Here are my concerns this week. I have this nagging visual disturbance. It's like poking a few holes through a piece of paper and holding it up to the sun...those spots are in my left field of vision occasionally. sometimes they're white, sometimes they're silver, sometimes they're dark and look almost like a cloud of gnats sitting there in front of me. I think I should see a neurologist.
My depth perception is off. I hit my head on things because that skin that would sense an object moving near, is numb. then, the bumping makes it more numb. My lips and chin are really numb again this week too, that had been better. Even my eyelid and nose are numb lately. I feel a ridge in my eye socket that feels like it might have been broken. I have to remember to ask the doc to show me my records so I can see if that's true or if it's just scarred connective tissue under there.
My hip hurts so badly lately. I made the mistake of holding Gabe in church for 10 minutes on Sunday...and I've been limping ever since. I am so frustrated with this limitation that I can't do anything for but wait. I am not very patient anymore.
I'm crabby lately. I feel like Carl has gotten tired of helping with the kids, and now that I can almost do it all, he's just assuming I WANT to do it all. As great as it is to be doing well, I can't do this all on my own. I know he's gotten burnt out, as he had to do most everything around here for 3 1/2 months, but the truth is...it makes me sad that it took a debilitating accident to make me feel like we were working more as partners than ever before. We took turns bathing the kids and getting them to bed. We both did household chores, he had to do all the driving and errand-running, he took the kids to and from daycare...so I know he's tired...but now i feel like I'm not able to take as much pleasure out of raising my kids, because I feel like I'm raising them alone a lot of the time. He just hangs his head when I try and talk to him about it...and I know how he feels. It's hard work, setting the example and teaching and loving your kids into obedience, and being there for them always. but that's what we signed up for. That's what we do. And I need him to do it with me.
Monday, April 24, 2006
New Battles
Today, I'm tired. I am so glad things are getting so normal again that I can have a day where I crab at my husband for not doing something I asked him to...or 3 or 4 days where he didn't do what I asked him to...when I can be frustrated with the dishes undone and the reading assignments I put off to tuck in my babies. I can tuck in my babies. And I have a husband to yip at who puts up with me, and I, with him.
I've had a few memories come back to me recently. I think I already wrote about the memory of the walk across the yard out to the van the morning of the accident, or maybe I've just talked about it with my mom and sister, I'm not sure...
It was still dark out, a little breeze was blowing through the trees...and suddenly, I felt this overwhelming urge to run, to jump into that van, as if something was waiting for me in the dark...that paralyzing fear that we've all had as a child, but that we reason away as we get older...I laughed at myself as I closed the van door. I don't get spooked! What was that? This is a safe place, my home. What am I afraid of? Another discordant fragment of the feeling of impending doom that Carl and I felt over our heads for months before this day. I've learned that my gut instinct does not lead me astray. Those little nods of conscience that let us in on the unspeakable from time to time. Don't ignore them. Those are your angels speaking to you...and yes, sometimes the things they whisper are frightening...but not hearing their warning is even scarier, even life-threatening. They are there to protect you, to guide us all, and to bring us love and comfort when this shitty place called earth leaves us bitter and alone.
I'm bitter today, I'm angry. I don't give in to that emotion very often as it just doesn't do me any good...it's not going to make my hands stop throbbing, it's not going to make my leg behave the way I want it to, it's not going to erase the scars and the limp I have when it rains...no, it's not a myth after all...but I do think that I have to allow myself to deal with the anger as well as seeing the silver lining in this enormous cloud, because it's all part of what happened, it's all part of me and my life now. "God grant me the serenity..." Another thing I've learned is that we are closer to the spiritual world than we think. It's right here, they are always around. Our loved ones don't leave us for long, they watch over us and keep watch while we are unaware of things to come. We go through our days, self-important and self-accommodating...and they watch us. Our guardians watch us with knowing eyes, wishing we could know and see the things they know and see, but also understanding the danger that knowledge can bring. We are all such silly people...this world would be such a better place if we could all peek through that window now and then...
Mom, this next memory may be too graphic for you to read, you don't need to put yourself through this because I know that this is probably a part of my accident that you don't need to know, that it will make it all too real to you when already this is so real you and I both, we wish we could close the book. But the book will be written, the story will be told...just know that this next little blurb is pretty gory and maybe tell Rog to read it before you do? LOL Ok I know, I'm trying to protect you...thinking of boxing and gory movie scenes and mom leaving the room because her empathetic soul feels everyone's pain as her own...
