I wanted to post this when it first happened, as a prayer request, but I didn't have access for a couple of days. Then she was improving so quickly, it lost it's urgency.
But the truth is, prayers are still needed. Lots of them. And so I'm calling on my prayer warriors once again.
*******************
Two weeks ago my 19 year old niece was in a serious car accident. She was in the backseat, riding with a couple of friends, when they were t-boned by an SUV. There may or may not have been a semi involved (there are conflicting reports). The vehicle that hit them was estimated to be travelling at 70 mph at time of impact.
The driver was treated and released for minor injuries. We haven't heard from her since she was released. According to her twitter feed she is back to work and shopping for a new car.
The passenger is being treated for a skull fracture, and remembers nothing of the accident. She remains hospitalized.
My niece was brought in unconscious as a Jane Doe. She had no ID on her, and so hospital staff had to wait until the driver could identify her to notify family. She was brought in with a serious concussion, internal bleeding, a fractured vertebrae, broken ribs, and broken thumb.
Once a scan revealed no signs of brain damage, the internal bleeding was the most serious problem. However, within 36 hours it appeared that the bleeding had stopped.
Because of where they are, her vertebrae & ribs cannot be set. Her thumb is still so swollen that it cannot be set.
Perhaps more troubling is that she does have brain damage after all. Once her internal bleeding stopped, they moved her to a rehab facility. The neuro team there said essentially that her brain bounced around inside her head and is bruised "everywhere".
She still cannot remember anything from that entire day. She struggles to remember her name or to perform basic math problems. She cannot stand or walk. She cannot lean forward. She has no emotion, and is apathetic towards everything. She does not feel hunger, and does not care to eat. She has short term memory loss, and also seems to have a difficult time grasping new information.
The neuro team says that this is all normal considering her type of injury. They say her prognosis is actually very good, it's just going to take "a really long time" for her brain to heal from the bruising.
And now they think the internal bleeding has started again (why would it start again if she spends all her time in a hospital bed? is it possible that it never stopped? how do they even know this stuff anyway?).
In addition, they have discovered that the muscles of her hip have separated away from the bone and herniated. I don't really understand all the technicalities of this, but she will need surgery to have any hope of normal function. Unforunately the surgeon says her body is still too traumitized to withstand any non-life-saving surgery at this time. So they are looking at performing the surgery in the next 4 - 6 weeks, depending on her recovery.
To be honest, I try not to think about it too much. Because when I do, I end up crying.
Although the doctors say her long-term prognosis is good, it's still very scary. So scary. First we pleaded with God for her life, now we plead for her to return to "normal".
I hate that word. But I don't know what else to use.
I ask you to plead with me, asking God to continue to heal her body, for her to regain function, and for this entire experience to be used, in some way, to bring glory to His name, to draw her closer to Him.
Selah.
Showing posts with label accident. Show all posts
Showing posts with label accident. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Monday, December 31, 2012
Second Chances
This is something that's been stirring around in my brain for a while. Time for it to come out.
Ya'll remember my nephew, right? (short version - overdosed on drugs, almost died, medical miracle)
For more details read here & here for the short-story explanations.
Let me preface this by saying that I already said that I don't know why God spared him. And maybe more importantly, why God doesn't spare others. (crap, I swear I already blogged on this, but now I can't find the post. If I do, I'll insert it here).
Anyway, there are some things that happened surrounding my nephew's incident that left me (us) troubled.
Like... people from my sister's and BIL's church, which they were very active in, people they were close to, shunning them after they heard about their son's overdose.
Like... when I initially went forward at my church to pray for my nephew, and the "prayer partner" there stared at me and stumbled thru a prayer that seemed anything but sincere (thank God my pastor didn't act this way or I might not go there anymore).
Like... my nephew's doctors seeming to try to rush his parents into deciding to pull the plug. From the beginning I felt like he was getting less-than-stellar treatment because of why he was in that condition.
Like... other people. Random people. Friends reacting to the news of his condition with a well-he-did-it-to-himself laissez-faire attitude.
This all bothers me.
And not just because it's my nephew.
Did he make a mistake? Yes. A huge one. There's no denying that. He admits it himself.
Do we all make mistakes? Yes. Sometimes little ones. Sometimes big ones. But we all do.
Does he deserve to be dismissed, written-off, uncared for, left-to-die, because of his mistake? Does his family deserve to be shunned because of a mistake their son made?
Not unless we all deserve it too.
Everyone messes up. Some bigger than others. Or maybe it's that we all mess up the same, just in different ways. Some are obvious (ie. drug overdose that almost kills you), some are not so obvious (IDK... that's why they're not obvious, I suppose).
But the thing is that we all screw up at one time or another. We all do. And while I can't change how other people react to mistakes, I can do this:
I can not judge people by one mistake in their past.
I can not treat people differently because they made a mistake that I didn't make.
I can love everyone to the best of my ability.
I can show others the grace that I have been shown. Or that I wish I had been shown.
I can support people thru their mistakes, and thru the consequences of their actions, whether society judges them or not (because there are always consequences).
I can try to do all these things and more. Maybe I will succeed. Maybe sometimes I will slip. I am human after all. But I can try to make the world a better place, one second chance at a time.
**********************
For anyone who's interested, my nephew is doing well. To the best of our knowledge, including those who live with him, he has not taken any illegal substances since returning home. My understanding is that he is unable to work (ie. not released by his doctors to work), but is currently attending a local community college (I don't know why school is okay, but not work - ask his doctors). He really seems to be trying to make a better life for himself, and understands the gravity of what happened. As much as he can, since he doesn't remember any of it. His memory of the incident goes from feeling sick, then jumps to doing physical therapy in the hospital. Everything in-between is lost to brain damage. You can see a renewed interest in family, as he has attended more family functions in the past few months than he has in the past 2 years combined.
Physically / medically speaking, he is severely hard-of-hearing. He hates to admit it, but it's obvious that he's getting most of what is being said from reading lips. The hearing loss is considered permanent, and hearing aids do not help, as the loss is due to brain damage, not an ear problem.
His brain damage is still considered severe, and permanent. He has been warned that one head injury could kill him. So when he stumbled down some stairs and bumped his head, what would have been a no-biggie to the rest of us, landed him in the hospital for some testing (he's fine).
And... I think that's it. For now. As always, thanks for checking in.
Ya'll remember my nephew, right? (short version - overdosed on drugs, almost died, medical miracle)
For more details read here & here for the short-story explanations.
Let me preface this by saying that I already said that I don't know why God spared him. And maybe more importantly, why God doesn't spare others. (crap, I swear I already blogged on this, but now I can't find the post. If I do, I'll insert it here).
Anyway, there are some things that happened surrounding my nephew's incident that left me (us) troubled.
Like... people from my sister's and BIL's church, which they were very active in, people they were close to, shunning them after they heard about their son's overdose.
Like... when I initially went forward at my church to pray for my nephew, and the "prayer partner" there stared at me and stumbled thru a prayer that seemed anything but sincere (thank God my pastor didn't act this way or I might not go there anymore).
Like... my nephew's doctors seeming to try to rush his parents into deciding to pull the plug. From the beginning I felt like he was getting less-than-stellar treatment because of why he was in that condition.
Like... other people. Random people. Friends reacting to the news of his condition with a well-he-did-it-to-himself laissez-faire attitude.
This all bothers me.
And not just because it's my nephew.
Did he make a mistake? Yes. A huge one. There's no denying that. He admits it himself.
Do we all make mistakes? Yes. Sometimes little ones. Sometimes big ones. But we all do.
Does he deserve to be dismissed, written-off, uncared for, left-to-die, because of his mistake? Does his family deserve to be shunned because of a mistake their son made?
Not unless we all deserve it too.
Everyone messes up. Some bigger than others. Or maybe it's that we all mess up the same, just in different ways. Some are obvious (ie. drug overdose that almost kills you), some are not so obvious (IDK... that's why they're not obvious, I suppose).
But the thing is that we all screw up at one time or another. We all do. And while I can't change how other people react to mistakes, I can do this:
I can not judge people by one mistake in their past.
I can not treat people differently because they made a mistake that I didn't make.
I can love everyone to the best of my ability.
I can show others the grace that I have been shown. Or that I wish I had been shown.
I can support people thru their mistakes, and thru the consequences of their actions, whether society judges them or not (because there are always consequences).
I can try to do all these things and more. Maybe I will succeed. Maybe sometimes I will slip. I am human after all. But I can try to make the world a better place, one second chance at a time.
**********************
For anyone who's interested, my nephew is doing well. To the best of our knowledge, including those who live with him, he has not taken any illegal substances since returning home. My understanding is that he is unable to work (ie. not released by his doctors to work), but is currently attending a local community college (I don't know why school is okay, but not work - ask his doctors). He really seems to be trying to make a better life for himself, and understands the gravity of what happened. As much as he can, since he doesn't remember any of it. His memory of the incident goes from feeling sick, then jumps to doing physical therapy in the hospital. Everything in-between is lost to brain damage. You can see a renewed interest in family, as he has attended more family functions in the past few months than he has in the past 2 years combined.
Physically / medically speaking, he is severely hard-of-hearing. He hates to admit it, but it's obvious that he's getting most of what is being said from reading lips. The hearing loss is considered permanent, and hearing aids do not help, as the loss is due to brain damage, not an ear problem.
His brain damage is still considered severe, and permanent. He has been warned that one head injury could kill him. So when he stumbled down some stairs and bumped his head, what would have been a no-biggie to the rest of us, landed him in the hospital for some testing (he's fine).
And... I think that's it. For now. As always, thanks for checking in.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Bulging Disc
After finally giving in and seeing my family doctor, and the subsequent MRI, we have a diagnosis.
Bulging disc.
Same disc that re-injured last year.
Same disc that I had surgery on in 2006.
Same disc originally injured in a car accident in 2002.
I didn't realize it'd been hurting for six months (that long?!?) until I stumbled across this blog post from February.
The pain gets better, gets worse, but never goes away. I'd say it stays steady in the 3 range, sometimes down to a 1 or 2, sometimes spiking to an 8 or 9.
Six months. I was thinking it was only three. See, this is why I blog. My memory stinks.
Anywho, I had my MRI, it's a bulging disc, and with no big surprise he's referring be back to my neurosurgeon.
