i guess the time has come for a little pity party. i feel like crying big ole goober sobs to get it all out, but only those few little tears fall from time to time. and in one breath i feel so grateful, knowing i escaped death and made it out alive, while in my next breath i feel so shamed and irritated that this happened to me. it feels a bit like i won the lottery, but they're holding my winnings hostage and don't know when they'll be released.
today i went to the specialist. what he said scared me. numerous times, over and over again, he repeated what a major deal my injuries are, and how very careful i have to be if i ever want use of my left hand again. he didn't sugar-coat anything; flat out said: you have suffered a very major injury. when told i'd had 4 liters of blood transfused, he looked away and winced. when he deciphered the czech paperwork and realized the extent of my injuries, it was no more fun and games. he had me frightened for my future. minimal two years recovery, and 6 weeks of absolute nothingness if i ever want to recover. i managed to sever the most important nerves in my hand, along with the artery which has now only 1/2 use due to them directing it through another vein, and all those tendons that need to heal to help me have use of my fingers.
i was taken to genk to have a brace made. a brace which will limit my movement, yet give me more security. i was plastered up and can pick up my new brace saturday. the guy told me the pain can remain for the duration of my recovery. i was also told that my recovery could be from 0-100%. it's not an injury they have any way of knowing the outcome. i feel like a miserable failure, though i did nothing wrong.
my son has seen too much and had to endure too much in the past days. he is fearful of mama, fearful of snoring, fearful of ghosts, fearful of anything and everything. his white face as he ran to get papa to help after finding his mama covered in blood keeps repeating itself in my mind, and i try to understand what that must have felt like to a seven-year-old. at nearly 40, i was scared enough. but seven? he's seen too much, and the world frightens him because of it. all the security i have worked his entire life to create for him has been stripped away. i can only hope time will heal the nightmares he endures.
my in-laws, my omam and opap, have been a world of help to me. i think i would have fallen to pieces if they hadn't been here the last days. i feel so alone, so foolish, so helpless as oma ushers me off to bed to rest, and yet, it is what i need. a little break from the pain, from the drain emotionally this has taken. they have given jari attention and time, taken care of the laundry, and helped with dinner. even more, they have been a source of support as they hold down the fort i can no longer manage alone. they have been through enough medical traumas in life to truly understand how i am feeling, and offer me understanding which i seem to need right now. they have done the dirty work of being my personal assistant, chauffer, housekeeper, cook, and child care providers. how can i ever thank them?
legally, i don't know where we stand. opa is setting those wheels in motion. i want nothing more than the travel organisation to be held responsible for not inspecting the house thoroughly enough. i don't want another family to have this same disaster overcome them during the family time that is supposed to be most relaxing and fun. i don't want someone else to have to feel this insecurity, or this pain. cuz it hurts. emotionally, yes, but physically it doeesn't let up either. and will it end? or is my life doomed to taking pills in order to live? and how can i feel grateful when the ouch sometimes stops me in my tracks and i about faint in a heap of sweat on the floor?
i want to hold my baby in my arms and give him assurance that mommy isn't scary. that i'm just the same, with a funny looking arm. but when i take him in my arms, he doesn't gain assurance. he feels instead discomfort.
what happens when kaeden returns from america on friday? how will i manage both boys home all day with noplace to go and nothing to do? i could barely manage them during the school year when our bikes were an option to escape. and yet, they still have a mommy. so many people have told me how lucky i am to be alive. i'm not sure it is luck. i think god knew my kids needed their mom. i think i have an inner strength which surfaces when it's most needed. i think my husband deserves to have a wife to share a life together. and my parents and brothers deserve to have the daughter and sister they've known the past 38 years.
i am grateful. but i wish the tears would just come and release the pity and fear and then let me move on.