since they had a fit when I said it hurt my arm to lift the baby... And I know I couldn't handle a 12-hour day like I used to, not yet. A few weeks ago, I'd have one or two 'good' days and then I'd be exhausted. Now I have about 4 good days in a row and then the 5th day I take a 2-hour nap...so that's better! Even God needed a rest on the 7th day, man.

All in all, I'm doing well. More doc appointments next week to chart my progress, and then we'll have a better idea of how I'm doing.

More Angels

Time for a really uplifting post. Before this accident, Carl and I were so busy with kids, work and school that we didn't make time for our friends, we didn't do things outside of home unless it was with the kids, and we just really kept to ourselves. Carl and I are so much alike in the fact that we have had very little faith in human nature, and since we found total faith and great company in each other, we have just nurtured our relationship and the family. I have said so many times, "I don't like people. I love taking care of sick people because they are appreciative, and I feel good knowing I am making a difference for them...but I don't like the general public because they are horrible to each other and I want no part of it." This accident has really proven me wrong. I cannot believe the number of people who have reached out to us. My coworkers made our Christmas wonderful, Mom's coworkers made our Christmas wonderful...and our family has been SO unbelievably supportive, I just bubble over with love for all of them for being so good to us during this time. You have all renewed my faith in human nature, and proven to me that goodhearted people are everywhere. I am sooo looking forward to being healed and able to repay all of the wonderful people who have helped us in so many ways. You are all my angels and I am so grateful for you all.

More Crap

For the last 3 days, my Carl has been having anxiety attacks. He used to have them a long time ago, before we were married, and now they're back. Since we've been together I don't remember him ever having one. I know it's because he's juggling so much right now...the kids' daycare schedule, work pressures, doing for the kids what I still can't here at home...I wish he'd listen to me and just get some medication to help him get through this. As well as we're all doing, this is friggen HARD. I mean, harder than almost anything I've ever been through in my life. It's frustrating to see Carl try so hard and now to feel like he can't even breathe, and just sitting still and trying to draw a deep breath is difficult. I feel sorry for him...I hope they get better, if not I'll have to tie hm up and forcefeed him benedryl just to make him calm down. He was doing so much better too...

Gabe and Kianna were playing last night, and Kianna's lying on the floor with her eyes closed, and she's whispering to Gabe, "come here husband. I was in a car crash. my arms and my hip are broken, and I have owies on my face. I can't talk good cuz I had a tube in my throat. Bring me my baby, I miss her so much." At which point Gabe hands her a carebear and she hugs it tight and closes her eyes. And Gabe says, "we're playing pretend, and Kianna was hit by a drunk driver." what a game for kids to play, eh? So they played it out for like 15 minutes while Carl and I watched with teary eyes. It's interesting to see it from their perspective. I know it's healthy for them to act out their feelings, and so I was relieved to see them do that. When they were done, we talked a bit about the accident...how textbook, eh? It was awesome.

School

Ok so this one made me almost mad enough to really spew some nasty comments. LOL I got two letters from college last week; one that says I'm losing my financial aid because I failed to complete 67% of my required credits. No kidding? huh. Wonder where I was? Tahiti? LOL So I call financial aid, schedule a review hearing. The next day, I get a letter from the business office saying I'm being dropped from my spring semester classes because I haven't paid for them yet. LOL not funny though...so I get ready for my review hearing and bring the letter from the business office with me so I can take care of both issues and make sure everythng is squared away. My F.A. advisor and I work out a plan that will allow me to retain my financial aid and still stick to the plan my instructors and I had come up with to graduate only one semester behind. Then she realizes, OH, by that time you'll have attempted more than the max number of credits. I can't give you your financial aid. I'm bawling. I can't afford to pay for nursing school all on my own...wish I could, but I can't. So I'm thinking, I am being prevented from working in my chosen career because of a drunk driver. How unfair is that? And I'm bawling...and I bewildered the F.A. advisor, so I told her why I was so upset...she goes running to the admissions director and comes back with an app for the RN program, which is the 2nd half of the program for me...she tells me to fill it out, we're getting you into the advanced placement program now and that way your credit load doubles and you qualify for financial aid again. Also, I get into the 2nd half of my program a year sooner than I had originally thought. YEAH!! God is good! So, an upsetting moment turned out to be even better than I imagined it would. Another thing to count as a blessing...