I don't really want to go thru a surgery & recovery again. But I can't go thru life in constant pain either. Especially with a munchkin depending on me.
And (I know I should wait to talk to the surgeon before I even think about it, but...) I also am pretty sure that the surgery won't be as bad this time around, as (I think) it would be a routine discectomy.
My original surgery took more than twice the estimated time, my scar is double the size I was told. They got into my spine & found my injury was more complicated than originally anticipated. The hardest part? Scraping the calcified gunk (annulus fibrosus) off of the nerves surrounding the disc. My disc had exploded into my spine, and over time the gunk (not a medical term, my term) had calcified on the nerves. My surgeon said one nerve was actually cemented onto the bone, unable to move. In addition, the center of the disc (nucleus pulposes) was no longer in the middle of my disc, but was bulging out of the opening left by the absent gunk.
Long story short, it wasn't a routine procedure. And recovery was long. And miserable.
All that to say, I'mthinking hoping that if I do need surgery again (and I think that is what he'll recommend), then this time it will be more of a routine discectomy, right? RIGHT?!? (just say 'yes' to make me feel better, 'kay?)
So, that's my update for today. As always, thanks for checking in!
Bulging disc.
Same disc that re-injured last year.
Same disc that I had surgery on in 2006.
Same disc originally injured in a car accident in 2002.
I didn't realize it'd been hurting for six months (that long?!?) until I stumbled across this blog post from February.
The pain gets better, gets worse, but never goes away. I'd say it stays steady in the 3 range, sometimes down to a 1 or 2, sometimes spiking to an 8 or 9.
Six months. I was thinking it was only three. See, this is why I blog. My memory stinks.
Anywho, I had my MRI, it's a bulging disc, and with no big surprise he's referring be back to my neurosurgeon.
I don't really want to go thru a surgery & recovery again. But I can't go thru life in constant pain either. Especially with a munchkin depending on me.
And (I know I should wait to talk to the surgeon before I even think about it, but...) I also am pretty sure that the surgery won't be as bad this time around, as (I think) it would be a routine discectomy.
My original surgery took more than twice the estimated time, my scar is double the size I was told. They got into my spine & found my injury was more complicated than originally anticipated. The hardest part? Scraping the calcified gunk (annulus fibrosus) off of the nerves surrounding the disc. My disc had exploded into my spine, and over time the gunk (not a medical term, my term) had calcified on the nerves. My surgeon said one nerve was actually cemented onto the bone, unable to move. In addition, the center of the disc (nucleus pulposes) was no longer in the middle of my disc, but was bulging out of the opening left by the absent gunk.
Long story short, it wasn't a routine procedure. And recovery was long. And miserable.
All that to say, I'm
So, that's my update for today. As always, thanks for checking in!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
On Healing, Faith, and Emotions
Yes, I believe God can and does perform miraculous healings.
Yes, I believe God sometimes does this outside of medical intervention.
Yes, I believe God sometimes uses medical intervention to perform healings.
Yes, I have faith that God will do this at the request of His followers, within His will.
Yes, all of these things give me hope.
Yes, I believe God sometimes says 'no', for reasons we may never understand.
Yes, I believe God sometimes says 'yes... but not how you would like'
Yes, these things occasionally make me feel sad.
**********************
When I had my accident, and for the four years thereafter, I had several people tell me I should attend a healing service, ask people to pray over my injury. I never did. Not because I thought He wouldn't, but because from the moment it happened, I had this feeling that I was supposed to go thru this, that this was my cross to bear. To ask to be healed of something I was supposed to go to seemed like a violation. When I did eventually have my surgery, the timing felt perfect, and to me it was no less miraculous than if I had been spontaneously healed years before.
***********************
For years before he passed, my father-in-law believed that if God wanted him to be healed, God would do it. He did not want medical intervention.
Looking back on the past few years, I honestly believe God brought him thru several heart attacks in the past 3 years, none of which even incapacitated him. I can think of three such episodes just off the top of my head.
Our entire family has had great comfort in looking back over his life, and believing that he died because it was time.
***********************
My nephew (let's call him TheBoy) has achieved incredible healing, that has been in direct opposition to what Western medicine has said his prognosis will be.
When his overdose first happened, we were told that within 48 hours the family will need to make a decision about life support (ie. whether or not to pull the plug). He was not breathing on his own at all.
Less than a week later, he can breathe on his own, he reacts to physical & emotional stimuli, he opens his eyes on command, his kidney failure resolved almost overnight, as did his liver failure.
We have gone from crying out to God to "JUST LET HIM LIVE!" (literally, I literally sat in my living room and cried those words to my Father), to asking him to be well enough to attend his sister's graduation party in 3 weeks.
Since the moment I heard of his overdose, I never had "the bad feeling", the feeling that precedes knowing someone will die (if you've had it, you know what it feels like). I have had a good feeling, an optimistic feeling, and I believed God would continue to improve TheBoy's physical condition.
Until today. I don't have "the bad feeling". But I no longer have the good feeling either. I feel strongly that God is saying this is it, this is as far as He is bringing TheBoy's physical healing.
I won't pretend to know why. And perhaps I am wrong. But I don't think I am.
My faith is still strong, and I believe God has a reason for this, we just don't know what it is yet.
And I am immensely grateful for God sparing TheBoy's life, and for the incredible improvements we have seen. I thank God for giving him another chance.
But still, I am sad. Dejected. I cannot think straight. The tears flow freely.
Yes, I believe God sometimes does this outside of medical intervention.
Yes, I believe God sometimes uses medical intervention to perform healings.
Yes, I have faith that God will do this at the request of His followers, within His will.
Yes, all of these things give me hope.
Yes, I believe God sometimes says 'no', for reasons we may never understand.
Yes, I believe God sometimes says 'yes... but not how you would like'
Yes, these things occasionally make me feel sad.
**********************
When I had my accident, and for the four years thereafter, I had several people tell me I should attend a healing service, ask people to pray over my injury. I never did. Not because I thought He wouldn't, but because from the moment it happened, I had this feeling that I was supposed to go thru this, that this was my cross to bear. To ask to be healed of something I was supposed to go to seemed like a violation. When I did eventually have my surgery, the timing felt perfect, and to me it was no less miraculous than if I had been spontaneously healed years before.
***********************
For years before he passed, my father-in-law believed that if God wanted him to be healed, God would do it. He did not want medical intervention.
Looking back on the past few years, I honestly believe God brought him thru several heart attacks in the past 3 years, none of which even incapacitated him. I can think of three such episodes just off the top of my head.
Our entire family has had great comfort in looking back over his life, and believing that he died because it was time.
***********************
My nephew (let's call him TheBoy) has achieved incredible healing, that has been in direct opposition to what Western medicine has said his prognosis will be.
When his overdose first happened, we were told that within 48 hours the family will need to make a decision about life support (ie. whether or not to pull the plug). He was not breathing on his own at all.
Less than a week later, he can breathe on his own, he reacts to physical & emotional stimuli, he opens his eyes on command, his kidney failure resolved almost overnight, as did his liver failure.
We have gone from crying out to God to "JUST LET HIM LIVE!" (literally, I literally sat in my living room and cried those words to my Father), to asking him to be well enough to attend his sister's graduation party in 3 weeks.
Since the moment I heard of his overdose, I never had "the bad feeling", the feeling that precedes knowing someone will die (if you've had it, you know what it feels like). I have had a good feeling, an optimistic feeling, and I believed God would continue to improve TheBoy's physical condition.
Until today. I don't have "the bad feeling". But I no longer have the good feeling either. I feel strongly that God is saying this is it, this is as far as He is bringing TheBoy's physical healing.
I won't pretend to know why. And perhaps I am wrong. But I don't think I am.
My faith is still strong, and I believe God has a reason for this, we just don't know what it is yet.
And I am immensely grateful for God sparing TheBoy's life, and for the incredible improvements we have seen. I thank God for giving him another chance.
But still, I am sad. Dejected. I cannot think straight. The tears flow freely.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Dave Ramsey Got Me Scared
FireMan & I started taking the Dave Ramsey Financial Peace University course thru our church.
FireMan was on shift, so I went to the first class alone.
And I can't stop thinking about it.
Not so much the class itself, or (to be honest), anything Dave Ramsey said on thetape DVD (whatever, I'm old). But something that was said in the discussion we had afterward.
One of the core teachings of the class is to have a substantial emergency savings for you / your family. During discussion, we were discussing what a true "emergency" means.
Of course, people immediately started talking about medical bills.
As they talked, I started to get physically ill thinking back to everything I went thru after my accident in 2002. Not just physically, but what that did to me financially.
I had the realization long ago, that had it not been for my supportive family, I probably would have ended up on the streets.
At one point I was seeing eight different doctors. That means eight different doctor bills. Plus the emergency room bills (because you know if you make one visit to the ER, you'll get like five different bills, right?). Plus prescription meds.
And let's not forget my car was totalled (I managed to drive it for another year - some parts literally held together with duct tape - before it actually died).
I missed work, unpaid. But not quite enough to file for short-term disability.
My health insurance wouldn't cover it, because I was injured in a car accident.
My car insurance decided to fight my claim, so I had to hire a lawyer.
Thank God I lived with my parents at the time (something I lamented at the time, but later saw as part of God's plan. Maybe I should tell that story on here someday).
And sitting in that class, my stomach completely sank when the gentleman leading the class said:
"Okay, many of you are bringing up medical bills, so obviously it's happened for several of you. Now think for a minute... what if that happened again, right now? What would you do (financially)?"
I seriously wanted to puke.
FireMan and I have a little savings. We have good equity in our house. We have things we could sell to get money.
But... honestly? If something like my accident happened to one (or God forbid, both) of us right this minute? Where we were seeing eight different doctors, none of our insurance would pay it, our vehicle was totalled, we were missing work unpaid, etc... Oh.... my.... goodness.
The thought of it literally sickens me.
The chance of that happening? I'd like to say slim-to-none. But then again, it happened to me. One thing Dave Ramsey explains in his philosophy of saving for an emergency is that the unexpected isn't really unexpected.
These things do happen. People get sick. Accidents happen. People lose jobs. It happens. To say it's unexpected, really just shows how much time we spend living in a fantasy world where these things don't happen. Because they do.
The good part of this? I'm excited about saving.
