January 13, 2012

"the measurement of luck"

Before saying anything else; I am fine. There are still some bruises, strains and a heavy head from a mild concussion, but I am smiling. After a brilliant first week into the fresh year, it appears, I was taking a few steps too many at the same time. Friday morning, instead of making my way into the kitchen, I slipped and crashed, back down on the concrete floor in our bedroom. No stranger to silly accidents, this was really frightening. For a couple of minutes, I simply didn't feel anything below my neck. The husband immediately called for an ambulance and we did the complete thing; paramedics, a stretcher and the ER. Across the city with a suspected broken cervical. And this was, what stood in the room for the next eight hours. "Do not move. At all." I was left, stretched out on one of those unfriendly hospital beds; rotating between some hallway, empty rooms and the next hallway. I don't know if they have been overly busy, if there had been a enormous number of other emergencies, probably they did the best possible. What I do know though, after three hours, I started crying like a baby. Incredibly scared, not able to move, not sure how threatening that injury was, there seemed to be no way out. It is impossible to predict, how we might act under stress or panic. Those tears, and I am usually not quite comfortable when crying in front of others, never came for long, but still, they did come. Suddenly, I didn't care about people passing by or even touching my arm, whispering things like: "It'll be fine." Those tears brought, at least, some relief to the emotional fight going on in my mind. Over the time all the fear started to turn into a good portion of anger. "How could they do that to me? For God's sake, who do they believe I am?" And when, late at night, we finally received the results, including the message: "No fractures.", I friendly thanked the doctor, telling her, that I respect the hard job she is doing, but that I had been in real panic for hours. She answered: "I am sorry, but I didn't know." Strangely enough, I believed her. Back at home and a week ahead now, I am starting to make peace with the whole story. I am glad things turned out to be good and frankly, I am glad to still be around. A friend yesterday wrote to me: "We are never given more than we can handle." I don't know if she is right, but those words gave me some extra strength. To a more easy weekend and to my love, who stood beside me through this horrible week.

3 comments:

  1. Oh dear I feel so sorry for you! And at the same time I'm glad you are fine! running en stressing around the house can be dangerous, most accidents happen at home, but off course you know that, sorry for that one ;-)
    I reconize your story, I've been in hospitals a lot with my mum and I know how you must have feel. I was not the one in the hospital bed, but standing every time right beside it, holding her hand. Docters often do not know what they put you trought! Hope you have a relaxing weekend!

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  2. Dearest Annton,
    I went through many emotions reading about what you went through. At first I smiled, thinking about all my own silly accidents. But then of course, it turned to worry, and finally relief. One sometimes wonder if the medical education shouldn't include a bit more psychology. Feeling safe and well looked after is equally important as healing. I believe, it's indeed a large part of healing.

    Glad that you had your loved one with you all the time, and I hope you're doing a lot better. I'm sorry I didn't see your post before now.
    Many warm thoughts to you, Annton!
    Love,
    Lilli

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  3. @Céline and Lilli. Thank you so much for your kind words. They have deeply touched me. As I have written, hospitals, silly accidents and serious stuff, are no stranger to me. Still, it is weird, how we suddenly jump back, becoming a helpless child again, when the situation seems familiar. @Lilli. You're post about leaving and breaking the circle, changed a lot in the moment.

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