New Teef

I got my permanent crowns yesterday for my front teeth. Still need about $700 worth of work on 5 other teeth that chipped in the crash, but thank God for insurance coverage eh? I keep running my tongue over these teeth, they feel so perfect and funny...the dentist even smoothed out the little overlap I had between my left front tooth and the next tooth to the left...what a guy. Called it "bridge orthodontics." LOL

*grin* (chime heard in background as the light glints off my new teef)

Getting My Legs Under Me

The First Time I Walked


I remember laughing when the therapist brought in the goofy, 4-wheeled walker with platform armrests. Walkers are for old people, I giggled to myself. And now I’m going to be using one?? What have I been reduced to? lol I had just been off the ventilator for 3 days, and in the hospital for a week. There’s a central line in my chest, a chest tube dangling under my left arm, and a catheter in my bladder…I have 7 broken bones, and bumps, cuts and bruises everywhere…and you want me to walk?? Are you nuts lady?? YEAH! I’m excited. I stood up slowly, clumsily, unable to put any weight on my left leg. Lifting my arms to the platforms of the walker made my collarbone feel like fire, it took my breath away. I ignored the pain and took my first step. OW. Second step…OW. “How do you feel?” the therapist asked me. “Like I just got out of a giant tumble dryer.” I replied through gritted teeth. And I walked, and walked and walked. It felt so good to be on my feet, to be in control of my body with the help of this walker and the therapist whose name I can’t remember but whose face I’ll never forget. “Are you sure you want to keep going?” she’d ask. I didn’t want to stop…”You’ll be sore tomorrow I bet,” she’d say, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to walk…to know I still could. Every chance I got, I was walking. To the bathroom, the shower, the nurses’ station, everywhere. It hurt like hell but I didn’t care…I just needed to move, to get my muscles working, to feel alive and get those endorphins going. I showered every day, I wanted to shower more than once a day at first, to get the blood and glass rinsed out of my hair, my fingernails, my skin. Someone said, “you’re too sick to be up to the shower every day.” To hell I was. By the second week, I wouldn’t let anyone help me in the shower anymore. I needed to be able to do it myself, I needed to get better so I could get home to my family. In the shower, I let the hot water pound on my poor body…I gingerly washed my huge tummy incision, (34 staples) my hip incision, (21 staples) and my stitched-up face and left side. I had big casts on my hands yet, so we covered them with plastic bags and tape to keep them dry. Through the bags, I washed my hair, which was falling out so fast from all of the trauma I had endured. My hair is now about 7 inches shorter than it was before the accident…and it is growing in again where it had gotten thin…the whole left side of my scalp was thinning, probably the skin’s response to my injury there. I also have a strip along the back of my head where it looks like the hair was ripped right out, probably when my hair clip smashed into the seat or something…I’m not sure.

The hardest part about being injured was being away from my family. I had never spent more than 3-4 days away from the kids, and only twice---once from Zack and PJ when Carl and I went to Vegas, and once this October from all 6 kids for Chris and Ann’s wedding. That was hard enough, but to be away from them for weeks at a time…that was so hard. I couldn’t think of it very much, I couldn’t wonder how they were doing or imagine what they might be up to…it was too hard and I missed them too much. Carl brought them to see me every day…I was always so happy to see them, even though I was so exhausted when they left. Everything made me so tired.
I’m glad Dad had brought me my broken backpack that he rescued from the totaled van, so at least I had my schoolbooks to keep me busy. My books also helped to keep my mind off the pain. That was the second hardest thing about my injuries…the pain was constant…everything I did caused searing pain in my broken bones, but I refused to lie there and let pain decide what I can and cannot do. I was in charge of my body. I was in control of what I could do. My body was the only thing I could control.