Now... we're just starting Step 1: Have $1000 in your emergency fund, but I'm already thinking ahead to Step 3: Have 3-6 months of expenses in your emergency fund.
Can you imagine having 6 months of expenses in your emergency fund?
And then, because I am also baby stepping my way to stockpiling via coupon savings, can you imagine having 6 months of expenses in your emergency fund, plus 6 months of food & toiletries in your stockpile?
What a comfort that would be. Combining the two you would surely have 8 - 9 months of a cushion, should someone lose a job. And what a security net should there be an accident, illness, or other unexpected occurrence.
I can't stop thinking about it.
So much so that I've thought about cancelling our upcoming trip to save the $$. Except some of our reservations are non-refundable. So... I'd rather get something out of it, then not go and lose both the money and the reservation, ya know?
Besides, I really think this upcoming trip is going to be very beneficial to our marriage, which is an even better investment than money.
So... what's your savings situation? Have you taken Dave Ramsey? Thoughts?
As always, thanks for checking in!
FireMan was on shift, so I went to the first class alone.
And I can't stop thinking about it.
Not so much the class itself, or (to be honest), anything Dave Ramsey said on the
One of the core teachings of the class is to have a substantial emergency savings for you / your family. During discussion, we were discussing what a true "emergency" means.
Of course, people immediately started talking about medical bills.
As they talked, I started to get physically ill thinking back to everything I went thru after my accident in 2002. Not just physically, but what that did to me financially.
I had the realization long ago, that had it not been for my supportive family, I probably would have ended up on the streets.
At one point I was seeing eight different doctors. That means eight different doctor bills. Plus the emergency room bills (because you know if you make one visit to the ER, you'll get like five different bills, right?). Plus prescription meds.
And let's not forget my car was totalled (I managed to drive it for another year - some parts literally held together with duct tape - before it actually died).
I missed work, unpaid. But not quite enough to file for short-term disability.
My health insurance wouldn't cover it, because I was injured in a car accident.
My car insurance decided to fight my claim, so I had to hire a lawyer.
Thank God I lived with my parents at the time (something I lamented at the time, but later saw as part of God's plan. Maybe I should tell that story on here someday).
And sitting in that class, my stomach completely sank when the gentleman leading the class said:
"Okay, many of you are bringing up medical bills, so obviously it's happened for several of you. Now think for a minute... what if that happened again, right now? What would you do (financially)?"
I seriously wanted to puke.
FireMan and I have a little savings. We have good equity in our house. We have things we could sell to get money.
But... honestly? If something like my accident happened to one (or God forbid, both) of us right this minute? Where we were seeing eight different doctors, none of our insurance would pay it, our vehicle was totalled, we were missing work unpaid, etc... Oh.... my.... goodness.
The thought of it literally sickens me.
The chance of that happening? I'd like to say slim-to-none. But then again, it happened to me. One thing Dave Ramsey explains in his philosophy of saving for an emergency is that the unexpected isn't really unexpected.
These things do happen. People get sick. Accidents happen. People lose jobs. It happens. To say it's unexpected, really just shows how much time we spend living in a fantasy world where these things don't happen. Because they do.
The good part of this? I'm excited about saving.
Now... we're just starting Step 1: Have $1000 in your emergency fund, but I'm already thinking ahead to Step 3: Have 3-6 months of expenses in your emergency fund.
Can you imagine having 6 months of expenses in your emergency fund?
And then, because I am also baby stepping my way to stockpiling via coupon savings, can you imagine having 6 months of expenses in your emergency fund, plus 6 months of food & toiletries in your stockpile?
What a comfort that would be. Combining the two you would surely have 8 - 9 months of a cushion, should someone lose a job. And what a security net should there be an accident, illness, or other unexpected occurrence.
I can't stop thinking about it.
So much so that I've thought about cancelling our upcoming trip to save the $$. Except some of our reservations are non-refundable. So... I'd rather get something out of it, then not go and lose both the money and the reservation, ya know?
Besides, I really think this upcoming trip is going to be very beneficial to our marriage, which is an even better investment than money.
So... what's your savings situation? Have you taken Dave Ramsey? Thoughts?
As always, thanks for checking in!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Spread the Happy.
The past few years have been a period of enormous adversity for me. Something that my long-time followers have probably figured out. You know, if they've been paying attention :)
And you may remember earlier this year I hit what really felt like bottom. But what is it they say about hitting rock-bottom? You have nowhere to go but up?
Well, I can't really pinpoint a moment, but I really feel like somewhere between now & then I've reached a turning point.
The healing process (because you know I like that analogy) is... regenerating.
It is less & less the painful ripping off old bandages to put on new, and more and more the growth of new tissue, the easing of tired muscles, the strengthening of self.
I am, slowly, beginning to feel more & more like myold self.
And in feeling more & more like I used to be, there is something about how I have been, about how I am being, that I do not like.
It is no one's fault, no one's responsibility but my own.
But it has also proven a difficult disposition to break through.
I have become a Negative Nellie.
And I don't like it.
This is something I've thought about for a while, but in differing perspectives, as my journey took me thru different places.
I've thought things like: well, of course you are, it's human nature, everyone goes thru that, etc, etc, etc.
And that all may be true.
And, I don't want to be too hard on myself, because I did struggle with some very legitimate issues, and found myself in a reasonably weakened mental & emotional state.
But... it's still up to me. It's still my choice.
And I am stronger now. I know I am.
So it is time. It is time for me to stand up and to take control of Negative Nellie, and tell her to get lost. And to find a new frame of mind, a new me, constantly recreated, better than I was.
It's so tempting for me to think "I want to be who I was before..."
Back when I was in college, and my college sweetheart used to tell me that I was too optimistic.
Back to the days following my accident, when I would hobble into my doctors' offices, and the staff would comment on how they didn't know how I could possibly seem so happy, when I was obviously in so much pain.
But... I don't want to be who I was before. Because I know that it is by coming thru trials that we become our strongest, that we learn the most.
And so I will be new.
And to this end, to help guide Negative Nellie out of here, I will be doing a new series of postings.
I will post something that made me happy that week, as well as my favorite blog posting from the past week. Because why not share the joy?
And because I like to practice on my graphic design, I made a button. It'll show up in my first series-posting. So in the spirit of spreading the joy, you can feel free to grab it and play along. Because you might not be a Negative Nellie like me, but, well, can't well all use a little more happy? Spread the happy.
Well, I'm done now. First "Spread the Happy" post to follow in the days ahead.
But before I go, I have to give a shout-out to Steph over at Plan B. Because while I've beenworking struggling with being more positive for a while now, it was her post about being thankful that inspired me to do this series.
I thought about doing the thankful series, but felt that a happy series suited where I needed to get myself better at this point in time. I might pick up the thankful series later. Either way, I'm sure there will be some overlap. Hard to be thankful without being happy. Hard to be happy without being thankful :)
As always, thanks for checking in.
And you may remember earlier this year I hit what really felt like bottom. But what is it they say about hitting rock-bottom? You have nowhere to go but up?
Well, I can't really pinpoint a moment, but I really feel like somewhere between now & then I've reached a turning point.
The healing process (because you know I like that analogy) is... regenerating.
It is less & less the painful ripping off old bandages to put on new, and more and more the growth of new tissue, the easing of tired muscles, the strengthening of self.
I am, slowly, beginning to feel more & more like my
And in feeling more & more like I used to be, there is something about how I have been, about how I am being, that I do not like.
It is no one's fault, no one's responsibility but my own.
But it has also proven a difficult disposition to break through.
I have become a Negative Nellie.
And I don't like it.
This is something I've thought about for a while, but in differing perspectives, as my journey took me thru different places.
I've thought things like: well, of course you are, it's human nature, everyone goes thru that, etc, etc, etc.
And that all may be true.
And, I don't want to be too hard on myself, because I did struggle with some very legitimate issues, and found myself in a reasonably weakened mental & emotional state.
But... it's still up to me. It's still my choice.
And I am stronger now. I know I am.
So it is time. It is time for me to stand up and to take control of Negative Nellie, and tell her to get lost. And to find a new frame of mind, a new me, constantly recreated, better than I was.
It's so tempting for me to think "I want to be who I was before..."
Back when I was in college, and my college sweetheart used to tell me that I was too optimistic.
Back to the days following my accident, when I would hobble into my doctors' offices, and the staff would comment on how they didn't know how I could possibly seem so happy, when I was obviously in so much pain.
But... I don't want to be who I was before. Because I know that it is by coming thru trials that we become our strongest, that we learn the most.
And so I will be new.
And to this end, to help guide Negative Nellie out of here, I will be doing a new series of postings.
I will post something that made me happy that week, as well as my favorite blog posting from the past week. Because why not share the joy?
And because I like to practice on my graphic design, I made a button. It'll show up in my first series-posting. So in the spirit of spreading the joy, you can feel free to grab it and play along. Because you might not be a Negative Nellie like me, but, well, can't well all use a little more happy? Spread the happy.
Well, I'm done now. First "Spread the Happy" post to follow in the days ahead.
But before I go, I have to give a shout-out to Steph over at Plan B. Because while I've been
I thought about doing the thankful series, but felt that a happy series suited where I needed to get myself better at this point in time. I might pick up the thankful series later. Either way, I'm sure there will be some overlap. Hard to be thankful without being happy. Hard to be happy without being thankful :)
As always, thanks for checking in.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
THE injury
This is going to be a long, boring post all about my back injury. Yep, the one from my accident in 2002.
Yes, there's a reason. But now, you just get the injury. Details as best I could do this many years later.
**********************************
My car got t-boned in April 2002. The lady that hit me was driving an estimated 50 mph, and accelerating, at the moment of impact. She admitted such.
I initially felt no pain. You know, adrenalin and all. So when I called 9-1-1 I told the dispatcher no ambulance was needed. First mistake.
As the police officer who responded was wrapping things up with the other driver, and I was waiting for him to dismiss me, I began to notice a slight burning sensation in my lower back.
Realizing this was not right, and considering there was a hospital about two blocks away, I decided I would drive myself to the emergency room after the officer told me I could go. And so I did. Second mistake.
In the emergency room, I was treated like a drug-seeker. By this time the pain was so bad I could not sit down. Still a burning sensation. I would later be told by my family doctor that this is the type of pain people describe when something is touching a nerve.
