Monday, February 21, 2011

The beginning

“The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want, He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters, He restores my soul. He leads me down paths of righteousness for His names sake. Even though I walk through the valley of darkness, I fear no evil. For you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me, all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

It was just like any normal day. I woke up, went to church and decided to go for a motorcycle ride with my boyfriend to enjoy the summer, something we’d do almost every Sunday since we had started dating a short two months prior. Except this day, we never got to explore, we only got about two blocks away before time stopped.

The sounds of metal crushing and glass shattering and the gravity of my body flipping twice before landing didn’t even register at that point what had happened. I landed on the side of the road feeling the heat and bass of the car that was within arms distance and it was difficult to catch my breath. I see Jason a few feet away from me try to jump up to come over to me, but he falls immediately. Blood is covering his face as he tries to make his way over to me. The heat burning in the open wounds caused my body to uncontrollably shake, shock was setting in. The kid frantically jumps out and seems to be fine.

I laid staring at the blades of grass and repeating Psalm 23 and The Lords Prayer for what seems like hours. The random neighbors voice apologizing that this happened and coaching me to stay alert started to fade into background noise. Even before the paramedics showed to the scene I felt peace. If God was going to take me at that moment, I would be fine. My heart hurt for Jason, as he had crawled his way to shade, I could see nothing on his face but blood. We’d take turns calling out to each other, but as the paramedics came there was no more chance to communicate. I had no clue what was to happen to myself or the guy that I had just started dating.

No one would tell me his status, just that he would be okay. As I was tormented in the trauma room, all I could think of was Jason and what was going to happen to us. I hadn’t cried until the moment my best friend came in to the room. It was then my fear of life or death and the culmination of what just happened just exploded from my face. My concept of time was a blur, but there are specific instances I remember. Hearing Jason screaming in the trauma room next to mine, the moment I saw those closest to me, and the first time I saw Jason as he was rolled into the pre-op room. I remember the words, “Babe, they think I might lose my eye” and before I could say a word the look and head nod that I got from his nurse led me to realize that his eye was gone. The nurse came over to me and whispered, “You have to be strong for him right now.” I knew he needed comfort and it was than I knew we’d fight together no matter what would happen, and thats exactly what I said to him.

I can honestly say that I had no reassurance of my life until I woke up from surgery. As they wheeled me to my room where my family was waiting, I was taken past Jason in his post-op. I told him I loved him, and at that moment I felt as if I actually knew what love meant. Throughout the hustle of getting transferred I remember seeing my parents hug, a sight I had never seen in 25 years. I knew life would be different.

My stay in the hospital was a blur. Various doctors and trauma teams, drug after drug, visitors and family all kept my schedules pretty busy. All I knew was that everyone seemed to know who Jason and I were. Nurses would go above and beyond in trying to allow us to see each other. Getting wheel chairs to transport from one floor and room to another, and even coming to the room in which they’d know we were in if our own room was vacant. It was the first time in my life I heard the term boyfriend and/or girlfriend almost everyday and it seemed natural.

Days went by and I was fit to leave the hospital and finish healing at home. Jason however still needed time until his lung was fully recovered and the 8 bones he broke started to heal on their own. It felt weird, being at home while he was still at the hospital. I got rides down to see him, to hold his hand, to kiss his lips. I didn’t feel right being home not being able to just wheel down to his room whenever I wanted. Little did I know that this would only be the first part of a long journey to come.

Monday, September 27, 2010

My Own Self

Over the past few months everything in my life has changed. Stability is now uncertainty, dead relationships are now bursting with life, dating has become 'serious relationship', independence is now a goal and comfort has only been around with drug induced assistance.

I pray to a God that I know in my heart is there, yet most of the time I feel numb to where He is. I act like everything my boyfriend does affects me, when in reality I am just lonely and worried he's leaving me behind. My responsiblities and clout I once had at the workplace are now not needed. In all of these moments I have lost myself in being the victim. My heart has not been focusing on the proper things and therefore I have lost my sense of self.

