Live or Die?

 I had to become comfortable with living after my ‘death’.  Yes, I realize that I’m alive and this is a hook of inquisition that I hope will keep you reading.

In 1994 I was on top of my game.  I was the fifth highest mortgage loan originator for the third largest bank in the nation.  I had worked hard, really , really hard.  It often took nearly 7/24 attention.  I started trading Sunday stillness and sanctity to support a REALTOR in their open house endeavors.  Back in those days everyone attended the infamous Tuesday morning sales meetings and then we would go off to see everyone’s new listings.  I got the bright idea of providing lunch at a new listing every single week.

It worked.  I would have so many people I sometimes ran out of food.

That Tuesday I had food left over.  I stopped by my Great Aunt’s house to leave some for them.  They weren’t home.  So I headed home for a well deserved rest.

it happened so fast.  

Our eyes locked.

The paleness of shock of certainty hit us both instantaneously.

Then there was a crash.

I knew that I had to hold the car.

She hit me so hard that the passenger side door handle was resting over the hand brake.

I was vaguely aware that she had started spinning.  I later learned that she was a 16 year old driver who had wrecked her car the day before and her Father, a successful dentist, bought her another car the night before.  She had floored the gas rather than the brake.

The Ford emblem was laying nearly in my lap.

Blinding, nearly indescribable pain shot through my body.  It was hard to breath.  It was hard to see.  It was nearly impossible to move.

And so began my death.

I fought to keep my ‘succesfull’ life.  I did everything I was asked to.  All the therapy.  All the tests.  All the surgeries.  All the modalities.  God had other plans.  Looking back I can now see his wisdom at work.

I had a lot of help because I was a patient at the Rehabilitation Hospital of Carolinas Medical Center.  it took three years of cognitive rehabilitation to relearn to read and comprehend on an 8th grade level.  That was, initially, a huge nuclear bomb attack to my ego.  Then I realized the genius of it.  God had other plans.  

We looked for two years for what my cognitive strengths were that remained.  I was sent to a college Economics class, one of the very few courses that I hadn’t had.  I absolutely couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t comprehend.  I couldn’t remember.  I simply couldn’t LEARN.  I cried.  I rebelled.  I lived within a fog of disbelief.  My Mom told me to get my education because it was something nobody could take away from me.

Really ???????????

That prophetic statement I think is what kept me trying.  My Mom was always truthful with me, sometimes even brutally so.  She laughed when I went to her work after my first Calculus test at UNCC.  I was crying uncontrollably because I had “FAILED” first test.  I had made a 96.  Yes a NINETY SIX.

I had fractures all over my body.  The inner fascia  was ripped - it felt like what I could imagine a chicken could feel as you pull their skin off the meat.  it hurt.  It really, really hurt.  My chest was black.  Every movement sent waves and currents of pain through every cell in my body.

My synaptic  dendritic connection seemed to be a wiring that allowed the ripples of pain to intensify.

I damaged three lumbar discs and two cervical discs.

Perhaps the ‘worst’ injury was the brain injury - or to be accurate the two brain injuries.   I was determined to reclaim everything.  So I started a two year Associates program in Children’s Writing, which then led to my PhD in Journalism.  Writing is just easy for me.  Words just flow.  I’m thankful.

I was so sick for so many years.  They couldn’t figure out why and just assumed it was the brain injuries.  I took SEVEN years for them to do exploratory abdominal surgery - and it was a friend of mine who finally agreed to do it.  My ribs had punctured my gall bladder and it was stone hard.  When I woke up in recovery I immediately knew that they had found the problem because i felt SO MUCH BETTER - imagine that, feeling better after anesthesia than before anesthesia.

MS was triggered by the trauma and while I’m mostly in remission I’m still numb on my left side sort of like a novocain shot that is almost worn off.  At first I had to use a wheelchair.  then I went to a power scooter and eventually a walker with a seat.  So the fact that I can now ride a bike is pretty awesome to me.

But all of this was to get to this next part.  MIGRAINES.  OMG.  they are awful.  I thought surely it was my brain injuries  causing flashing lights, blinding pain and darkness to come over my eyes.  In order to fully understand I must tell you about the day the adhesion was broken.

i was in the therapy room and two folks were working on my broken body.  The axis and atlas was dislocated but pulled back I suppose by the tendons.  The therapy that particular hour was to work on getting as much range of motion for my neck as possible.  Suddenly there was an audible ‘ripping’.  I have NEVER felt pain like I did in that moment.  I absolutely couldn’t talk.  My jaws wouldn’t work.  But I did cry - very telling because I was kind of legendary for not crying no matter what they did to me.  There is absolutely no way I would even begin the thought of wanting even my worst enemy to even experience to a tiny level.

I was quickly surrounded by 6 more therapists.  They were trying to get me to talk, but I couldn’t.  The head therapist got there pretty quick and had them pack my head in crushed ice - it felt good.  She told them to stop trying to get me to speak.  After about 30” of icing I was given a pencil (and you wonder why I hate a regular pencil???????) and a pad of paper where I wrote what I was feeling.

So began my love of yoga.  It was the only thing that could give me a sliver of relief.  I rarely miss a day.  I also have a special pillow - and my Mom bought one for my Grandmother too.  I have hers ready for when I must give up the one I’ve used for so long.

It took the trauma neurologist five years, FIVE YEARS, to come up with a medication cocktail that allowed the headache to live just under the surface.  I even went into minor liver failure once because of the mix of medications that I was asked to try.  I’ve submitted to numerous nerve block injections.  I RARELY ask for that anymore.  

that’s why I was excited to learn about the DAITH piercing.  Yes - I had it done ten days ago.  I bled profusely for 9 straight hours.  I started to go to the ER, then it occurred to me to look at the ingredients in Excedrin Migraine.  325mg of Aspirin.  So I prayed, and I held ice on my ear and it finally stopped.  It hurt like HELL (and I usually don’t cuss) but it was so very WORTH it.  Mom hasn’t said anything, but I know intuitively that she doesn’t approve.  Good thing she wasn’t here to see the bleeding LOL.

I think the reason I was compelled to write this was to say this - walk a mile in someone else’s skin before you judge them.  We all have things happening that we don’t talk about.  We all have disappointments and challenges.  The best course is to do all we can to not focus on these things but rather accentuate the positive.

So - if you see my face twitching, don’t worry it’s just the nerves misbehaving from the injuries.  If you see me kneading my neck - don’t worry I’m just trying to loosen it up.  If you hear my neck pop - don’t worry it’s normal.

Be careful what you give to your children.  The young driver lost her license for ten years.  Was it enough?  I hope so.  I hope she found a way to make it ‘worth’ it.  Oh, I just realized I didn’t tell you that because she had floored the gas instead of the brake she went into a spin.  that’s how she hit me twice and she landed in a deep ditch which is the only thing that stopped her car.

Often our decisions impact others adversely.  Will you think of all that I deal with every second of every hour of every day and every night before you judge someone?  I would consider it a favor.

respectfully requested by Soaring Eagle Heart.