I bought a new truck last Thursday. Paid cash for it. I never thought I'd be able to do that in my life, and it felt good. It's a small reward for going through such an awful ordeal, but I knew that if I got nothing else out of this accident I wanted to get a bigger, safer vehicle to carry my babies in and I did. This truck would eat a Chevy Silverado for lunch, and I love it!! It's a Ford Expedition, silver with big ole tires and 8 roomy seats for all of my babies to ride in style. And guess where we're taking it this weekend? Mall of America baby, where we will let the kids spend some money foolishly because we can. Bills are paid, debt is down, and we are finally feeling like we will be ok.
Thank God.
Monday, August 28, 2006
it has to come out
something in me just needs to come out tonight, I need to write and write and write, and pour my heart out like I haven't done in so long...I've had so much hurt in my heart with all that's been going on that I haven't even been able to write about it, it just made it too real and the lump in my throat just wouldn't go away for days...
It's incredible that one person can feel so much hurt, so raw and open and pulsing, feeling like I would break open if someone looked into my eyes and searched what was there...it's hard for me most of the time to look right in someone's eyes these days...I feel like most people can't take what they see in my gaze, and I don't want them to. I can barely take it sometimes.
My biggest hurt right now is the new realization of how close I came to losing everything that is important to me....and I don't mean my LIFE, because I knew that I would keep that...that was God's promise to me when he sent me back here to my broken body, where I'd wake up and ask over and over what happened to me, all the while knowing full well that I had nearly stayed on the other side, and often wished I had, because the pain in that broken body was so great I could barely stand it. Most of the time, I just thought over and over about my wedding day, about the births of each of my children, about every beautiful Christmas and birthday and first words and bike rides and HUGS...LAUGHTER...all of the things that we all experience in life but don't realize how huge and important they are...I thought of all of them, and they kept me strong. They helped me get well, they gave me courage in a time when I felt like a slight breeze would make my heart stop or cause my chest to cave...my babies kept me strong, my love for my husband kept me strong, my amazing family and friends that I knew were praying for me...you all kept me here, in your presence, and for that I will always be thankful.
I think it's also because of that love for my husband, my need to stay here and raise our children together, I couldn't stand the thought of leaving him behind because of my selfish desire to stay in the beautiful place I visited while my body was so torn and battered...and that's why God brought me back, my angels carried me and told me to be strong, to breathe deep and heal, to dig in and work hard to get better so I could get home to my family and do the work God had here for me...and I am. I do it every day, and I know I belong here...for now. So, when Carl was so horrible to me, when his words were weapons and he used them to spear me and cut my beautiful soul (because it IS beautiful, we are all beautiful inside you know) I started to feel so much anger...I felt like he was murdering me, that I was dying inside even as my outside ceased to show the signs of my horrible battle to survive....and I can't ever make him understand that, and I don't ever want to try, because if he knew how badly he cut me in his struggle to deal with all that was on his shoulders during this awful time, he would never forgive himself. And I'm ok...I'm the strong one, I'm the one who will hold his hand and help him make sense of all this...I've known forever that this is my job in our marriage, to walk hand in hand with him and bring him to know himself and God better...so I forgive him...and I love him more every day, as I watch him learn more about himself, and open up to me in ways he's never opened to anyone...and loving him more as he tells me how he's understanding how amazing I am, and he understands my purpose here and is learning his own strengths...and I know it's worth it. I know we're on the right path, I know the strength we have now will not be shaken...and the hurts will be washed away, and the glue that bonds us will be unbreakable. So now I can finally cry over all the horrible words that were said, and the anger is gone, and the tears wash away the pain and forgiveness takes the place of fear and hurt. Thank God for this understanding, thank God for always having His hand on our hearts and bringing us through...I thought I was a strong person before...but now, I have no fear. I know I can do anything, because God is here, in my heart, and He keeps me safe.
It's incredible that one person can feel so much hurt, so raw and open and pulsing, feeling like I would break open if someone looked into my eyes and searched what was there...it's hard for me most of the time to look right in someone's eyes these days...I feel like most people can't take what they see in my gaze, and I don't want them to. I can barely take it sometimes.