Today

I am so tired today! I cleaned the whole house yesterday...did laundry, swept my floors and mopped, cleaned one of the bathrooms and wiped down the kitchen counters. Man, did that feel good...but today, I am exhausted. It's strange--I used to run from 4am to 11pm with work, kids, and school, but now I get tired from cleaning house and getting the kids off to school and daycare each morning. Whew. Well, at least I am able to get around a little better and do things around here that need doing, even if it does take me all day. Cleaning and organizing is like therapy for me...when there is turmoil on the inside, it makes me feel so much better to make my surroundings look nice. I guess turmoil isn't the word I'd use for how I feel...but not being in control of my circumstances is sometimes bewildering. It's scary to think about the possibility of not recovering fully, or having problems down the road because of my injuries. I know that I'll just deal with those things as they come, and that God will bring me through anything I come up against, so I try not to worry...but sometimes I do...I'm human. I shouldn't be vain and be upset about how my looks have changed, I know that's not right...I should be thankful that I'm still here...and I am! And in a way, the imperfections and scars on my face have made me realize something. I have always been so self conscious about my looks, and just overcritical of myself all the time. I wondered, what would I do if I was really ugly? How would I get through the days if my face was disfigured or less attractive? Now I know. Beauty is not about physical appearance, it's about the beauty within, and that's another lesson I've learned through all of this. When I would go into stores or the doctor's office, I could feel people stare at me, and I'm sure they wonder what happened...and at first it really bothered me...and then I got so I'd just tell them, "I was injured in a car accident by a drunk driver." And the scars on my face have become my conversation starter, a way for me to be able to warn everyone I can about the devastation of drunk driving. Now, the scars are so faded and the swelling is gone, so the only badge left is my left arm splint and a limp. lol Now I tell people Carl beat me up. LMAO

Court Hearing

He goes to court today. He already plead not guilty...ha! that makes me laugh somehow. Carl and his brother are going to the hearing...I just didn't think I could...it's still way too fresh for me to face him, I know I'd just cry the whole time...and then they might think Deb is right and I AM suffering effects from the TBI. lmao

So, let's pray that his sentence is just and right, and that he realizes the extent of what he has done, and I pray for his family that they cease their enabling behaviors and he faces this on his own. I pray that he changes his ways, that he receives the help he needs and maybe even decides to help people like him to get better, or at least opens his eyes and his heart to become the person God meant for him to be.

UPDATE: Just got the call from Carl and his brother who went to the hearing today. The guy didn't show up, but his lawyer did (as did mine) and they did decide to up his charges to a felony, which means he will not be spending time in jail, but in prison. I guess once the D.A. heard of the extent of my injuries, there was no question that he would be charged criminally. Sucks to be him. I do feel badly for him because he is so young, and I know he didn't intentionally cause me harm...but he made a conscious decision to get behind the wheel after getting drunk. I have my own sentence now, and mine will be longer than his...I'll never be the same again, and when he walks out of prison at the end of his sentence, he'll do it on 2 legs that haven't known the pain that mine do every day, and the frustration of severe physical limitations. He's so lucky he didn't cause me permanent spinal cord damage or worse...I don't think I'd be able to restrain Carl from doing him serious harm if he had!

Kaeden

I haven't talked much about this aspect of the effects of the accident because it makes me so sad...my stepson Kaeden has behavioral/emotional issues. He lies, he's impulsive, has trouble forming healthy relationships with people, and is always getting in trouble. He has been through a lot. I seemed to be one of the few people who could get through to him. After living with us for 3 years, he was really making some good progress. He had been bounced around his mother's family for most of his life, spending only the first 2 1/2 years with his mother, the rest with her aunt or her own mother, which didn't do him any good either as his grandma is a neurotic, selfish person. We won't get into detail about her....let's just say she didn't do him any favors by condoning his bad behavior "because he's been through so much" and encouraging him to rely on her for everything instead of teaching him to be accountable, independent, and have confidence. We spent a lot of time teaching him these values....teaching, reinforcing, teaching, reinforcing...he is a lot of work, but it seemed to be paying off for him.