The doctor who saw me completely dismissed me. Did no Xrays or MRIs, even when I requested them. Did no range-of-motion test. Gave me a prescription for ibuprofen and told me I would be in more pain in the morning, but that was normal, so don't worry.
Unfortunately I was still in a bit of shock, and didn't realize till later that night how I was treated. Or else he would have heard it then. But alas, when you're in shock, it takes quite a bit longer to process things.
My mom drove me home (I lived with my parents at the time, and soon became glad that I did), I went to bed.
When I awoke the next morning, I couldn't stand up straight. I was all hunched over like I belonged at the top of Notre Dame or something.
Guess the doc was right, huh? I was definitely in more pain.
I called in to work, and then called my chiropractor, who fit me in.
Shocked when they saw me, they did Xrays there in the office. The Xrays didn't reveal too much, except that when my knee hit the dashboard it knocked my right hip seriously out of alignment, and my right hip was now about three inches higher than my left. The first clue that my injury was more serious than the joke of a doctor I saw in the ER.
I followed up with a visit to my family doctor. He convinced me to go on Tylenol 3. I didn't want to, scared to death I would be one of those people that got addicted. Besides, I could get around, right?
He looked me in the eye and said "You can't stand up straight. You're in serious pain. This is what pain meds are for. If you don't like the way it feels, stop taking them. Okay?"
I reluctantly agreed. But Tylenol 3 did little for the pain.
He prescribed physical therapy, sent me to an orthopedist, suggested I continue chiropractic care. At one point I was being seen by six different medical professionals on a regular basis. But which ones... escapes me.
I had PT at 6:30am, to try to get it in before work. I'd see another doctor during lunch. Then leave a few minutes early to go to the third. Just about every day, for months.
Two different doctors suggested that I seek disability, and offered to complete the forms.
I refused.
I could get around, I could work.
Was I in constant pain? Sure. But to me disability means that you can't, and I could. So I refused.
While seeing all those doctors, I kept hearing the same phrase:
"It sort of acts like a herniated disk, but not really."
And since my auto insurance decided to fight my claims, and my health insurance wouldn't pay because the injury was sustained in a car accident, I was paying everything out of pocket.
So my doctors, not seeing definitive symptoms of a herniated disk, decided not to do the scans that would diagnose such, because they are very costly.
Besides, physical therapy combined with chiropractic treatment did lessen my pain.
Although my chiropractor, whom I was seeing three times a week, was frustrated because my body would not "hold" the adjustments. Basically, although I felt better when I left, I'd be right back where we started just a day or so later. Apparently this is not normal.
And at the end of six weeks of physical therapy, when they did my evaluation and compared it to the one they did at my first visit, my pain had indeed lessened. But so had my mobility. I was in less pain, but I lost range-of-motion. Also, not normal.
So my doctor prescribed another six weeks of PT, and I continued chiropractic treatment, and somehere in there my pain meds were upped to Vicodin.
And then, one morning in November, seven months after my accident, I woke up and was unable to walk unsupported, due to the excruciating pain in my right calf.
Now, knowing I hadn't hurt my leg recently, and knowing how the nerves in the lower back network down your legs, I called in to work, and then called my family doctor.
It was then that he ordered the MRI, that would show that I did not indeed have a normal herniated disk. I had a herniated disk with extrusion.
But even that wasn't special enough to describe the joy that was my injury.
Let's explore the differences (in my basic, not very scientific or medical-ease way).
Herniated disk = disk is bulging out, often hitting a nerve, causing terrible pain at the affected area
Herniated disk w/ extrusion = the disk has actually ruptured, and the nucleus of the disk, a jelly-like substance, is oozing out. Symptoms are often the same, or very similar to a normal herniated disk, because the disk is often bulging at the sight of the rupture.
my injury (in my doctor's words) = "imagine someone stomping on a jelly donut. The donut is your disk. The jelly that should be inside the donut is the nucleus of the disk. Your disk exploded like someone stomped on it."
Aren't I special?
But that explains why my symptoms didn't fit. Understand?
So, from there I got sent to another specialist, a neurosurgeon. Who told me that while I wasn't the youngest patient he's ever seen, and it wasn't the worst injury he'd ever seen, it was the worst injury he'd ever seen on someone so young.
Yay me.
He also advised me to immediately stop all physical manipulation. This meant no more chiropractic treatment, no more physical therapy, no more at-home exercises. Basically, the more I did to my back, the greater the chance that I actually worsened my condition. Great.
I wasn't to sit for too long. Or stand for too long. Never do anything faster than a walk. But don't walk too much. No heels on my shoes, flat comfy shoes only. Don't lift anything over 5 lbs on a regular basis, and never anything over 10 lbs. Don't ride roller coasters. Don't bend over too much. Don't, don't don't...
Here I was, in my early 20s, and I was being given more restrictions than my 80-year-old grandma.
And... there was nothing they could do for me, except for surgery.
Except... the surgery was exceptionally invasive, and should be put off as long as possible. So I was put on some stronger pain meds, and told to come back if the pain became "intolerable".
But at least... no more doctors, right? I'd see my family doctor for pain med refills, the occasional follow-up to the orthopeadist, and then see the surgeon again if the pain became intolerable or if I lost feeling or function in any of my lower extremities.
I was told to do whatever I needed to do to make myself as comfortable as possible, because (basically) that was all we could do.
I was in pain every moment of every day for nearly four years.
No, that is not an exaggeration. It is a literal, truthful statement.
Yes, that is even on the medication. The state-maximum allowed dosage of my prescribed combination of narcotics made my pain tolerable. But only if I made sure to take it at the prescribed intervals. As in, if I was late on just one dose, I would be bedridden with pain for the next 10-12 hours.
And since one of those medications had a half-life of 4-6 hours, this meant that I had to set my alarm to wake up in the middle of the night so I could take it, just so I could function the next day.
Which meant that for four years I did not get a good night's rest.
No, I'm not kidding.
Because of the nature of my injury, one of the most painful things to do, early on, was to drive. Sitting while extending my right leg in that way, was excruciating. My co-workers never knew this (I don't think), but for months I screamed my way to work in the morning, tears rolling down my cheeks, then I'd sit in the parking lot to compose myself before walking in.
I don't remember when that changed, but somewhere along the way, driving became okay again. Well, more tolerable at least.
And then, as the muscles in my lower back atrophied because they were no longer getting the signals from my brain, lying down (aka. sleeping) became my most painful activity.
Do you know what it's like for it to be painful to sleep?
I slept many nights in my dad's recliner, or in my bed with 4 pillows stacked under my knees to raise them in a mock-sitting position.
Did you know atrophy can be painful? I didn't. But it is. Or can be, at least. No one ever told me that.
The numbness & tingling in my legs became so frequent I rarely noticed it anymore. Although there was one troublesome symptom though, that I never got used to.
Every once in a while, I would have the odd sensation of a drop of water running down my right leg. Always my right leg. The first few times I would run to the bathroom, terrified that I had somehow peed myself, and was feeling it run down my leg. But nope, I was dry. Always. Every time (thank goodness!). Yet the sensation was there.
As the months passed, and it became apparent that I could tolerate the pain, my prognosis changed a little. Instead of telling me I would need surgery when the pain became intolerable, it changed to being that I would need surgery when I lost function of my right leg.
My right leg, because that's where the focus of my nerve damage was.
I was told that most likely I would either wake up in the morning unable to move it, or I would be walking, and suddenly would be dragging my leg behind me.
Scary. At first.
Then you get used to it. Plan on what to do. And pray that it doesn't happen while you're driving. But practice driving with your left foot, just in case.
And so I persisted.
I was also told during this time, that my injury was considered a "lifetime injury". Meaning that, surgery or not, I would be facing the consequences of this injury for the rest of my life. For the rest of my life, I would have to be careful, not lift too heavy of things, not jar myself too much, just general awareness & carefulness.
Four years in pain. It still seems unreal to me. I didn't really think about it at the time. I was just trying to live my life as best I could. I think I did a pretty good job.
I worked full time. Sometimes two jobs. I volunteered. I travelled. I did stuff.
I just did it all in pain. And a lot of it hunched over like a frail old lady.
I got glared at by people when I waited for my mom, or my (somewhat) older co-workers to pick up heavy things for me. Because unless I was hunched over at that precise moment, I didn't look injured. So I suppose I looked like a spoiled princess or something.
If I were walking around hunched over - and I got around just fine, mind you, I was just crooked & hunched over - I got stared at, offered wheelchairs, etc.
I certainly didn't date a whole lot.
And then, nearly four years after my accident, it happened.
Well, not it. But I knew.
I was walking back to my desk at work, and my leg fell asleep - you know, that uncomfortable tingly, doesn't-want-to-move sensation? - while I was walking.
I got back to my desk and tried to rub it out, step it out, like you do when your leg falls asleep. But, of course, to no avail. So I called my family doctor.
He confirmed it, it was time for surgery.
Between consults & getting insurance approval (my case had by that time finally been settled, so my health insurance was left to cover the surgery & any subsequent treatment), it was two months before I actually got my surgery (have I mentioned that I'm convinced insurance companies are run by the devil?).
Unfortunately, I didn't read the fine print on my short-term disability insurance closely enough, and didn't get covered because I had my surgery two days too soon. (see devil comment above). Which means I went over 6 weeks without a paycheck of any sort. Nothing like adding the stress of financial woes to someone recovering from major surgery, right?
Anywho... my surgery was supposed to be 30-45 minutes, and I would be discharged that evening.
It ended up taking just over 90 minutes, and I was kept overnight.
Why, you ask? Well, because I was even more special than they originally thought!
When the surgeon opened me up, he discovered that the stuff that had exploded from my disc had, over the years, calcified on my nerves, cementing them to one another & to my spine. So, after repairing the disc, he had to "chisel" (his word) the calcifications from the nerves to free them.
And I was told that there was a significant chance (at this point I don't remember the percentage) that I would need an additional surgery in the future.
I was given several new narcotics, with the idea of these to be not only pain relief, but to keep me as immobile as possible. Meaning that one of them knocked me out about 20 minutes after I took it. Which is what it was supposed to do. Which means that I don't remember a whole lot of the following 6 weeks. Bits & pieces, but not much else.