Another memory came to me not long ago...it's one that drives me crazy because I don't remember any of the events around it, it's like a snapshot in my head of the accident, and I can't make sense of it all because I don't remember it all...I'm too logical of a person to accept that, so I think on it, and think on it, and think...but at the same time, I'm afraid that I WILL remember, that it will come back to me and I'll be haunted by that as well. I don't remember the moments just before the crash, I just have what I call an "impression..." an emotion...I remember feeling the urgency to stop, doing everything in my power to stop that van, pressing that brake to the floor, gripping that steering wheel, willing it to stop with every fiber of my being...and angry and helpless because I knew it was too late for me to do anything to change what was about to happen. I remember thinking, just before hearing that horrible crunch and twist of metal, and my scream, "this is not going to come out good. God be with me..." And isn't it funny that I had time to think that, and to feel what I felt...and yet, I have no picture in my mind, no visual memory of what happened at that time. My next visual memory is of Lucas's pale face and light hair, his front seat, his bracing himself against the driver's side door just before we collided...my eyes locked with his, eyes the size of saucers, staring into mine as I thought "I'm going to end up in his front seat" as my van slid sideways into his truck, my door colliding with his and I felt like I was spinning, like a ragdoll tossed out my window, my arms being thrown away from my control and out the window as it smashed and that must be when I hit my head and lost consciousness...that must be when my arms were broken and my hand was so badly cut. I felt like I was spinning on a fast, horrible merry-go-round. Someone said to me not long ago, "so, did your van just kill out after the crash, or was it still running?" And I replied, "well, I guess it stopped running about the same time the tranny and radiator smashed into the passenger seat. Probably then." ? Yeah, for real. LMAO It's just too much reality for many people to ponder...it was for me, before it happened to me. You hear of this kind of thing all the time...but you can't imagine the cold horror of it, the careening out of control and the sounds and smells, the frantic shouts of rescuers, the emergent tone to their voices, the cold blood dripping into your eyes, the damp wind blowing through the broken windows and making you shiver but you can't move to pull your jacket tighter...you just can't voluntarily be a part of that, you can't put yourself in that place. It's too awful. Even as I write this, I feel bad for making others read of something that is too harsh and real. "warning--objects in new post are as graphic as they appear"
I remember the EMTs or firefighters, whoever runs the jaws of life...I remember them telling me they were going to cut into the van to get me out...I couldn't move, I was afraid to move...maybe I could have moved my arms if I wanted but I felt as though they were pinned to my sides and crossed over my chest...I don't know if that's how I was positioned or not, I felt like I was floating. I remember hearing that saw cut into the van, and a window shattered and I screamed so loud! I heard the glass fall all around me, and men working and telling me it was ok, they were going to get me out...they sounded so intent on their job, working as fast as they could to reach me...and I took comfort in that. I moved my feet and heard glass crunch under my shoes...and then I didn't try and move them anymore. I remember trying so hard to remember my phone number, and saying the numbers so slowly to Traci...I couldn't do it! And the numbers finally came, and I was so relieved. I'm going to be ok. Carl will know where I am. The kids are safe with him. I'm ok, I'm ok, my babies are ok...in and out of consciousness I went.
I drove home from Menomonie after work a week ago, and I decided to drive past the intersection where my life changed. I had only been on that road one time since the accident, and I had a panic attack, Carl nearly pulled over. Well, we all know how well I deal with something having power over me like that, so I had to deal with it. I drove through that intersection, I saw the place where my van sat teetering on the embankment, and I marvelled at the fact that I'm here and doing so well 5 1/2 months later. What a miracle. That's the only way I can explain it. I saw the grouping of deep green pine trees that I flew over the top of, as my angels whooshed me to the hospital to meet my body as it came in the ambulance. I remember the chest tube and swearing and fighting at the pain, I remember my mom, and I told her and Carl I'd be ok, my babies were ok, I was ok...
I've had a few memories come back to me recently. I think I already wrote about the memory of the walk across the yard out to the van the morning of the accident, or maybe I've just talked about it with my mom and sister, I'm not sure...
