I have chosen to write about Mama Kat's prompt #3: Describe a difficult moment that you survived.
On 4-1-01 I survived a major car accident. While in Las Vegas with friends, a woman ran a red light and broadsided us. I was sitting in the "way back" of our Expedition -- with no seat belt (another story). Upon impact, I was thrown into the side window, breaking it with my then-135lb-body and was partially ejected from the vehicle. I suffered a broken clavicle, partially collapsed lung, too many broken ribs to see or count, and numerous "minor" bumps and bruises. That night in the hospital, my husband picked red paint chips (from the other vehicle) out of my hair. Over the next few days, he used a borrowed set of tweezers to pull glass out of my back. I stayed in that shitty (another story!) hospital for 5 days. But, I survived.
The physical part was actually the "easiest" thing to overcome. At first, I was determined to get better FAST. I guess someone forgot to tell my body what my plan was! As my entire track-off time came and went and everyone else settled back into their own daily routines I was spending countless hours on my couch, staring at the tv and zoned out on medication. I began to feel the sadness overwhelming me. I felt like a freaking nuisance to my own family. I learned to not ask for things and Frank decided that he should make up my lunch every morning, wrap it in Saran wrap and leave it in the fridge. Eventually, I stopped eating even that. I had no appetite -- for living much less eating.
Then one day, it all changed. Frank came home and sat next to me on the couch. "How are you doing today?" his usual question. "The same," I mumbled. I had become accustomed to automatic responses and no eye contact, I didn't notice that he was holding one arm behind his back. In a second he whipped out his arm, opened up his hand, and right there in his palm sat the tiniest, cutest, most adorable puppy I had ever seen in my life! My eyes instantly came back to life and I rushed to take the little guy into my arms. I immediately snuggled him into my neck and began to cry. A puppy! For me! We fell in love instantly.
I named him Scooter and he became my motivation to get better and get my life back. I had to feed him, bathe him, potty train him and entertain him all day. Sure, we slept alot (side note to Steph: Ohmygod! Frank, he won't wake up! Is he breathing? Ohmygod! Do something! LOL) but having my own little "charge" jump started my recovery.
Scooter is 8 years old now and he's still my best little buddy. I'm still caring for him (right now we are battling his first ever encounter with FLEAS!!) and he's still protecting me (and sleeping). Sure, he's a funny and neurotic kind of guy, but look who his mama is! A lot changed in my life in the years following the accident, more heartache, stress, and tragedy (I ended up losing my teaching position and Darlene was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes). And on particularly rough days, I always had Scooter to come home to. He knows when I need a snuggle (even at 6lbs he still lies across my neck!) or when to distract me with his attention seeking behavior -- hey! look at me! I'm the one with FLEAS! Can you pay attention, puhleeze! Where would I be without him??? Love you, little guy!