I do know that the pain I'd been feeling for four years was gone, immediately. Oh sure, there was surgery pain, incision pain. But the pain of the injury was gone. Just... gone.
And I remember lying on my bed one day, just lying there, and I felt this twinge, and I started intentionally moving the muscles in my lower back. And I felt muscles that I hadn't felt in four years. The muscles that had atrophied were responding, and I could feel them again. It was such a surreal feeling.
I met FireMan 3 months after my surgery. I was still recovering. I had just gone off of all prescription medications, but still had a hard time getting around, walked a little funny, got sore easily, took a lot of ibuprofen & Tylenol.
We have a few funny stories from our first few weeks together, all as a result of my recovery. Funny to us, anyway.
So that's my story. Long as it was, it still barely touches on my experience. I feel like I left so much out.
I will say that hopefully now, when I post about stopping a workout because my back hurt, or not doing something around the house because my back hurt... well, that at least you, my readers, will understand a little bit better than the rest of the world.
Because it does get tiring sometimes, of mentioning something, and then getting comments about "pushing thru the pain" or how pushing on is the only way to strengthen those muscles, or just the looks you get. And quite frankly I don't usually feel like explaining the whole entire story.
I have to be very careful.
I know my body. I know the difference between what I can push thru, and what I can't.
My back will always be weak. Always. Not the muscles, but that particular disc will always be at risk for re-injury.
I could push thru more than I do. I have an incredible pain tolerance level, but it's not always about the pain. Sometimes it's about what the pain is a symptom of, what the pain is trying to tell you. And it's making a choice about what level of risk-taking is worth it.
*****************************************
And just for fun, random interesting fact about me:
I'm approximately half an inch shorter post-accident than I was pre-accident. True story. Family doctor confirmed it with my records about a year after the accident.
Told ya I was special. Ha!
Thanks for checking in.
Yes, there's a reason. But now, you just get the injury. Details as best I could do this many years later.
**********************************
My car got t-boned in April 2002. The lady that hit me was driving an estimated 50 mph, and accelerating, at the moment of impact. She admitted such.
I initially felt no pain. You know, adrenalin and all. So when I called 9-1-1 I told the dispatcher no ambulance was needed. First mistake.
As the police officer who responded was wrapping things up with the other driver, and I was waiting for him to dismiss me, I began to notice a slight burning sensation in my lower back.
Realizing this was not right, and considering there was a hospital about two blocks away, I decided I would drive myself to the emergency room after the officer told me I could go. And so I did. Second mistake.
In the emergency room, I was treated like a drug-seeker. By this time the pain was so bad I could not sit down. Still a burning sensation. I would later be told by my family doctor that this is the type of pain people describe when something is touching a nerve.
The doctor who saw me completely dismissed me. Did no Xrays or MRIs, even when I requested them. Did no range-of-motion test. Gave me a prescription for ibuprofen and told me I would be in more pain in the morning, but that was normal, so don't worry.
Unfortunately I was still in a bit of shock, and didn't realize till later that night how I was treated. Or else he would have heard it then. But alas, when you're in shock, it takes quite a bit longer to process things.
My mom drove me home (I lived with my parents at the time, and soon became glad that I did), I went to bed.
When I awoke the next morning, I couldn't stand up straight. I was all hunched over like I belonged at the top of Notre Dame or something.
Guess the doc was right, huh? I was definitely in more pain.
I called in to work, and then called my chiropractor, who fit me in.
Shocked when they saw me, they did Xrays there in the office. The Xrays didn't reveal too much, except that when my knee hit the dashboard it knocked my right hip seriously out of alignment, and my right hip was now about three inches higher than my left. The first clue that my injury was more serious than the joke of a doctor I saw in the ER.
I followed up with a visit to my family doctor. He convinced me to go on Tylenol 3. I didn't want to, scared to death I would be one of those people that got addicted. Besides, I could get around, right?
He looked me in the eye and said "You can't stand up straight. You're in serious pain. This is what pain meds are for. If you don't like the way it feels, stop taking them. Okay?"
I reluctantly agreed. But Tylenol 3 did little for the pain.
He prescribed physical therapy, sent me to an orthopedist, suggested I continue chiropractic care. At one point I was being seen by six different medical professionals on a regular basis. But which ones... escapes me.
I had PT at 6:30am, to try to get it in before work. I'd see another doctor during lunch. Then leave a few minutes early to go to the third. Just about every day, for months.
Two different doctors suggested that I seek disability, and offered to complete the forms.
I refused.
I could get around, I could work.
Was I in constant pain? Sure. But to me disability means that you can't, and I could. So I refused.
While seeing all those doctors, I kept hearing the same phrase:
"It sort of acts like a herniated disk, but not really."
And since my auto insurance decided to fight my claims, and my health insurance wouldn't pay because the injury was sustained in a car accident, I was paying everything out of pocket.
So my doctors, not seeing definitive symptoms of a herniated disk, decided not to do the scans that would diagnose such, because they are very costly.
Besides, physical therapy combined with chiropractic treatment did lessen my pain.
Although my chiropractor, whom I was seeing three times a week, was frustrated because my body would not "hold" the adjustments. Basically, although I felt better when I left, I'd be right back where we started just a day or so later. Apparently this is not normal.
And at the end of six weeks of physical therapy, when they did my evaluation and compared it to the one they did at my first visit, my pain had indeed lessened. But so had my mobility. I was in less pain, but I lost range-of-motion. Also, not normal.
So my doctor prescribed another six weeks of PT, and I continued chiropractic treatment, and somehere in there my pain meds were upped to Vicodin.
And then, one morning in November, seven months after my accident, I woke up and was unable to walk unsupported, due to the excruciating pain in my right calf.
Now, knowing I hadn't hurt my leg recently, and knowing how the nerves in the lower back network down your legs, I called in to work, and then called my family doctor.
It was then that he ordered the MRI, that would show that I did not indeed have a normal herniated disk. I had a herniated disk with extrusion.
But even that wasn't special enough to describe the joy that was my injury.
Let's explore the differences (in my basic, not very scientific or medical-ease way).
Herniated disk = disk is bulging out, often hitting a nerve, causing terrible pain at the affected area
Herniated disk w/ extrusion = the disk has actually ruptured, and the nucleus of the disk, a jelly-like substance, is oozing out. Symptoms are often the same, or very similar to a normal herniated disk, because the disk is often bulging at the sight of the rupture.
my injury (in my doctor's words) = "imagine someone stomping on a jelly donut. The donut is your disk. The jelly that should be inside the donut is the nucleus of the disk. Your disk exploded like someone stomped on it."
Aren't I special?
But that explains why my symptoms didn't fit. Understand?
So, from there I got sent to another specialist, a neurosurgeon. Who told me that while I wasn't the youngest patient he's ever seen, and it wasn't the worst injury he'd ever seen, it was the worst injury he'd ever seen on someone so young.
Yay me.
He also advised me to immediately stop all physical manipulation. This meant no more chiropractic treatment, no more physical therapy, no more at-home exercises. Basically, the more I did to my back, the greater the chance that I actually worsened my condition. Great.
I wasn't to sit for too long. Or stand for too long. Never do anything faster than a walk. But don't walk too much. No heels on my shoes, flat comfy shoes only. Don't lift anything over 5 lbs on a regular basis, and never anything over 10 lbs. Don't ride roller coasters. Don't bend over too much. Don't, don't don't...
Here I was, in my early 20s, and I was being given more restrictions than my 80-year-old grandma.
And... there was nothing they could do for me, except for surgery.
Except... the surgery was exceptionally invasive, and should be put off as long as possible. So I was put on some stronger pain meds, and told to come back if the pain became "intolerable".
But at least... no more doctors, right? I'd see my family doctor for pain med refills, the occasional follow-up to the orthopeadist, and then see the surgeon again if the pain became intolerable or if I lost feeling or function in any of my lower extremities.
I was told to do whatever I needed to do to make myself as comfortable as possible, because (basically) that was all we could do.
I was in pain every moment of every day for nearly four years.
No, that is not an exaggeration. It is a literal, truthful statement.
Yes, that is even on the medication. The state-maximum allowed dosage of my prescribed combination of narcotics made my pain tolerable. But only if I made sure to take it at the prescribed intervals. As in, if I was late on just one dose, I would be bedridden with pain for the next 10-12 hours.
And since one of those medications had a half-life of 4-6 hours, this meant that I had to set my alarm to wake up in the middle of the night so I could take it, just so I could function the next day.
Which meant that for four years I did not get a good night's rest.
No, I'm not kidding.
Because of the nature of my injury, one of the most painful things to do, early on, was to drive. Sitting while extending my right leg in that way, was excruciating. My co-workers never knew this (I don't think), but for months I screamed my way to work in the morning, tears rolling down my cheeks, then I'd sit in the parking lot to compose myself before walking in.
I don't remember when that changed, but somewhere along the way, driving became okay again. Well, more tolerable at least.
And then, as the muscles in my lower back atrophied because they were no longer getting the signals from my brain, lying down (aka. sleeping) became my most painful activity.
Do you know what it's like for it to be painful to sleep?
I slept many nights in my dad's recliner, or in my bed with 4 pillows stacked under my knees to raise them in a mock-sitting position.
Did you know atrophy can be painful? I didn't. But it is. Or can be, at least. No one ever told me that.
The numbness & tingling in my legs became so frequent I rarely noticed it anymore. Although there was one troublesome symptom though, that I never got used to.
Every once in a while, I would have the odd sensation of a drop of water running down my right leg. Always my right leg. The first few times I would run to the bathroom, terrified that I had somehow peed myself, and was feeling it run down my leg. But nope, I was dry. Always. Every time (thank goodness!). Yet the sensation was there.
As the months passed, and it became apparent that I could tolerate the pain, my prognosis changed a little. Instead of telling me I would need surgery when the pain became intolerable, it changed to being that I would need surgery when I lost function of my right leg.
My right leg, because that's where the focus of my nerve damage was.
I was told that most likely I would either wake up in the morning unable to move it, or I would be walking, and suddenly would be dragging my leg behind me.
Scary. At first.
Then you get used to it. Plan on what to do. And pray that it doesn't happen while you're driving. But practice driving with your left foot, just in case.
And so I persisted.