Ok, so Kaeden's behavioral issues...he was pretty well-behaved for us. His grades had gotten better, and he didn't seem to have as many anger issues as he did when he first lived with us. However, we were not aware of the fights he was starting every day at school, to the point where the public school system was going to expell him. Shock to us. So when I got in this accident, he kind of flipped out. He was difficult for Carl to manage with everything else going on and me not there to help. So, he went to live with his mother in Oregon. In a way, it's better for him to be with her right now because she needs to address some of his abandonment issues as they started with her. But it makes me sad that we couldn't meet his needs anymore as the focus couldn't be on him, but had to be on my hospitalization and how Carl's and my roles as parents totally changed....I was absent completely, and Carl was trying to be with me at the hospital as much as possible while also being dad and working....quite a large load compared to our normal routine. I really miss that routine. The other kids seem to be adjusting well...in fact, I think they really like mom being home all the time even though she can't do all of the things she used to. So anyway the point is that I am sad that this accident forced us to lose one of our kids. That's how I feel. H is such a special needs kid that, because of the changes in our lives due to this accident, we couldn't give him what he needed. I wrestle with that somedays. The saddest thing about it is, since he left, everyone has commented on how much happier the rest of the kids are and how well they get along. I guess we weren't even aware of what an instigator Kaeden was...I hope he gets the help he needs, and can get a handle on his issues and someday come back to live here. I miss him a lot....he was my bud. We get to talk to him every day, so that's the good thing.

D.A. Letter

Copy of the letter I wrote to the D.A. about my case. Don't know if it will make a difference for the sentencing or not, but we'll see. I think he has a pretrial hearing today.

To whom it May Concern,

My name is Lisa Kurschner. I am the injured party in the accident on hwy 29 with Lucas Fox on November 5. After being extracted from my mangled vehicle, I was rushed to Luther Hospital. Upon arrival, emergency surgery was done to remove my ruptured spleen. I was intubated, put on a ventilator and a chest tube was inserted for a punctured and collapsed left lung. Many doctors have told me it’s amazing that I made it through alive. My left hip is broken, which will confine me to a wheelchair for the next 6-8 weeks, after which I will relearn how to walk. I had surgery to remove shattered bones in my right wrist, which leaves my fingers numb and painful. My left palm was cut deeply and full of broken glass, and was torn between my middle and ring fingers, down into the back of my hand, tearing a ligament and breaking a metacarpal. My mangled wedding rings had to be cut off my finger and I’m told they’re beyond repair…my wedding rings. I underwent two surgeries at Luther to repair my hands. My left clavicle is broken. I suffered several lacerations to my face, and my nose was broken badly, and even after three hours of plastic surgery I am left with many scars, numbness and swelling, and even a few pieces of glass left in my face to “work themselves out” over time. I have a broken vertebra in my lumbar spine that I’m told is minor, but makes my feet feel as though they’re on fire or covered in glass.
These are just my physical injuries. The emotions and stress my family and I have endured are unbelievable. My month-long hospital stay took me away from my 6 children, while my husband tried to work and maintain the household without me. I had to stop breastfeeding my baby girl because of my long hospital stay, not to mention my broken hands and the medications I have to take for pain now. I can’t hold my children. My hands and collarbone are not well enough and may not be for months. I can’t care for my babies on my own, as I won’t be strong enough or able. I cannot work for at least 2 months, so my contribution to our family income is reduced to zero. To a family this size, that is a scary reality. I was a full time student in the nursing program at CVTC, but will have to delay or repeat my courses once I am able to walk again. This accident will prevent me from graduating as a nurse in May of 2006.
Although I do not believe that Lucas Fox got behind the wheel with the intention of causing my family and I all of this suffering and injury, he got behind the wheel after drinking alcohol…and not for the first time, either. Something has to be done to get through to this man before someone is killed, as I very nearly was. I don’t believe he should ever be given another chance to drive recklessly while under the influence, and maybe that will serve as a reminder to him of the life he nearly took, but definitely altered severely. I will never be the same again.
Please receive this letter not from a bitter, angry victim, because I am not that. I am so thankful to be alive that my heart overflows. I have another chance at a life I love so much! But receive this letter from a severely injured woman who is seeking to ensure that no one else has to endure this kind of suffering at the hands of Lucas Fox. If he is unable to make wise decisions concerning drinking and driving, then he should not be allowed to drive at all. He should spend much time thinking about the lives he’s altered so greatly, and he should undergo alcohol abuse counseling and treatment. I also wish that he would have to spend time with the families of drunk driver victims, to hear firsthand of the pain and anguish that this devastating decision can cause. I pray for Lucas Fox and his family, and hope that he understands fully the impact he has had on so many lives…my entire family’s, my coworkers, classmates and friends…and the life that I knew is no longer mine. I face each day with painful broken bones to mend, and a wheelchair or walker to depend upon for mobility. Each night I wake up in a cold sweat, heart pounding, as I relive the accident that I pray I never remember while I’m conscious. I thank God that I am strong, and am healing well with the love and support of family and friends, but I grieve for the life I have been cheated out of. I will face the reality of this accident every day of my life, and so should Lucas Fox.

