I’ve been trying to get together the motivation to begin posting once again and I find that I’ve been trying to blame my lack of posting on our internet limits, but I think the truth is that so much has happened that I’m just too lazy to lay it all out there. I might as well start somewhere though, and I guess the beginning is the best place.
We signed the contracts on our new home on Thursday, July 12, 2012 at noon with a move-in date of that night. I broke my pelvis and tore apart my right side at 3:34 pm.
There are plenty of different causes to blame, but truthfully, I think it’s the fault of a gas station. A new gas station on the highway that decided it was a good idea to have their gas prices digitally displayed at random intervals, causing drivers to take their eyes off of the road for extended amounts of time and not see a lovely, sweet, and entirely innocent motorcycle driver who just wanted to make her way back after work to meet her husband so they could take their puppy to their new home.
I’d just given my two-week notice at my marketing/event planning job and decided to put myself through a huge trial by starting training to become a 9-1-1 dispatcher. My plans got a little messed up.
If you’ve ever read any futuristic stories, it’s commonly acknowledged that humans do not use a large majority of their brain. It’s just sitting there, wasting away. It turns out that in extreme circumstances time does slow down. It’s an incredibly uncomfortable feeling, but it feels a little like the parts of your brain that aren’t used are opened up for these situations to give you a quick-thinking outlet to prepare you to react. Hopefully this will be a great asset as a dispatcher.
In a random amount of conversations, it’s come up between paramedic Coal and I that drunks survive accidents over alert people because they are too intoxicated to react. They essentially are limp and pliable to the impact of a accident. So what should you think about in that moment when your brain goes into super-drive? Not the what-ifs or how bad it’s going to hurt, but rather just give it up and go with it. I closed my eyes, thought to myself that Coal was not going to be happy, and just relaxed. I reopened my eyes when I stopped moving.
It might not seem like I was very lucky, but I truly believe that so many different things came into play to show us how incredibly blessed we really are in our lives.
There is no room for decency or pridefullness when you have to ask others to hold a bedpan under you. Just be relieved it’s not a tube. Yes, I did ask people to take pictures of my injury. Yes, I did flash anyone who walked in the room. If you’re going through that kind of hardship you definitely want photographic evidence.
The doctor lied. You will not feel better at 8 weeks. You can probably start teaching yourself to walk again at 8 weeks, but even going on 12 weeks, you still feel like you broke your pelvis. There are scars, areas without feeling, and a good case of chronic pain. But it's not unmanageable; more like it's just plain annoying. Then it's just a waiting game until I can get back on my remodeled bike. ;)