I was also told during this time, that my injury was considered a "lifetime injury". Meaning that, surgery or not, I would be facing the consequences of this injury for the rest of my life. For the rest of my life, I would have to be careful, not lift too heavy of things, not jar myself too much, just general awareness & carefulness.
Four years in pain. It still seems unreal to me. I didn't really think about it at the time. I was just trying to live my life as best I could. I think I did a pretty good job.
I worked full time. Sometimes two jobs. I volunteered. I travelled. I did stuff.
I just did it all in pain. And a lot of it hunched over like a frail old lady.
I got glared at by people when I waited for my mom, or my (somewhat) older co-workers to pick up heavy things for me. Because unless I was hunched over at that precise moment, I didn't look injured. So I suppose I looked like a spoiled princess or something.
If I were walking around hunched over - and I got around just fine, mind you, I was just crooked & hunched over - I got stared at, offered wheelchairs, etc.
I certainly didn't date a whole lot.
And then, nearly four years after my accident, it happened.
Well, not it. But I knew.
I was walking back to my desk at work, and my leg fell asleep - you know, that uncomfortable tingly, doesn't-want-to-move sensation? - while I was walking.
I got back to my desk and tried to rub it out, step it out, like you do when your leg falls asleep. But, of course, to no avail. So I called my family doctor.
He confirmed it, it was time for surgery.
Between consults & getting insurance approval (my case had by that time finally been settled, so my health insurance was left to cover the surgery & any subsequent treatment), it was two months before I actually got my surgery (have I mentioned that I'm convinced insurance companies are run by the devil?).
Unfortunately, I didn't read the fine print on my short-term disability insurance closely enough, and didn't get covered because I had my surgery two days too soon. (see devil comment above). Which means I went over 6 weeks without a paycheck of any sort. Nothing like adding the stress of financial woes to someone recovering from major surgery, right?
Anywho... my surgery was supposed to be 30-45 minutes, and I would be discharged that evening.
It ended up taking just over 90 minutes, and I was kept overnight.
Why, you ask? Well, because I was even more special than they originally thought!
When the surgeon opened me up, he discovered that the stuff that had exploded from my disc had, over the years, calcified on my nerves, cementing them to one another & to my spine. So, after repairing the disc, he had to "chisel" (his word) the calcifications from the nerves to free them.
And I was told that there was a significant chance (at this point I don't remember the percentage) that I would need an additional surgery in the future.
I was given several new narcotics, with the idea of these to be not only pain relief, but to keep me as immobile as possible. Meaning that one of them knocked me out about 20 minutes after I took it. Which is what it was supposed to do. Which means that I don't remember a whole lot of the following 6 weeks. Bits & pieces, but not much else.
I do know that the pain I'd been feeling for four years was gone, immediately. Oh sure, there was surgery pain, incision pain. But the pain of the injury was gone. Just... gone.
And I remember lying on my bed one day, just lying there, and I felt this twinge, and I started intentionally moving the muscles in my lower back. And I felt muscles that I hadn't felt in four years. The muscles that had atrophied were responding, and I could feel them again. It was such a surreal feeling.
I met FireMan 3 months after my surgery. I was still recovering. I had just gone off of all prescription medications, but still had a hard time getting around, walked a little funny, got sore easily, took a lot of ibuprofen & Tylenol.
We have a few funny stories from our first few weeks together, all as a result of my recovery. Funny to us, anyway.
So that's my story. Long as it was, it still barely touches on my experience. I feel like I left so much out.
I will say that hopefully now, when I post about stopping a workout because my back hurt, or not doing something around the house because my back hurt... well, that at least you, my readers, will understand a little bit better than the rest of the world.
Because it does get tiring sometimes, of mentioning something, and then getting comments about "pushing thru the pain" or how pushing on is the only way to strengthen those muscles, or just the looks you get. And quite frankly I don't usually feel like explaining the whole entire story.
I have to be very careful.
I know my body. I know the difference between what I can push thru, and what I can't.
My back will always be weak. Always. Not the muscles, but that particular disc will always be at risk for re-injury.
I could push thru more than I do. I have an incredible pain tolerance level, but it's not always about the pain. Sometimes it's about what the pain is a symptom of, what the pain is trying to tell you. And it's making a choice about what level of risk-taking is worth it.
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And just for fun, random interesting fact about me:
I'm approximately half an inch shorter post-accident than I was pre-accident. True story. Family doctor confirmed it with my records about a year after the accident.
Told ya I was special. Ha!
Thanks for checking in.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
TBP #7 - my favorite quote
I guess it qualifies as a quote, it would have to be my life verse, Isaiah 40:31: "But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."
In youth group as a teenager, we were asked to identify a "life verse", a verse that impacts your life significantly (as if you could choose only one, ha!). I didn't really understand the concept, but I knew that Isaiah 40:31 was my favorite verse, and so I said that one.
I guess you could say it has become my life verse, over time.
It's a promise I cling to, one that I have clung to, many times in my life. It's a promise that says if we wait for the Lord, our strength will be renewed, we will rise up agin, we will move forward with endurance. If we only wait.
There are two periods of time in my life, in particular, that this verse had special meaning for me:
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First, when I was single, unattached, and longing for my future husband, longing for babies. Longing, desperate in a heart-aching sort of way. And it seemed like it would never come. I watched friend after friend get married. I went thru a period of time when I was the only adult member of my entire extended family that was not married or in a long-term relationship (and I have a huge family, so... that's pretty significant). I was single so long I watched as my married friends got divorced, and then remarried. That's right... some of my friends got married twice while I was still waiting for number one. Not that I'd want to go thru divorce, but... it didn't seem fair somehow.
If you've never been there, it's difficult to understand, but being single can be utterly painful. Being single when you feel in your heart that you were called to be a wife & mother, but the fulfillment of that calling sometimes seems as if it will never come... that is painful. Actually, chest-hurting painful.
And so I clung to God's promise. He didn't promise me a husband, or children, but He did promise that if I would be patient, if I would WAIT on Him... my strength would be renewed, and I would rise up.
And so, as patiently as my human self could muster... I waited for the Lord to reveal His plan. And then one day, He did.
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Secondly, following the car accident I had in my mid-twenties, the verse took on a very literal meaning.
I spent every day for four years in constant pain. Constant. Every moment of every day I was in some level of pain.
There were days that I could not walk without assistance.
There were days when my parents had to help finish dressing me.
There were days when I could not move my arms enough to put the pain medication into my mouth.
I remember, during that time, if someone asked me how I was, I would often respond with "well, I woke up this morning, got out of my bed on my own, and can walk without assistance. It's a good day." And I meant it. (Lord, help me remember that perspective on life)
I know if you didn't see me during that time, it's hard to imagine me like that now. But for me, the memory is still fairly fresh. And humbling.
And that's my very point.
During that time, when I could choose to be discouraged and angry with God for allowing this to happen, I instead chose to WAIT on the Lord.
I clung to that promise.
If I wait on the Lord, He will renew my strength. He said He would. He promised it. He didn't give a time frame, but He promised He would do it. So I waited.
If I wait on the Lord, then someday, instead of falling on the floor, curled up, weak, waiting & hoping that someone would hear me call for help, someday... I will mount up on wings like eagles, I will rise of my own accord. So I waited.
If I wait on the Lord, then someday... instead of walking all hunched over & disfigured, I will walk & run of my own accord. If I just wait for Him. And so I waited.
And then, the time came. Four years later... it was time. And now, although I will have to be cautious for the rest of my life, and yes, back spasms sometimes even now cause me to gasp not only in pain, but in fear of returning to that place, but... I waited. And I have strength. And I rise. And I walk. And I have, on occasion, even run.
********
The fact is, I have clung to the promise on numerous occasions, large & small, and I can tell you, in my experience at least, God has always kept His promise.
In fact, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who truly & honestly did what God asked (ie. waiting on Him), and didn't find that His promises were fulfilled.
********
So.. that's my favorite quote:
In youth group as a teenager, we were asked to identify a "life verse", a verse that impacts your life significantly (as if you could choose only one, ha!). I didn't really understand the concept, but I knew that Isaiah 40:31 was my favorite verse, and so I said that one.
I guess you could say it has become my life verse, over time.
It's a promise I cling to, one that I have clung to, many times in my life. It's a promise that says if we wait for the Lord, our strength will be renewed, we will rise up agin, we will move forward with endurance. If we only wait.
There are two periods of time in my life, in particular, that this verse had special meaning for me:
********
First, when I was single, unattached, and longing for my future husband, longing for babies. Longing, desperate in a heart-aching sort of way. And it seemed like it would never come. I watched friend after friend get married. I went thru a period of time when I was the only adult member of my entire extended family that was not married or in a long-term relationship (and I have a huge family, so... that's pretty significant). I was single so long I watched as my married friends got divorced, and then remarried. That's right... some of my friends got married twice while I was still waiting for number one. Not that I'd want to go thru divorce, but... it didn't seem fair somehow.
If you've never been there, it's difficult to understand, but being single can be utterly painful. Being single when you feel in your heart that you were called to be a wife & mother, but the fulfillment of that calling sometimes seems as if it will never come... that is painful. Actually, chest-hurting painful.
And so I clung to God's promise. He didn't promise me a husband, or children, but He did promise that if I would be patient, if I would WAIT on Him... my strength would be renewed, and I would rise up.
And so, as patiently as my human self could muster... I waited for the Lord to reveal His plan. And then one day, He did.
********
Secondly, following the car accident I had in my mid-twenties, the verse took on a very literal meaning.
I spent every day for four years in constant pain. Constant. Every moment of every day I was in some level of pain.
There were days that I could not walk without assistance.
There were days when my parents had to help finish dressing me.
There were days when I could not move my arms enough to put the pain medication into my mouth.
I remember, during that time, if someone asked me how I was, I would often respond with "well, I woke up this morning, got out of my bed on my own, and can walk without assistance. It's a good day." And I meant it. (Lord, help me remember that perspective on life)
I know if you didn't see me during that time, it's hard to imagine me like that now. But for me, the memory is still fairly fresh. And humbling.
And that's my very point.
During that time, when I could choose to be discouraged and angry with God for allowing this to happen, I instead chose to WAIT on the Lord.
I clung to that promise.
If I wait on the Lord, He will renew my strength. He said He would. He promised it. He didn't give a time frame, but He promised He would do it. So I waited.
