fall and rise and . . .

     It is so hard to not ask for more.  I have been so blessed even before this incident happened.  I have 2 beautiful children.  A loving extended family, really good friends and a fantastic husband.  I was having a charmed life and then all of this happened.
     Even in this, we are blessed.  God was good and everything worked out so that Jarrad still has use of his upper body.  Jarrad didn't have any complications.  When I was worrying about finances, we got some breathing room.  Jarrad seemed to be doing so much better.  I felt like we had a plan.
     Then the plan is yanked out from under us.  We can't go to rehab because of the fracture on his wrist.  Really?  You are telling  me that all folks with spinal cord injuries ONLY have a spinal cord injury and NO OTHER BROKEN BODY PARTS???
     So, until his arm heals in another 8 weeks - he can't put weight on it till then - he can't go to acute rehab but can go to subacute rehab.  THEN, he can go to acute rehab and learn how to do all these things that we take for granted - like moving from your bed to a chair.
     Ok, I get it.  But it seems like a backwards step and was really discouraging. 
    And then comes my army of friends.  (YEAH!!)  See the problem is, the acute rehab facility doesn't know Jarrad like we do.  They don't even know him like the therapists at Duke do.  When one of the therapists heard, her comment was, "Do they know he can use his elbow?"  So we are going to try another facility.  Is it one of the best in the country?  It doesn't have that label but they seem more willing to take Jarrad now and we think that is what is best for us.
     He doesn't want to go back.  He wants to come home.  He wants to get back to work.  He wants to compete in the Paralympics!!!
     I don't know where we are going or when or what the future holds.  But I do know that we loved, we are supported.  We don't just have family but we have a community of friends.  I don't think that any of them are going anywhere.

think and reflect

     My posts are going to pretty raw for awhile.  I have always felt that writing is cathartic and I post it just because maybe someday it will help someone.  You may want to skip reading these posts as they will be about my feelings and thoughts.  They won't be updates on my family but rather my ups and downs in emotions.  My brother encouraged me to go back to the beginning and write what I remember; he seems to think it will help and has promised that he will read it.  For all he is my little brother, he is pretty fierce when he wants to be so I am kind of scared NOT to write. 

     It is funny how the mind works.  Jarrad told me to call 911.  My neighbor jumped the fence and his wife ran from their yard to ours.  As soon as I knew the ambulance was on the way, I knew I needed to get off the phone and call my friends.  I knew that Chris and Cara wouldn't hesitate and they didn't.  For me, time was incredibly slow.  Cara told me that the ambulance came quickly but I thought it was taking forever.  And yet, everything was so surreal.  I truly felt as if I was dreaming.  Any minute, he would get up and say that hurt.  Detached.  That is a good word but it doesn't explain the welling sense of panic.
     I was asked questions.  It was hard for me to answer.  I felt as if I had to pull my eyes away from Jarrad to whoever asked me the question before I could answer.  They were simple, yes or no.  Name.  Birthdate.  And then Jarrad moaned.  It came from deep within him and is the scariest thing I have ever heard. 
     Jarrad called for me and I held his hand; he asked me to recite Psalm 23.  I have known this verse since I was in elementary school and I could not for the life of me recall it.  I felt like I had failed him right out of the gate.  He is the strong one; the brave one.  He is the tiger, the pit bull, the charging bear in this family.  It is his nature to protect those around him and when he asked me for the comfort of a verse I have known all of my life, I couldn't give it to him.
     Instead, all I could repeat was, "Our Father, who art in Heaven."  Over and over.  So very far away in heaven.  I wonder if that is how He felt as he turned away from His son on the cross.  Like He had failed.  Am I being sacrilegious?  I don't think so.  It brings me a sense of comfort to know that He has felt what I felt. Still feel. 
Isn't it funny how the mind works?

take a fall

Last week at this time, my life, OUR life changed.  Family and friends have been following what happened so don't think this is new; it is just my reflections of the past week.  I hope that by writing all of this it will bring about some type of catharsis.
Today is bad because I look at the clock and mark what was happening at this time.  From now on, the idea of a few moments that can change your life.
So
Last week at this time, I think I was waiting for an ambulance or maybe, I was in the ambulance.  Yes, I think that was it.  I was in the ambulance as it raced down 85, counting my husband's eyelid flickers.  All I could think of is that as long as he was blinking, he was alive.  Perhaps now, I am in the ER, watching as his clothes are cut from him and trying to think of the answers to questions that are being asked of me.  They weren't even important questions.  Just "do you want to stay here?"  Yes.  "Do you want us to call anyone?" No.  That was because a part of me just wanted him to get up.  And to call someone meant that he wouldn't.  I know, it doesn't make sense.  I am fortunate that I have friends who are wiser than I who came anyway. 
And now, I wait.  I just wait.
Waiting was hard.  Waiting is numb.  Waiting is surreal.  I was never good at waiting.
Now, I am waiting in the waiting room.  Someone keeps turning on the TV and then leaving.  We talk.  We pray.  A chaplain comes - he has no idea what he is doing and can't answer my questions.  Another friend comes.  They should give her the salary of the chaplain. I am comforted by women who love me and Jarrad.  A couple of guy friends come.  More support.
The doctor comes.  Are we all family.  Yes.  Firm.  He is taken aback but tells us all anyway.  He is a nice doctor.
Later.  I go home.  It is empty and I cry some more.
I am tired of crying.
People lived lives in this amount of time. In the amount of time it takes me to describe what happened in a few paragraphs,  babies were born, people were married, and . . . I know that I am lucky; we are lucky.  To contemplate the other, well, I don't.  I shove it away.  But it haunts me. 
I don't like waiting. It is hard.
Very.