My biggest hurt right now is the new realization of how close I came to losing everything that is important to me....and I don't mean my LIFE, because I knew that I would keep that...that was God's promise to me when he sent me back here to my broken body, where I'd wake up and ask over and over what happened to me, all the while knowing full well that I had nearly stayed on the other side, and often wished I had, because the pain in that broken body was so great I could barely stand it. Most of the time, I just thought over and over about my wedding day, about the births of each of my children, about every beautiful Christmas and birthday and first words and bike rides and HUGS...LAUGHTER...all of the things that we all experience in life but don't realize how huge and important they are...I thought of all of them, and they kept me strong. They helped me get well, they gave me courage in a time when I felt like a slight breeze would make my heart stop or cause my chest to cave...my babies kept me strong, my love for my husband kept me strong, my amazing family and friends that I knew were praying for me...you all kept me here, in your presence, and for that I will always be thankful.
I think it's also because of that love for my husband, my need to stay here and raise our children together, I couldn't stand the thought of leaving him behind because of my selfish desire to stay in the beautiful place I visited while my body was so torn and battered...and that's why God brought me back, my angels carried me and told me to be strong, to breathe deep and heal, to dig in and work hard to get better so I could get home to my family and do the work God had here for me...and I am. I do it every day, and I know I belong here...for now. So, when Carl was so horrible to me, when his words were weapons and he used them to spear me and cut my beautiful soul (because it IS beautiful, we are all beautiful inside you know) I started to feel so much anger...I felt like he was murdering me, that I was dying inside even as my outside ceased to show the signs of my horrible battle to survive....and I can't ever make him understand that, and I don't ever want to try, because if he knew how badly he cut me in his struggle to deal with all that was on his shoulders during this awful time, he would never forgive himself. And I'm ok...I'm the strong one, I'm the one who will hold his hand and help him make sense of all this...I've known forever that this is my job in our marriage, to walk hand in hand with him and bring him to know himself and God better...so I forgive him...and I love him more every day, as I watch him learn more about himself, and open up to me in ways he's never opened to anyone...and loving him more as he tells me how he's understanding how amazing I am, and he understands my purpose here and is learning his own strengths...and I know it's worth it. I know we're on the right path, I know the strength we have now will not be shaken...and the hurts will be washed away, and the glue that bonds us will be unbreakable. So now I can finally cry over all the horrible words that were said, and the anger is gone, and the tears wash away the pain and forgiveness takes the place of fear and hurt. Thank God for this understanding, thank God for always having His hand on our hearts and bringing us through...I thought I was a strong person before...but now, I have no fear. I know I can do anything, because God is here, in my heart, and He keeps me safe.
Too Long
It's been too damn long since I posted in here...so much has happened over the last few months, so many things that have broken my heart and made me feel as though every step forward made me fall backward into a pit of muck. I hate that feeling.
School ended well, my GPA didn't suffer in spite of all the changes that had been going on around me. It's so funny to read these earlier posts, at a time when I was still so fragile in my world that I couldn't comprehend everything around me at once, I had to digest it in stages, like a 7 course meal that takes hours to finish.
I started taking anti-anxiety meds in April, after Carl having to slam on the brakes to avoid a fender bender and I blacked out...and my heart rate didn't return to normal for 4 days, causing me to take a trip to ER where they drugged me with Zanax and sent me home, to meet with my doctor later in the week. Now I'm on Celexa, and it helps me relax and has decreased my anxiety so much, I feel normal again.