If I wait on the Lord, then someday, instead of falling on the floor, curled up, weak, waiting & hoping that someone would hear me call for help, someday... I will mount up on wings like eagles, I will rise of my own accord. So I waited.
If I wait on the Lord, then someday... instead of walking all hunched over & disfigured, I will walk & run of my own accord. If I just wait for Him. And so I waited.
And then, the time came. Four years later... it was time. And now, although I will have to be cautious for the rest of my life, and yes, back spasms sometimes even now cause me to gasp not only in pain, but in fear of returning to that place, but... I waited. And I have strength. And I rise. And I walk. And I have, on occasion, even run.
********
The fact is, I have clung to the promise on numerous occasions, large & small, and I can tell you, in my experience at least, God has always kept His promise.
In fact, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who truly & honestly did what God asked (ie. waiting on Him), and didn't find that His promises were fulfilled.
********
So.. that's my favorite quote:
But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. -- Isaiah 40:31
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Wanna play along?
Thursday, March 10, 2011
TBP #6 - Cars I've Driven
The first car I drove was a 1979 Plymouth Volare.
I was 16-years-old, and my school district had cut busing as a cost reduction effort. It was my Grandma's car, but she could no longer drive, so my dad bought it from her for me to drive.
It eventually died on me in a Taco Bell parking lot, an hour away from home, while my parents were out of town & my brother was away at college.
I ended up walking three blocks to the church and calling one of my cousins, who drove me home. My parents came back after they got home, and had it towed to a junkyard.
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My second car was a 1993 Chevy Corsica
My parents had recently bought a new car, and the Volare had died, so this became "my" car to drive. I eventually ended up buying it from my parents and it actually became my first car.
It was a great car, but was totalled in an auto accident in 2002. Yes, the same accident in which I was injured. Luckily for me, the "totalling" was mostly external damage. The passenger side mirror was ripped off, and the passenger side back seat door would no longer open. The driver side rear door was bent in so far that there was a gap between the top of the door and the car's frame. We stuffed plastic into the crack and duct-taped all along the door opening (classy, I know). But I was poor, and now fighting with the insurance company over mounting medical bills. So I did what I had to do.
I actually drove it totalled for nearly another year until it became so unreliable that I no longer felt safe. And that's when I bought:
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a 2000 Toyota Corolla
This was the first car I ever bought on my own. I remember we'd been looking at cars for three days, but when I sat in this one, I actually got giddy. It was my car. It had to be.
Bought it using the Toyota Certified Used program, which was great. The warranty provided under that program has saved me literally thousands of dollars in repairs / part replacements. (no matter what make of car you buy, if you're buying used I highly recommended buying thru their used warrantly program, whatever it may be. it was seriously a lifesaver for me)
We still own this car. It is nearing 200,000 miles and still running fine. FireMan is the primary driver now, because...
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Whoever has FireGirl drives the 2007 Toyota RAV4
When we found out we were pregnant, FireMan decided to trade in his Toyota Tundra for something more practical for a family (cue the "awwwwwwww.............").
I have to say, I miss the truck, but at the same time I love my RAV.
Also - this is the first car we bought together, and the only vehicle we own that has both of our names on the title.
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FireMan also has a 1994 Ford Econoline
It's primary use is for the business. In fact, he's installed tool boxes along the walls in the back, and it also holds his pump-testing equipment.
Currently it is a personal vehicle, but we are seriously considering having it licensed and insured as a business vehicle within the year. There are pros & cons to both ways of doing it, so... final decision hasn't been made yet.
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Wanna play along?
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
My Past is Haunting Me
And not in that I-screwed-up-and-am-paying-the-consequences sort of way. In the someone-else-screwed-up-and-I'm-paying-the-consequences sort of way.
And I don't like it.
Remember my post about how they were gonna double our down payment because I had a bankruptcy in my past? Well, late yesterday we got word that they might not approve us at all because of it.
Ugh.
According to the loan officer they can make exceptions if the filing were the result of truly extenuating circumstances, which I feel mine was. So I submitted a letter detailing my accident, injury, surgery, blah, blah, blah and how this affected my financial status at the time.
I mean, my credit since then has been fine. Haven't even been late with one payment. My credit score has gone up a little bit each year. I've done all the right things, financially speaking. I think, anyway.
We haven't heard anything since I submitted the letter.
It just really kinda ticks me off. In a way I feel like I'm being punished because of something someone else did.
I mean, the lady that hit me? She ran a red light, and got a ticket, and had some minor damage to her car. I get hit, and have a totalled car, a lifetime injury, years of pain, and a subsequent bankruptcy on my record. How is that fair?
Oh, and to add insult to injury, I needed to move a cinder block this morning. One cinder block. Yep, you guessed it. About 30 minutes later my back went out. I've been in some level of pain pretty much all day. Luckily for me, it's been just a little pain most of the time, punctuated by episodes of pain so bad you almost fall over when it hits you. All because I moved one cinder block. Stupid back.
And no, FireMan wasn't home. And yes, it needed to be moved before he'll get home. So unless FireGirl got some miraculous super-strength, I didn't have much of a choice.
So I know it's only been a day, but I really want a definitive answer. Yay or Nay. Yes or no. New house or old house. I hate this hanging in limbo thing. And the paperwork the loan officer had sent previously had a tentative closing date Jun 28, so it's not like we have a ton of time. We just really need to know what's gonna happen.
And I don't like it.
Remember my post about how they were gonna double our down payment because I had a bankruptcy in my past? Well, late yesterday we got word that they might not approve us at all because of it.
Ugh.
According to the loan officer they can make exceptions if the filing were the result of truly extenuating circumstances, which I feel mine was. So I submitted a letter detailing my accident, injury, surgery, blah, blah, blah and how this affected my financial status at the time.
I mean, my credit since then has been fine. Haven't even been late with one payment. My credit score has gone up a little bit each year. I've done all the right things, financially speaking. I think, anyway.
We haven't heard anything since I submitted the letter.
It just really kinda ticks me off. In a way I feel like I'm being punished because of something someone else did.
I mean, the lady that hit me? She ran a red light, and got a ticket, and had some minor damage to her car. I get hit, and have a totalled car, a lifetime injury, years of pain, and a subsequent bankruptcy on my record. How is that fair?
Oh, and to add insult to injury, I needed to move a cinder block this morning. One cinder block. Yep, you guessed it. About 30 minutes later my back went out. I've been in some level of pain pretty much all day. Luckily for me, it's been just a little pain most of the time, punctuated by episodes of pain so bad you almost fall over when it hits you. All because I moved one cinder block. Stupid back.
And no, FireMan wasn't home. And yes, it needed to be moved before he'll get home. So unless FireGirl got some miraculous super-strength, I didn't have much of a choice.
So I know it's only been a day, but I really want a definitive answer. Yay or Nay. Yes or no. New house or old house. I hate this hanging in limbo thing. And the paperwork the loan officer had sent previously had a tentative closing date Jun 28, so it's not like we have a ton of time. We just really need to know what's gonna happen.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Seeing a Therapist / Counselor
I never know what to call her. Therapist. Counselor. Shrink, LOL.
Anyway, what I want to say is that it's very helpful. I think everyone probably could use a therapist at least once during their lives. Probably more than once.
I wish I had known how helpful this would be earlier.
Like ten years ago when my college sweetheart left me. I was pretty screwed up for a while. A therapist would have been helpful.
Or like eight years ago when I had my car accident. That was a lot to deal with, and even though I think I handled everything pretty well, I think it would have been helpful.
And I'm sure I would think of many more instances if I thought about it long enough.
Just having a knowledgeable, non-judgemental person who can listen to how you feel, listen to what you're going thru / have gone thru, listen to your thoughts, and is a completely neutral third party, and is able to give you advice based on years of experience, tell you when you're right, and give you some insight & perspective when you're wrong. Not that she ever tells me I'm "wrong", per se (part of the non-judgemental aspect of it), but just being able to show you how your perspective might be a little... off. And actually explain it to you with reason, logic, and compassion.
Anyway, the point of me writing all this is to tell you that if you ever think to yourself "geez, maybe I need to see a shrink", well... maybe you do. Not that you need to, but maybe it would be helpful. I highly recommend it.
One thing that I have learned, and re-learned, over & over again in my life is that strength doesn't lie in not ever needing help. Strength lies in knowing when you need help, and in your willingness to find & accept the help that you need.
Till next time...
Anyway, what I want to say is that it's very helpful. I think everyone probably could use a therapist at least once during their lives. Probably more than once.
I wish I had known how helpful this would be earlier.
Like ten years ago when my college sweetheart left me. I was pretty screwed up for a while. A therapist would have been helpful.
Or like eight years ago when I had my car accident. That was a lot to deal with, and even though I think I handled everything pretty well, I think it would have been helpful.
And I'm sure I would think of many more instances if I thought about it long enough.
Just having a knowledgeable, non-judgemental person who can listen to how you feel, listen to what you're going thru / have gone thru, listen to your thoughts, and is a completely neutral third party, and is able to give you advice based on years of experience, tell you when you're right, and give you some insight & perspective when you're wrong. Not that she ever tells me I'm "wrong", per se (part of the non-judgemental aspect of it), but just being able to show you how your perspective might be a little... off. And actually explain it to you with reason, logic, and compassion.
Anyway, the point of me writing all this is to tell you that if you ever think to yourself "geez, maybe I need to see a shrink", well... maybe you do. Not that you need to, but maybe it would be helpful. I highly recommend it.
One thing that I have learned, and re-learned, over & over again in my life is that strength doesn't lie in not ever needing help. Strength lies in knowing when you need help, and in your willingness to find & accept the help that you need.
Till next time...
Friday, May 21, 2010
Ugh. Life. Isn't. Fair.
So, the bank called FireMan late yesterday.
They nearly doubled the down payment they would require from us. Money we don't have on hand.
Why, you ask? Because I have a bankruptcy in my past.
It was all I could do to keep from crying at work when he told me.
See, remember me telling you about the car accident I was in in 2002? The one where I hurt my back? And then the surgery I had in 2006? Well, long story short, after a three year legal battle with the car insurance company, I didn't even get enough money to pay my medical bills, let alone replace my totalled car, or pay me for lost wages. I was left with thousands of dollars of debt, mostly to different doctors.