Sincerely,


Lisa Kurschner

I should add to this that the removal of my spleen has left me with a compromised immune system. I have to be on antibiotics at the slightest sniffle or fever to prevent my body from being attacked by massive infection that can normally be warded off by the functions of the spleen. I'll have to deal with that for the rest of my life. Another HUGE impact this accident has had...ok next post.

Looking Back

I found a letter I pounded out on a word document about a month ago. It's funny to look back at how I felt that day...the lawyer was right. He said it's important to keep track of every day, because "you're such a positive person that you'll find the good in every day, but you need to remember the negative too, because this is part of the reality of what happened to you." He's so nice...

So here's one of my few "angry" days...I've really only had about...5 days that I was feeling really negative. I have so much to be thankful for, I don't want to ruin that by dwelling on negative thoughts or emotions.

Today…

Today I’m angry and sad. Angry because my face is scarred and my smile looks forced. So pissed off at myself for not appreciating my looks when I had them…cuz boy, I had them. Looking at pictures from Halloween, one week before the accident…it makes me so sad, I look so happy, I had no idea what would happen next… Now the left side of my face is half frozen and full of glass. How awful…sure doesn’t do much for a girl’s desirability I guess. Neither does tipping the scales at a whopping 125 pounds when You’re nearly 5’11”, thanks to your newly-improved hip, which makes my left leg longer by about an inch or so…I’m so sick of feeling like I’m going through this alone…I sit here alone every day and think. I’d love to be doing other things, but I get little more than half of any task done and pain forces me to stop. I’m SO SICK OF THAT. Angry because I’m in constant pain, I limp on a broken hip and try and go about some semblance of a daily routine with a cast up past my elbow and a stiff right wrist. I’m so sad….because I am forced to find a new way to be a part of my family…the family that I have been the glue for since forever…forced to find another way to have some sort of relationship with my husband, because I can’t seem to get back to the silly banter and teasing that we always had…everything he says cuts me and I see him as selfish, short-tempered and insensitive…but wasn’t he always? Why is it so hard for me to deal with now??? Because I’m tired of it always being about him…it’s always been about him, and it can’t be now. It’s got to be about the kids, and doctor’s appointments, and whether or not Lisa can manage on her own. I’M MANAGING, DAMMIT. What else can I do?? I’m so mad at that damn asshole for doing this to my life. I can’t believe how full of rage I am for him…I just want my life back. I’m SO ANGRY at that guy for taking it away from me…what right did he have? What the hell was he thinking? I had everything just the way I wanted it, things were working out so perfectly…and now here I sit, running my half-numb fingers over the bumps of glass in my face, looking at the ugly splint I’m stuck in for yet another month…watching my kids sleep and wishing to God they would never have had to go through the pain of wondering whether or not their mama was going to live. WHAT RIGHT DOES THAT FUCKER HAVE TO PUT MY FAMILY THRU THIS???? I want to bash his head in…I want to rail on him for what an idiot he’s been…I want him to see my scarred face and my UGLY FUCKING WALKER and know how bad he tried to fuck up what I had. I swear…no drunk sonofabitch is going to take away what God has given me…no way. I will get better, and most of my scars will heal…I’m just so pissed off that I have to go through all of this because of someone else’s stupidity. And now I have to quit because my arms are aching from typing. Fucker.