It was still dark out, a little breeze was blowing through the trees...and suddenly, I felt this overwhelming urge to run, to jump into that van, as if something was waiting for me in the dark...that paralyzing fear that we've all had as a child, but that we reason away as we get older...I laughed at myself as I closed the van door. I don't get spooked! What was that? This is a safe place, my home. What am I afraid of? Another discordant fragment of the feeling of impending doom that Carl and I felt over our heads for months before this day. I've learned that my gut instinct does not lead me astray. Those little nods of conscience that let us in on the unspeakable from time to time. Don't ignore them. Those are your angels speaking to you...and yes, sometimes the things they whisper are frightening...but not hearing their warning is even scarier, even life-threatening. They are there to protect you, to guide us all, and to bring us love and comfort when this shitty place called earth leaves us bitter and alone.
I'm bitter today, I'm angry. I don't give in to that emotion very often as it just doesn't do me any good...it's not going to make my hands stop throbbing, it's not going to make my leg behave the way I want it to, it's not going to erase the scars and the limp I have when it rains...no, it's not a myth after all...but I do think that I have to allow myself to deal with the anger as well as seeing the silver lining in this enormous cloud, because it's all part of what happened, it's all part of me and my life now. "God grant me the serenity..." Another thing I've learned is that we are closer to the spiritual world than we think. It's right here, they are always around. Our loved ones don't leave us for long, they watch over us and keep watch while we are unaware of things to come. We go through our days, self-important and self-accommodating...and they watch us. Our guardians watch us with knowing eyes, wishing we could know and see the things they know and see, but also understanding the danger that knowledge can bring. We are all such silly people...this world would be such a better place if we could all peek through that window now and then...
Mom, this next memory may be too graphic for you to read, you don't need to put yourself through this because I know that this is probably a part of my accident that you don't need to know, that it will make it all too real to you when already this is so real you and I both, we wish we could close the book. But the book will be written, the story will be told...just know that this next little blurb is pretty gory and maybe tell Rog to read it before you do? LOL Ok I know, I'm trying to protect you...thinking of boxing and gory movie scenes and mom leaving the room because her empathetic soul feels everyone's pain as her own...
Another memory came to me not long ago...it's one that drives me crazy because I don't remember any of the events around it, it's like a snapshot in my head of the accident, and I can't make sense of it all because I don't remember it all...I'm too logical of a person to accept that, so I think on it, and think on it, and think...but at the same time, I'm afraid that I WILL remember, that it will come back to me and I'll be haunted by that as well. I don't remember the moments just before the crash, I just have what I call an "impression..." an emotion...I remember feeling the urgency to stop, doing everything in my power to stop that van, pressing that brake to the floor, gripping that steering wheel, willing it to stop with every fiber of my being...and angry and helpless because I knew it was too late for me to do anything to change what was about to happen. I remember thinking, just before hearing that horrible crunch and twist of metal, and my scream, "this is not going to come out good. God be with me..." And isn't it funny that I had time to think that, and to feel what I felt...and yet, I have no picture in my mind, no visual memory of what happened at that time. My next visual memory is of Lucas's pale face and light hair, his front seat, his bracing himself against the driver's side door just before we collided...my eyes locked with his, eyes the size of saucers, staring into mine as I thought "I'm going to end up in his front seat" as my van slid sideways into his truck, my door colliding with his and I felt like I was spinning, like a ragdoll tossed out my window, my arms being thrown away from my control and out the window as it smashed and that must be when I hit my head and lost consciousness...that must be when my arms were broken and my hand was so badly cut. I felt like I was spinning on a fast, horrible merry-go-round. Someone said to me not long ago, "so, did your van just kill out after the crash, or was it still running?" And I replied, "well, I guess it stopped running about the same time the tranny and radiator smashed into the passenger seat. Probably then." ? Yeah, for real. LMAO It's just too much reality for many people to ponder...it was for me, before it happened to me. You hear of this kind of thing all the time...but you can't imagine the cold horror of it, the careening out of control and the sounds and smells, the frantic shouts of rescuers, the emergent tone to their voices, the cold blood dripping into your eyes, the damp wind blowing through the broken windows and making you shiver but you can't move to pull your jacket tighter...you just can't voluntarily be a part of that, you can't put yourself in that place. It's too awful. Even as I write this, I feel bad for making others read of something that is too harsh and real. "warning--objects in new post are as graphic as they appear"
I remember the EMTs or firefighters, whoever runs the jaws of life...I remember them telling me they were going to cut into the van to get me out...I couldn't move, I was afraid to move...maybe I could have moved my arms if I wanted but I felt as though they were pinned to my sides and crossed over my chest...I don't know if that's how I was positioned or not, I felt like I was floating. I remember hearing that saw cut into the van, and a window shattered and I screamed so loud! I heard the glass fall all around me, and men working and telling me it was ok, they were going to get me out...they sounded so intent on their job, working as fast as they could to reach me...and I took comfort in that. I moved my feet and heard glass crunch under my shoes...and then I didn't try and move them anymore. I remember trying so hard to remember my phone number, and saying the numbers so slowly to Traci...I couldn't do it! And the numbers finally came, and I was so relieved. I'm going to be ok. Carl will know where I am. The kids are safe with him. I'm ok, I'm ok, my babies are ok...in and out of consciousness I went.