So, in 2006, after the surgery bills were added on top of the other bills I'd been struggling to pay for the previous four years, I couldn't make it anymore. I spent about six months living off of Totinos Pizzas (they were only $1 at Remkes) and water. Sometimes KoolAid or some mac-n-cheese for a treat. A special treat would be the 79-cent cheeseburger from the McDonald's down the street. No cable. No shopping. No frills. At. All. I remember when I finally met with a bankruptcy attorney, and she sent me to a financial counselor (as required by the bankruptcy laws). He said he didn't know how I'd made it like that for so long. But I was determined to pay off my debts. I tried. I really, really tried. But the bills got to be too much. I couldn't make it any longer.
So... I'm in a car accident in 2002. A woman accelerates thru a red light, t-boning my car, totalling both my vehicle & my back in the process, giving me what doctors consider a "lifetime injury", and if that's not enough, we might now lose our dream house because of the financial repercussions. For something that was never my fault to begin with.
Live. Isn't. Fair.
At the time of my bankruptcy filing, over 75% of my debt was related to medical expenses. When you factor in my college education, over 97% of my debt was related to either medical or education.
I'm not saying I never made a frivolous purchase in my life, but I can honestly say that the vast majority of my debt was related to either medical or education expenses.
And yet these bankruptcies are treated the exact same way as people who just run up their credit cards and live it up on consumer debt.
Not. Fair.
They really need to come up with two separate categories for bankruptcies. One category for responsible people who just hit some hard times. And one for irresponsible people who just lived beyond their means and can't (or don't) manage their money well.
It's just so frustrating. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I'm sad. I'm disappointed. And I feel a little guilty that because of my history, FireMan is upset about us possibly not getting the house. It sucks.
It's not over yet. Our realtor is working with us to see what options we have. Apparently we might qualify for a rural home development program, which would cover our entire downpayment (why didn't he tell us about this before?!?), and there are some other loan options we might qualify for. But for right now our lending is stalled until we figure something out.
On a sort-of positive note, the inspection was this morning, and the house passed. The inspector didn't find anything that we didn't already know about. Yay! So that's good.
Now we just have to see if this lending thing will work out.
Thanks for checking in.
They nearly doubled the down payment they would require from us. Money we don't have on hand.
Why, you ask? Because I have a bankruptcy in my past.
It was all I could do to keep from crying at work when he told me.
See, remember me telling you about the car accident I was in in 2002? The one where I hurt my back? And then the surgery I had in 2006? Well, long story short, after a three year legal battle with the car insurance company, I didn't even get enough money to pay my medical bills, let alone replace my totalled car, or pay me for lost wages. I was left with thousands of dollars of debt, mostly to different doctors.
By the way, I definitely do not recommend Nationwide Insurance. I guarantee they spent more in legal fees over the course of three years than we were even asking for in the settlement. I just wanted to get my bills paid.
So, in 2006, after the surgery bills were added on top of the other bills I'd been struggling to pay for the previous four years, I couldn't make it anymore. I spent about six months living off of Totinos Pizzas (they were only $1 at Remkes) and water. Sometimes KoolAid or some mac-n-cheese for a treat. A special treat would be the 79-cent cheeseburger from the McDonald's down the street. No cable. No shopping. No frills. At. All. I remember when I finally met with a bankruptcy attorney, and she sent me to a financial counselor (as required by the bankruptcy laws). He said he didn't know how I'd made it like that for so long. But I was determined to pay off my debts. I tried. I really, really tried. But the bills got to be too much. I couldn't make it any longer.
So... I'm in a car accident in 2002. A woman accelerates thru a red light, t-boning my car, totalling both my vehicle & my back in the process, giving me what doctors consider a "lifetime injury", and if that's not enough, we might now lose our dream house because of the financial repercussions. For something that was never my fault to begin with.
Live. Isn't. Fair.
At the time of my bankruptcy filing, over 75% of my debt was related to medical expenses. When you factor in my college education, over 97% of my debt was related to either medical or education.
I'm not saying I never made a frivolous purchase in my life, but I can honestly say that the vast majority of my debt was related to either medical or education expenses.
And yet these bankruptcies are treated the exact same way as people who just run up their credit cards and live it up on consumer debt.
Not. Fair.
They really need to come up with two separate categories for bankruptcies. One category for responsible people who just hit some hard times. And one for irresponsible people who just lived beyond their means and can't (or don't) manage their money well.
It's just so frustrating. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I'm sad. I'm disappointed. And I feel a little guilty that because of my history, FireMan is upset about us possibly not getting the house. It sucks.
It's not over yet. Our realtor is working with us to see what options we have. Apparently we might qualify for a rural home development program, which would cover our entire downpayment (why didn't he tell us about this before?!?), and there are some other loan options we might qualify for. But for right now our lending is stalled until we figure something out.
On a sort-of positive note, the inspection was this morning, and the house passed. The inspector didn't find anything that we didn't already know about. Yay! So that's good.
Now we just have to see if this lending thing will work out.
Thanks for checking in.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Choice: the ultimate freedom
We always have a choice. We may not like the choices we have. They may be difficult choices. But we always have a choice.
I don't like the phrase "I didn't have a choice". Yes, you did. Even in the most dire of situations, you have a choice how you are going to react to it.
To deny yourself choice, is to take away your own freedom. No one can take your choices from you. Only you can take them away from yourself.
"You leave me no choice". Not true. You may not like the choices you are left with, but you still have a choice. You still get to decide how you are going to act.
When we are slighted, we decide how to react. Are we going to get angry, blow everything out of proportion and ruin the day of everyone around us? Are we going to take it all in with grace, forgive the person for slighting us, and do our best to not let it affect our mood? Somewhere in between?
See... you have a choice.
But Jodi, you say. Such-and-such happened to me and I had no choice at all. Now my life is ruined. I'm the victim. Blah, blah, blah.
I understand. I really do. But you still have a choice how you will react to the circumstances in your life.
Still think I don't understand?
In 2002 I was in a car accident. A lady ran a red light and T-boned my car going approx. 50 mph. My car was totalled, and I was injured. I had no choice. I didn't choose to be hit by another driver.
However...
I chose to call the police. I chose not to request an ambulance (mistake). I chose to drive myself to the hospital. I chose not to go on disability. I chose to continue working. I chose to continue to do whatever I could to lead a normal life. I chose to follow the doctors' advice and postpone surgery for as long as possible. I chose to smile even when I was in pain. I chose not to take this accident out on those around me. I chose to forgive the woman who hit me. The list goes on and on.
We do have choices. Even when it seems we don't.
So the next time you're sitting there feeling as if you don't have any choice, think about it. Think about it long & hard if necessary. Find your choices, then make them.
I don't like the phrase "I didn't have a choice". Yes, you did. Even in the most dire of situations, you have a choice how you are going to react to it.
To deny yourself choice, is to take away your own freedom. No one can take your choices from you. Only you can take them away from yourself.
"You leave me no choice". Not true. You may not like the choices you are left with, but you still have a choice. You still get to decide how you are going to act.
When we are slighted, we decide how to react. Are we going to get angry, blow everything out of proportion and ruin the day of everyone around us? Are we going to take it all in with grace, forgive the person for slighting us, and do our best to not let it affect our mood? Somewhere in between?
See... you have a choice.
But Jodi, you say. Such-and-such happened to me and I had no choice at all. Now my life is ruined. I'm the victim. Blah, blah, blah.
I understand. I really do. But you still have a choice how you will react to the circumstances in your life.
Still think I don't understand?
In 2002 I was in a car accident. A lady ran a red light and T-boned my car going approx. 50 mph. My car was totalled, and I was injured. I had no choice. I didn't choose to be hit by another driver.
However...
I chose to call the police. I chose not to request an ambulance (mistake). I chose to drive myself to the hospital. I chose not to go on disability. I chose to continue working. I chose to continue to do whatever I could to lead a normal life. I chose to follow the doctors' advice and postpone surgery for as long as possible. I chose to smile even when I was in pain. I chose not to take this accident out on those around me. I chose to forgive the woman who hit me. The list goes on and on.
We do have choices. Even when it seems we don't.
So the next time you're sitting there feeling as if you don't have any choice, think about it. Think about it long & hard if necessary. Find your choices, then make them.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Looks like P90x is a bust
We started P90x last Monday, working out in the evenings after FireGirl went to bed.
Day 1 went great.
Day 2 went great.
Day 3 went great.
Day 4, while at work, I had two bad back spasms. Decided to take the day off from working out.
Day 5, still experiencing some minor back pain, made that a rest day too.
Day 6, started the workout. About four exercises in, had a small back spasm. Sat out the rest of that exercise and started up again with the next one. Another small back spasm. Rinse, repeat. Decided I'd better stop before I have a bad one.
Grrr. I was really excited about this workout program. Especially after the first three days went so well. Now I'm pretty bummed. I'm glad I tried, but with my history of back problems (car accident in 2002, surgery in 2006), I have to be careful.
I guess I'm just disappointed because I've been able to do so much since my surgery, that was unthinkable before the surgery. When I'm hit with that harsh reminder that my injury is considered a "lifetime" injury, it means just that. I will be dealing with this injury in one way or another for the rest of my life.
Guess I'll just go back to eating salads (blech!) and trying to be more active in little ways.
{sigh}
Day 1 went great.
Day 2 went great.
Day 3 went great.
Day 4, while at work, I had two bad back spasms. Decided to take the day off from working out.
Day 5, still experiencing some minor back pain, made that a rest day too.
Day 6, started the workout. About four exercises in, had a small back spasm. Sat out the rest of that exercise and started up again with the next one. Another small back spasm. Rinse, repeat. Decided I'd better stop before I have a bad one.
Grrr. I was really excited about this workout program. Especially after the first three days went so well. Now I'm pretty bummed. I'm glad I tried, but with my history of back problems (car accident in 2002, surgery in 2006), I have to be careful.
I guess I'm just disappointed because I've been able to do so much since my surgery, that was unthinkable before the surgery. When I'm hit with that harsh reminder that my injury is considered a "lifetime" injury, it means just that. I will be dealing with this injury in one way or another for the rest of my life.
Guess I'll just go back to eating salads (blech!) and trying to be more active in little ways.
{sigh}
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