Wow. And today, I'm down to one splint on the left arm. The swelling in my face and the scars have diminished so much. I can walk without that walker, and I have gained back a few pounds. So there has been definite progress!

Good Days!

Today was a good day. I looked in the mirror and realized, I look like me again! (with a straighter nose lol) The shadows under my eyes are getting better, the scars are fading more all the time, and the color is back in my cheeks. The fact that mom brought me a pair of size 3/4 jeans and they fit didn't bother me--we laughed at the prospect of cheering the day I can't button them because that means I'm at a healthy weight again. At 5'10" (5'11" with my new hip) a size 3/4 and 125 lbs is not good on my frame. lol Mom treated Kianna and I to a haircut and ice cream today...she always knows how to pick me up. I'm so thankful that my mom is also one of my best friends. So, a cute short haircut to even out the chunks of hair we cut out when it was a mass of knots and blood and glass...so all in all we must have cut around 8 inches? And it's cute! I'll have to put a before and after pic up here so we remember how far I've come. I'm sad I had to cut my long hair, but it's just hair and it grows fast. What a goof I am...but getting excited about the little things is what keeps me up.
I swept my floors today, and did dishes. I walked around Shopko and I'm just a little achier than usual...PJ and I made popcorn on the stove. Baby steps...

The good and the bad

I'm sitting here with my 3 year old daughter, who just said to me, "I love you mommy. And you're not going to die right?" And she hugs me and looks up at me with her huge greenblue eyes. What do I tell her? Lie, and say no mommy's never going to die? She already lost me for a month, so she knows I'm not impervious to injury or sickness...don't we all think at 3 years old that our parents are superheroes? So I just hug her tight and say mommy's right here next to you. How horrible that a 3-year-old girl has to worry about her mommy dying. It makes me so angry that my kids had the security of their mom always being here ripped away from them. Gabe wakes up crying almost every night, and half the time he climbs into our bed. He's afraid to sleep in his room by himself. He wasn't like this before the accident. He used to love going to preschool, and never worried about when mommy or daddy were picking him up. Now, every day he asks to stay home with mommy, and once he realizes that isn't happening, he begs daddy to "make it a short day ok daddy?" My poor babies...I wish I could keep them all hojme with me each day to make up for the month that I missed, but I am just not strong enough yet. I may have the physical injuries of the accident, but ALL of us were hurt here. My entire family was hurt by this accident. And I hope we can heal those emotional hurts as well as my bones are healing. Zack and PJ are just angry. Their grades have suffered, I noticed at Christmas break. Zack's teachers call me each week, wondering how we can get through to him. He was goofing off all the time anyway, and now he's not doing any work at all. He doesn't talk about it much either...even the threat of repeating 7th grade is not waking him up. I just keep thinking of Einstein and how he didn't make it past 8th grade...this kid is my Einstein. *sigh*
I miss cooking for my family...and picking them up or squeezing them tight...I miss my husband holding me like he wasn't afraid I would break. I baked cookies the other day...slow as hell and sore from the repetition of spooning the dough...silly things like that are difficult. But it was so great to watch the kids come home and devour those cookies while they goofed around and laughed...they make it worth it. They are the reason I'm still here...they are why I fought so hard to live!