The past week or so my mind saw the glimmer of hope it once had. Hope in being independent again, hope in what God will do in my life and hope that through my misery someone can find peace. I am glad that I am starting to get back to my own sense of self where I don't need work, a boyfriend or money to make me happy. These things all add to joy of life, but I need to be okay alone, where I am at, or else I won't be okay anywhere else.

It's been 16 weeks so far and I know I have such a long journey to go. I pray I am reminded of this joy that comes when it's me with God and the rest is just icing to my cake.

Tuesday, August 03, 2010

To persevere

The past week of my life has been hard. I go through spurts where I have good weeks with what seems like a lot of progress and then I have set back weeks where I am reminded that I have a long way to go.

I went to the doctor last week because of some weird swelling and infections around a few of my pins. They have confirmed the infection and it's just a waiting game for the swelling to go down. In the meantime I have done something to jolt my knee muscles so badly that I have been on bed rest since Sunday. I sit around during odd hours of the night, because I can't sleep due to pain, and I wonder..

I have always been told that the Lord never gives us more than we can handle. But as I sit here feeling my heartbeat through my throbbing knee, wondering when it will stop, I kind of feel like I am at wits end. I honestly don't know how much I can handle. I pray for the end, I pray the days go by fast and the pain is removed, I pray for strength to endure all of this..but it never seems to lighten up. Just when I am starting to put pressure on my leg, boom. I'm on bed rest again. Just when I think financially I won't have to borrow money for the month, boom. I get screwed over on my prescriptions and have to fork out more than expected. Little things add up that just knock any sense of confidence in my 8 weeks of perseverance out of existence.

Sometimes I just want to shout about how frustrated I am. I want to put people straight when they complain about little things, I want to yell at them for not seeing their blessings. Because as I am sitting in my bed I have a hard time seeing mine right now but I see clearly what others can't. I resist all of those temptations because I know I don't have it as bad as some. And reminding myself that keeps all of my pain and frustration in check. That's how I will continue to persevere. Knowing that my situation isn't the worst it can be, that people are more pathetic than I, and it hurts and humbles me to say that. We all must persevere.

Monday, July 19, 2010

On the Road

When I get in any car I have a period of time that I use to adjust. I get nervous, sometimes nauseous, all in all am scared for the possibility of another accident. Last Saturday I got so disturbed from the inside out I started crying.

I was in my friend's car on the way to pick up Jason for a birthday party. We were driving down Allen Rd when we hit the stop light on the bottom of the hill. To our right there was a guy, mid to late 20s on a crotch rocket. He had a helmet, that was attached to the side of his bike (good place for it, idiot) His hair reminded me of a Malibu Ken doll and he was clearly trying to be impressive on his bike. He kept revving his engine while we were stopped and he kept creeping up to the car ahead of him. Once the light turned green he sped in and out of the cars and eventually pulled in front of us. We hit the stoplight at Allen and War Memorial, and the twerp was in front of us. As he went to stop at the light, he did an inverted wheeley. His bike was horizontal and thats when my gut started to turn. This kid had no idea that as he was looking around at all the cars around him making sure they were watching him do his tricks that when he looked at me all I felt was disgust, not admiration.

I started processing the reality that there are people out there with death-wishes, doing flips being irresponsible and they get their life and maybe a little admiration from the ones who see them. While Jason and I were being as careful as can be minding our own business and had to fight for our lives. I wanted to drive by and lift up my leg and say, "Real impressive mother f**er but keep it up and this is what you're going to cause." I understand that would have been totally uncalled for, but at the same time the disgust inside wanted to do something to slap him into reality and have him understand that one day he won't be invincible and neither would the people he could injure. I wonder if I will always feel this way.

PS: Kid, Malibu Ken called and wants his haircut back. Douche.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Behind closed doors

So it's been awhile since my last blogpost for a few reasons. I will admit I've had a few ideas I wanted to write about but in all honesty it's tough to let the real come out. Since the accident I have tried to keep a positive attitude and grace throughout the weeks of agony. As the medication is dimishing and the reality of my life is sinking in, the days get tougher to get through.