I drove home from Menomonie after work a week ago, and I decided to drive past the intersection where my life changed. I had only been on that road one time since the accident, and I had a panic attack, Carl nearly pulled over. Well, we all know how well I deal with something having power over me like that, so I had to deal with it. I drove through that intersection, I saw the place where my van sat teetering on the embankment, and I marvelled at the fact that I'm here and doing so well 5 1/2 months later. What a miracle. That's the only way I can explain it. I saw the grouping of deep green pine trees that I flew over the top of, as my angels whooshed me to the hospital to meet my body as it came in the ambulance. I remember the chest tube and swearing and fighting at the pain, I remember my mom, and I told her and Carl I'd be ok, my babies were ok, I was ok...
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
It's Been Too Long!!
Has it really been this long since I posted?? I guess school and work keep me busier than I thought. Yes, I'm back to school. Yes, it's going beautifully. Maintaining A's in my classes, and enjoying it even more than last semester. It feels so good to be part of society again, and I'm feeling less and less like...the leftover part of a horrible scream. That's how I've felt. I know it sounds strange to think of it like that, but I felt like the raw, throat-burning, headachy part of a huge scream....like I would fall apart if anyone blew on me or touched me, like vital parts of me were missing and I was just holding on to a thread of who I was...and now I feel like me again. There are some differences...people who didn't know me before could probably never pick them up...but I notice, because it's me. I am flightier. I am easily distracted, and have to concentrate more. The docs say that may get better with time, they are confident that it will as "90% of people say within a year it disappears." Or, this may be something I have to live with. Good thing I'm a good list-maker. A good thing about my "different"...I appreciate my kids and family even more. I wouldn't be caught with a schoolbook in my hand if my kids are home or awake. I'm with the kids. I'm playing. We're raking leaves, going for walks, playing games, watching movies together, talking, doing homework--theirs, not mine--I'm enjoying my marriage even more...I knew Carl was wonderful and appreciated him a lot before this...but now, I absolutely cherish him. We've come through one of the worst things a person can imagine, and we're stronger for it. Our family is stronger, our love is stronger, our appreciation for life is stronger. My faith is definitely changed, it is absolutely unshakable. I thought it was sturdy before, but now, I have no doubts that I am on the right path. I am so grateful...God took my by the hand and pulled me and my family through this, there's no question.
Work is wonderful. I'm back at my old stomping grounds, Luther Hospital. I miss Menomonie but love caring for the acute patients that dialyze at Luther, and the staff is fun...they all seem so glad to have me back, and are showing me the ropes as it's been a long time since I worked there. I think I'll get the hang of it. My first day back at work, one of my patients said, "you've still got your old touch, I didn't feel a thing," after I put his needles in. I could have cried. Slowly, I'm weaving my life blanket again, and this time, it has some beautiful colors and threads that I never noticed before...but they've always been there. I just didn't have the opportunity to see them...kind of like, I didn't see the forest for the trees. Life is now. It is beautiful. And I am loving every minute of it, not wasting a second.
Work is wonderful. I'm back at my old stomping grounds, Luther Hospital. I miss Menomonie but love caring for the acute patients that dialyze at Luther, and the staff is fun...they all seem so glad to have me back, and are showing me the ropes as it's been a long time since I worked there. I think I'll get the hang of it. My first day back at work, one of my patients said, "you've still got your old touch, I didn't feel a thing," after I put his needles in. I could have cried. Slowly, I'm weaving my life blanket again, and this time, it has some beautiful colors and threads that I never noticed before...but they've always been there. I just didn't have the opportunity to see them...kind of like, I didn't see the forest for the trees. Life is now. It is beautiful. And I am loving every minute of it, not wasting a second.
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