I Flew with Angels

I think a lot on how I felt inside during those first few days, and then how my emotions came around as I got stronger...I was so unaware of what went on, with the huge amount of morphine I was given, I slept so much. But I remember feeling just this awful, screaming feeling...you've heard the saying "a scream like a tear in the fabric of the universe..." That's how I felt. Like there was this huge scream, and then my world was completely shattered...I was shattered. My body was so beaten up, I couldn't even think about anything but how I hurt sometimes. I just wanted it to be quiet, I wanted to sleep and not have anyone talk to me, but at the same time I didn't want to be alone. It was too scary to be alone. I just wanted to pretend it didn't happen. I slept so hard I'd forget why I was in the hospital when I woke up. That was weird. And while I slept, I know I dreamt of the accident. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, shaking and heart pounding...but I would never remember what I had dreamt about. It's probably better I don't. I still wake up like that sometimes...the first night I didn't dream of it was the first night I slept in my own bed, which was just about 3 weeks ago.
Once my pain was tapering off and I didn't need so much morphine, I had this...epiphany. I suddenly realized how very close I was to death. I remembered feeling surrounded by a warm, sunshiney light, surrounded by women angels that assured me I would be ok and I just knew they'd take care of me. I had been working so hard, Carl and I both, to get ahead...I was in nursing school, and working 3 days a week, and keeping the household running...I was in my element. Everything was so great, it all felt RIGHT. Like we were where we were supposed to be...and then the accident took all of that away, or tried to. I realized the odds I had come up against, and the fact that I survived, and am doing so well in spite of my injuries...I know God brought me back. It's like I can hear Him say to me, "you have so much to do yet. Go finish your work, it's too important to leave undone." THANK YOU LORD for that huge validation. I know I need to be here for my family, for my nursing career to care for patients and help people...that is my calling...and God knew it was important enough that he gave me a second chance. Amen to that, that's all I can say. Every time I pray, I see that sunshine, that horizon that I flew so quickly across on my way to the hospital...I'm surrounded by that comforting warmth that I know is the Lord holding me, filling me with His love and His peace...and I am so humbled. He kept me here, and He keeps me safe.
I had a warning come to me in a dream a few weeks before the accident. My sweet band director, G, who was killed in that horrible bus accident, came to me in a dream the morning he died. We were standing on a gray road, the light was gray, everything was foggy and confusing. It wasn't like an accident scene but just kind of...there, in between realms or something...G kept trying urgently to tell me something, and even though he was speaking English I just couldn't understand what he was trying to tell me...it was so complicated it was just beyond my comprehension. I remember thinking, what is wrong with me that I just can't get what he's saying?? Other people's faces kept popping into view and they'd try and tell me too...but I just couldn't get it, I was frustrated! G finally just said, "You just need to know that it's not too late for you, not like it is for us." And he gestured toward what looked like an empty bus seat, but somehow I knew his wife was there, and then he went to her. I woke up feeling like, why the hell would I dream about my band director when I haven't even seen him in like 5 years? And I laughed, shook it off, and started my day...and then mom called me and told me she had heard about the bus crash but they hadn't released names of victims yet...but I told her I knew it was G and his wife, and that I had dreamt about them. I didn't understand the dream until after my own accident...then it made sense. Somehow, G was trying to send me the message, that I was going to make it through my trauma, that I was going to be ok...and it was ok that he wasn't, because Terese was with him. This is what makes me hit my knees, broken hip and all, every day. God is there. He is listening. He cannot protect us from the consequences of free will, but He can, and does, give us the tools to deal with the atrocities of this world, in the form of his Grace, Love, Peace, and Forgiveness. There are angels out there. I've always believed it, but now, I'm living it.