Not long after my freak-out, Carl had a breakdown of his own. He's been steadily drinking more and more...never getting obnoxiously drunk or fall-down, piss-pants drunk, just having 5 or 6 beers a night, which is not something he's ever done before. I didn't say anything about it, i knew he was trying to cope and we've gone through this before, he hits bottom and realizes he's drinking too much, and he stops. I don't need to nag at him, he'll figure it out. Not this time. this time, he got mean. Not physical, but verbally abusive... After the first time, I had a long talk with him about needing to see the doc about antidepressants and going to counselling...it helped me so much to talk to someone else about all that was going on with me. He was all apologetic, promising to never get that way with me again, and I believed him. The second time, he came home from a night out with the boys absolutely drunk and mad as hell...he yelled and screamed and swore at me until I locked myself in my room and called his brother and best friend to come get him. When they got there, he was finally calm, but got all bent out of shape again and almost ended up fighting with his brother...I have never seen him like that before, so full of rage and hatred that he would swear at his wife and threaten his brother. I was so mad at him...but at the same time, I felt so sorry for him, I knew that he was struggling so much and trying so hard to find a way to deal with everything surrounding the car accident. We had a long talk, one of those conversations that continued for days, him promising to never treat me that way again, and me forgiving him and talking to my doc about his need for antidepressants, and if he had another outburst like that, he would have to go live somewhere else until he got help managing his anger. he agreed. Things were better for a while, and then 4th of July weekend, he was drinking at our family get-together and tripped and hurt himself in the dark...which the rest of us found hilarious until we realized he had been hurt, then we felt bad...but too late, he was furious and I was a f*cking bitch and a c*nt, and my family was shit and he punched my step dad's nephew in the face for taking a picture of him when he fell...it was so out of control and so totally out of character for him, I felt like I didn't even know him. He ended up leaving that night, driving home alone and calling my cell and leaving angry messages during the night...I stayed at mom's and the kids and I had fun...although I kept thinking about him and wondering what would happen next...but I had made up my mind...either he would get help, or he would be moving out. I divorced my first husband for the exact same behaviors my wonderful, dedicated 2nd husband was displaying...and it ripped my heart out. I would not put my family through that pain again. I got home from mom's at 9:30 the next night, and I tucked the kids into bed and just talked a little with Carl...I was still too hurt to be able to voice my full feelings and concerns, and I knew if I spoke before I had a handle on my emotions that our marriage would be over. The next day, we were able to talk, Carl was so sincerely sorry and would do anything to save our marriage but understood completely if I would want him to leave...I was so torn, I had told him if he did that one more time I would make him leave...and I really wanted him to leave...but I also knew I was not the source of his anger, I was just his target...so, he had a choice--go to counseling, go on antidepressants, stop drinking--or go find somewhere else to live. He's been on antidepressants since July, they have done wonders and he has been talking a lot to my doctor who is probably better than most counselors in the area. So we're ok. I think. Sometimes I'm so angry at him for treating me to poorly, after all we've been through. I had my moments too, i was hard on him and lashed out at him angrily and I made my counseling appointments and got help...I think that's why I was so mad, I saw my needs and took care of them...it took him almost losing me because of his stupid temper and insecurity, and all this after nearly losing me to a senseless car accident. Makes my blood boil. So now, we're better friends than we've ever been, more honest and appreciative of each other and talking things out before they get to be too much. So far, so good. The man I married and the sweet, sensitive person I knew was deep down inside there finally started to surface again. I think it's been scary to Carl that I have changed so much...in a good way, but it must be unnerving to him to see his wife changed like I have. I have such a deep understanding of why things work the way they do, and I live as if I don't have any time to waste...because I don't. I know that, and I think it's to scary and real for him to be able to deal with sometimes. I think he always knew he married a strong woman, but now he sometimes looks at me in awe, like I'm made of steel...but I know I'm made of stronger things than that. ;-)
School ended well, my GPA didn't suffer in spite of all the changes that had been going on around me. It's so funny to read these earlier posts, at a time when I was still so fragile in my world that I couldn't comprehend everything around me at once, I had to digest it in stages, like a 7 course meal that takes hours to finish.
I started taking anti-anxiety meds in April, after Carl having to slam on the brakes to avoid a fender bender and I blacked out...and my heart rate didn't return to normal for 4 days, causing me to take a trip to ER where they drugged me with Zanax and sent me home, to meet with my doctor later in the week. Now I'm on Celexa, and it helps me relax and has decreased my anxiety so much, I feel normal again.
