Category: Thriving

🦋On this 3rd day of March in 2016, on a rainy cool day much like today, memories of a very trying time bubbled to the forefront of my mind. I was involved in a major carcrash that upheaved everything. After a particularly difficult day at work, in an attempt to be optimistic I said to a friend, “Today is the foundation of my tomorrow”. Little did I know how much that foundation would soon be rocked to the core.
A few hours later after a lovely dinner with friends, I was driving on a dark narrow winding and slick country road heading home. In order to avoid a huge buck that ran directly towards the headlights, I slammed on the brakes subsequently sliding and slamming with inertia into a goliath redwood. The car’s front end crushed like an aluminum can as glass exploded all around me. The car was precariously close to slipping into the stream below that ran along the road. The engine broke through the firewall on the passenger side. Thank goodness no one was in the car as they may have likely lost limbs. Trying to move it became very obvious I’d lost the use of my right leg. It was bent perpendicularly to my torso in a Gumby-like fashion under my left leg. I recall thinking: hmm, that’s not right. I tried to uncross my legs to no avail. Then I realized I couldn’t move my left wrist. I could see bone and blood mixed up with broken pieces of pebbly blue safety glass. There was glass everywhere….my hair, my mouth, the dashboard, the seats; my eyelashes which created a twinkly yet, painful effect. Windows were blown out and the chilly air rushed into the cabin. Smoke wafted from the front of the car and the constant sound of the whining, whirring engine roared as she was sputtering towards her end. I recall along with that a solid horn blared creating an audio nightmare in cacophony. I had been thrown sideways inside the car and although couldn’t move was thankfully within arm’s reach of my cell figuring oh, thank God I can call for help. Or, so I thought. Alas, no service.
All other sound was muffled yet I could feel my jaw chattering and heard my own voice saying “no no no no no” over and over like an oddly soothing mantra. Then, distinctly, I heard my deceased father’s voice first ask if I wanted to go; I responded with a resounding emphatic: “NO! I’m not leaving!!!” Then, my dad calmly replied: “We knew you’d make the right choice, pussycat”. As time went on, his voice periodically said, “Hang on, pussycat. You’re doing fine. I’m right here and won’t leave you. None of us will. We love you and need you to carry on”.
Time was warped. It was so odd; it simultaneously felt as if it was running at both warp and slow motion speed. I wasn’t scared. At all. Calm, in fact. Until I saw the look on people’s faces. Rut-roh. This must be pretty bad.
It was. I dislocated and broke my right hip, my left wrist and arm, the ignition key jammed into my knee snapping in half leaving part of it embedded in my knee that would have to be surgically removed. Incurring other fractures, contusions, a concussion and an emotional upheaval beyond words. As I was ushered into the ambulance strapped to a board the arduous journey was just beginning.
Hospitalized followed by a stint in a rehab center of epically atrocious conditions that closely resembled a snake pit, I wondered if I would ever walk again. Living in a fog for months, I ruminated if I’d ever be the same. It nearly consumed me. One movement in any direction was excruciating.
They plied me full of drugs but I refused the Norco after only a few days. The pain was beyond words. I wanted to just give up. F&k that, I thought one day, I WILL heal. For what seemed like eternity, nearly a year in fact, I toggled from a wheelchair to a walker to a cane then, finally “Look, Ma! I can walk!!”. Well, kind of. At one point, I could even dance (more of a toddler-like hobble to music) at a local tavern under blue skies to a local band with friends at one of my favorite places on earth brought tears of joy. A particularly healing place for me, it made my heart soar. Continuing on the healing journey, I had to depend on people for everything. At times, I could be rather prickly, to put it very mildly. I was not the most patient patient. That was actually the hardest pill to swallow. What a snarky little thing I could be. A major pain and felt like such a burden; it was so frustrating. Ugh. However, never EVER did I not recognize and ever-so-deeply appreciate all the support that was offered to me. I learned that I can be, well, a little controlling. Still working on that…..um, yeah😉. I do know that by letting go, there is a certain freedom that ensues. One can hold more in an open palm than a clenched fist. What a journey. With moxie, determination, some amazingly loving and verrrrry patient friends, a lot of work (though at times broken into a million pieces and wondering wtf why keep trying), astrong Nordic Celt countenance pushed me through it all. Not only can I now walk, I can dance! I don’t even give a sht if anyone is with me. Although, that IS more fun. 😉
It took almost a full year to be able to walk and to this day I still experience repercussions and am in chronic pain. There are two 10inch plates and 24 pins in my hip and a plethora of screws in my wrist. Every time the barometer shifts, shooting pains run through my body like an internal lightening storm. Can’t now and may never have full sensation in my right hip and foot. Will never be able to have full use of my left hand and will likely have neuropathy for the rest of my life. I deal with it. Some days are better than others. All of them are good, though. At least there is always something beautiful to be found in an ugly day. As for the scars? Well, they are simply tattoos with an interesting testimony to thriving above surviving. Everything for a reason, right? Ultimately, it all could have been much, much worse and it never could have been done on my own. Being of a pretty independent and somewhat willful nature, this was a major hurdle. I was blessed with an amazing group of people and support system. For those of you who were there in whatever way you could offer, I am eternally grateful. Always and in all ways. When having challenging days (like many of us these last few years have been rough, to say the least) I look back on how far I’ve come. That I am stronger and wiser because of it all. That sometimes despite evidence to the contrary that there are still patient, benevolent souls walking this earth. That there is still hope and beauty. The healing process allowed me to realize the importance of kindness, learning forgiveness towards limitations, revealing strength and resiliency beyond imagination. But most of all, it taught me have faith in yourself despite any reasons to have doubt. It taught me to have patience. Well, a wee smidgen bit more than before. Now, THAT is still a work in progress. Breathe, darling, breathe. 😉 Ultimately, the biggest lesson was that, just as the caterpillar goes through a tumultuous metamorphosis to reach her culmination in beauty and freedom, somehow she always believes in her heart of hearts that she will fly among the garden flowers embracing each precious moment she has on this earth. 💕🦋💕