Everyone around me has a life that is continuing while mine has been on hold for 6 weeks and will continue this way for about 6 more weeks. Every week I got strong enough to handle whatever surgery or procedure they did, the next week I had yet another to heal from. I started over every single week. As I have had two weeks since my last surgery the exhaustion is every day. I have never been at a point in life when I pray the days to go by quickly. When I do minimal activity I get exhausted and need to take a nap. I am no where near involved as much as I used to be and I do not feel I am contributing to society.

So let's just say that behind closed doors I am not as positive all the time as I am when I have company.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

A few years ago I was in the market for a new car. During my search I test drove quite a few different cars, and it was like clockwork that for days after I drove the car I would see that same type driving all over town. Since I've been in my accident I have had been told of at least 6 additional motorcycle accidents.

My dad has been calling me every day since my accident, if he's not there with me. Last night he was on call (he's an EMT) and his chief came to talk to him about his friend. About a week after my accident, my dad's friend was riding through town on his motorcycle (without a helmet) and a kid crossed the center line and took him out. Immediately after this guy was talking with the emergency crew and holding conversations. It was when he was at the hospital that his brain started swelling and he now has a 20% chance of living.

My friends and I joke around because I have no verbal filter and very little emotional feeling while on my medication. But as my dad was telling me this story, I actually felt heartbreak. Tears came down my face and it made me realize, "That should have been me." There is no logical reason why Jason and I are able to live the way we do now after the type of accident we had. We fought for our lives on the scene and in the hospital during our stays, but now we are in the middle of recovery. It is crazy to think that a man who was in a very similar accident now is looking at death, just a few weeks after his accident.

I want to live a life to reflect this gratitude. And I will pray for every family that ever has to be put in a situation like ours.

Thursday, June 24, 2010


As I sit here the night before phase 1 of my surgeries, mentally preparing for the start of a long journey, I can't help but just cry. I have always been a very independent person that no matter the situation, good or bad, I took responsibility for myself. I accepted any consequence with my head held high because that's what personal responsibility leads you to do. This is not a situation where I can do that. I didn't do anything to cause all of this, none of this was my fault. Yet Jason and I will continue to suffer through doctors appointments, surgeries, social anxiety, continual discomfort for some unknown reason.

I have tried to keep the question "Why" out of my vocabulary. It has always been a question that will most likely go unanswered during our time on earth and especially with the severity of our accident, even if we get an answer, I don't know if it would make everything okay. But as everyone continues to live their life just like they were, Jason and I face new challenges daily. Something as simple as showering or even going to the bathroom has become a chore. We have only been dating a few months but we can't even act like a newly dating couple. Cuddling only lasts for a short while before one of us gets uncomfortable or my leg gets hit or something that stops our affection. To ask "Why" seems like such a solid question because none of this makes sense. We decided on day 1 after we survived both of our emergency surgeries that we would never be victims. I will admit though that the further along this journey we go, that fight to remain humble and not angry gets harder.

Being independent you get a sense of control of this unpredictable life. My control in predicting recovery, handling work projects, deciding when I leave the house and sometimes even eating has been lost. I truly feel as if my life right now depends on the work of others. Coming from a situation where people have always been a let down that is a bit unnerving. I have surgery tomorrow morning that will hopefully start the recovery process for my leg. My surgeon is very admirable, but he's also human and may not be able to fix me. Reality sinks in and I have to believe in my heart that no matter what the outcome is after tomorrows procedure and ones down the road that this man will do anything in his power.

I don't have answers and I don't have control, but I guess what I can cling to is my faith. Faith that one day Jason and I will get an answer to the question we will hide deep in our hearts for the rest of our lives. Faith that someone might be saved or changed from our story. Faith that the doctor will be able to stop the infection and start reconstructing my leg. Faith that one day Jason and I can date in a normal setting, not one that requires us to get rides to see each other. I hope to always keep that faith.