F**k that hurt GD it

Memory of the nurses and docs working on me before surgery...I remember when they put in my chest tube. Dayum! I remember thinking oh man they didn't put it in the right place...and I said "fuck that hurt God D*mn it!" And one nurse said, "atta girl!," and laughed, and then said to someone "she's gonna be just fine, she's a fighter." I wanted to kick her ASS for laughing because that tube really hurt, but they were holding me still for the procedure in spite of my trying to kick with my one good leg and punch...til it hurt my arm and I stopped trying to move it. LOL I was right, they did have it in the wrong place, so they backed it up and did it again. DAYUMMMMMM!
I also remember being suctioned...that was so strange..I remember thinking as I'm coughing and my body's racked with spasms, trying to rid itself of the plastic tube in my lung, ack ack ack..."how ironic...I've seen this done so many times and thought wow it looks almost painful...and now it's being done to me..." didn't hurt, just really weird how I worked in a vent unit for 5 years and knew lungs inside and out, so to be on the other end of it with that knowledge gave me some sense of control in a time when I had very little. I remember when they took the vent tube out, and I was SO excited...I kept taking huge gulps of air, ON MY OWN! and it was the greatest feeling even though my ribs and shoulder hurt with each breath. I was so scared that night that I'd forget to breathe...and the nurses just laughed and said with all those monitors we have on you, we know what you're doing before YOU do! I hadn't even realized I had monitors on me...guess that morphine worked better than I thought. LOL

From the beginning...

I wish I had started a journal right after the accident...I guess the fact that I had 2 arm casts and too much pain to type may have limited that decision....
Yesterday I was reading the awesome journal my mom kept of my progress after the accident. It brought me back to the things I was feeling at those different times, and I feel like I need to do some catchup journaling of my own to remember.
I have no memory of the crash. I don't remember leaving the house that morning for work. Carl says it was one of our "cute" mornings...we were goofing on each other as I got ready for work, and I'm sure I kissed him and said an "I Love You" before heading out the door...wish I remembered that. I cherish every kiss, every glance, every minute I have with him now, because that kiss was almost our last. It gives me chills to see that in black and white. So my first memory of that day is when I regained consciousness soon (minutes?) after the crash, and I didn't even have full comprehension of where I was or what had happened...my lower body was held in my seat by the seatbelt but I had been thrown from the shoulder harness and my upper body was in between the 2 front seats, my head must have been on or close to the middle seat of the van and I must have landed on my backpack judging by the broken things in itwhen I got it back afterward...it was dark, cold and damp...I saw gray light sparkling on broken glass all around me, and I was gasping for breath. I didn't feel any pain somehow, but I knew I was very badly hurt, that something was wrong with my left lung and I shouldn't breathe too deeply, but I knew I needed to yell for help, to get someone to notice me. I couldn't remember what day it was, and whether or not the kids were in the car with me and I was so afraid that they were hurt too, or worse...it was so quiet. And then I lost consciousness again...or at least I lost memory. A deputy that was on the scene called me 2 weeks after the accident to see how I was doing. She said she was amazed at how alert and calm I was with so many injuries, but I don't remember any of that. A girl named Traci, the one who saved my life by calling the ambulance and holding my bloody hand until they came...I will never forget what she did for me and as soon as I get a better grip on things around here, I'm going to get in touch with her again. We've spoken a few times since I've been home but I don't want to lose contact with her.
My next memory is waking up in Luther Hospital's ER in a huge amount of pain. I hurt everywhere. My mom was leaning over me and Carl was there too...I was so out of it I couldn't reallly even talk to them or fully comprehend what they were saying to me...I just knew I hurt and I kept saying my babies are ok, my babies are ok...and then they were rushing me to surgery. I remember waking up later that night on the ventilator, in soo much pain, and seeing mom, right there by my side, as always. I asked her what happened...and she told me I had been in a car accident. I cried and nodded...and fell back asleep. I remember waking up and seeing Carl standing in the room, holding Natalia. She recognized me! I could tell by her eyes she recognized me through all of the bandages and tubes and cuts and bruises...I think this was the 2nd day...I cried and smiled and cried...I was trying to hold my arms out to her and couldn't because of the chemical restaint used to keep me from pulling out the vent tube...it was soooo wonderful to see my sweet baby girl even though I couldn't hold her...I remember the kids coming in and me trying to whisper I love yous...my sister, brother, dad, sooo many family members and friends stopping by and that part is such a blur. The first few days I only remember bits and pieces...