Not long after my freak-out, Carl had a breakdown of his own. He's been steadily drinking more and more...never getting obnoxiously drunk or fall-down, piss-pants drunk, just having 5 or 6 beers a night, which is not something he's ever done before. I didn't say anything about it, i knew he was trying to cope and we've gone through this before, he hits bottom and realizes he's drinking too much, and he stops. I don't need to nag at him, he'll figure it out. Not this time. this time, he got mean. Not physical, but verbally abusive... After the first time, I had a long talk with him about needing to see the doc about antidepressants and going to counselling...it helped me so much to talk to someone else about all that was going on with me. He was all apologetic, promising to never get that way with me again, and I believed him. The second time, he came home from a night out with the boys absolutely drunk and mad as hell...he yelled and screamed and swore at me until I locked myself in my room and called his brother and best friend to come get him. When they got there, he was finally calm, but got all bent out of shape again and almost ended up fighting with his brother...I have never seen him like that before, so full of rage and hatred that he would swear at his wife and threaten his brother. I was so mad at him...but at the same time, I felt so sorry for him, I knew that he was struggling so much and trying so hard to find a way to deal with everything surrounding the car accident. We had a long talk, one of those conversations that continued for days, him promising to never treat me that way again, and me forgiving him and talking to my doc about his need for antidepressants, and if he had another outburst like that, he would have to go live somewhere else until he got help managing his anger. he agreed. Things were better for a while, and then 4th of July weekend, he was drinking at our family get-together and tripped and hurt himself in the dark...which the rest of us found hilarious until we realized he had been hurt, then we felt bad...but too late, he was furious and I was a f*cking bitch and a c*nt, and my family was shit and he punched my step dad's nephew in the face for taking a picture of him when he fell...it was so out of control and so totally out of character for him, I felt like I didn't even know him. He ended up leaving that night, driving home alone and calling my cell and leaving angry messages during the night...I stayed at mom's and the kids and I had fun...although I kept thinking about him and wondering what would happen next...but I had made up my mind...either he would get help, or he would be moving out. I divorced my first husband for the exact same behaviors my wonderful, dedicated 2nd husband was displaying...and it ripped my heart out. I would not put my family through that pain again. I got home from mom's at 9:30 the next night, and I tucked the kids into bed and just talked a little with Carl...I was still too hurt to be able to voice my full feelings and concerns, and I knew if I spoke before I had a handle on my emotions that our marriage would be over. The next day, we were able to talk, Carl was so sincerely sorry and would do anything to save our marriage but understood completely if I would want him to leave...I was so torn, I had told him if he did that one more time I would make him leave...and I really wanted him to leave...but I also knew I was not the source of his anger, I was just his target...so, he had a choice--go to counseling, go on antidepressants, stop drinking--or go find somewhere else to live. He's been on antidepressants since July, they have done wonders and he has been talking a lot to my doctor who is probably better than most counselors in the area. So we're ok. I think. Sometimes I'm so angry at him for treating me to poorly, after all we've been through. I had my moments too, i was hard on him and lashed out at him angrily and I made my counseling appointments and got help...I think that's why I was so mad, I saw my needs and took care of them...it took him almost losing me because of his stupid temper and insecurity, and all this after nearly losing me to a senseless car accident. Makes my blood boil. So now, we're better friends than we've ever been, more honest and appreciative of each other and talking things out before they get to be too much. So far, so good. The man I married and the sweet, sensitive person I knew was deep down inside there finally started to surface again. I think it's been scary to Carl that I have changed so much...in a good way, but it must be unnerving to him to see his wife changed like I have. I have such a deep understanding of why things work the way they do, and I live as if I don't have any time to waste...because I don't. I know that, and I think it's to scary and real for him to be able to deal with sometimes. I think he always knew he married a strong woman, but now he sometimes looks at me in awe, like I'm made of steel...but I know I'm made of stronger things than that. ;-)
Monday, May 22, 2006
Tomorrow
Court is tomorrow. I'm nervous about it...soooo nervous. I'm so afraid that I'll have to testify...and more afraid that when I do, this guy still won't have the faintest understanding of the trials my family and I have been through since this accident. I still hurt everyday...I still cry almost every night because of the frustration and pain I have. My hands hurt me constantly. Since returning to full duty, I am having tingling in my hands at feet at the end of the day, an electric shock kind of feeling running down my right leg. I have to go see a physiatrist about that, and also a plastic surgeon for the scars on my face. Everyone is so nice and says they don't even notice them...but I notice them. I see how my lips don't close evenly over my teeth, and how my left eyelid droops and left eyebrow sits higher on my face than the right. I don't think I should be left with these scars, with half my face looking so different from the other...I know I should be grateful that these scars are as minimal as they are...and I am. But I don't want to look in the mirror every day and be reminded, I don't want to wonder if every person I talk to is looking at my scars and wondering what happened to me, or judging me because of how my face looks. It's bad enough I have a huge scar from my sternum to the top of my pubic bone, and a 5 inch scar down my left leg from my hip surgery, and the scar on my right wrist that caused someone in my class to ask if I had attempted suicide. Nice. My left hand is kind of odd-looking, with the "road rash" look and the odd movement of my fingers from the fractures. I still worry that I won't have full function of that hand...I guess I fake it good enough because the doctors were eager to release me from their care. I guess I don't complain enough? I had 2 appointments with 2 different doctors, and neither of them asked me about my pain. I guess I'm so used to the pain now that it's not foremost in my mind...
Monday, April 24, 2006
What now?
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.
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.
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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