Speedy Recovery -- An Oxymoron?

Warning: Today's post is pretty personal.

Like jumbo shrimp and dark light
speedy recovery might be an oxymoron.


It'll be nine months this Thursday since this happened.
And I'm still not recovered.
I'm still not medication free.
I'm still not pain free.

Don't get me wrong.
I'm still grateful. 
Just look at that van; I could have been killed.
Yesterday, however, it hit me head-on that my car is a relapse trigger. 
Wonder what took me so long . . .

So here's the story. John noticed that the tires on our new used van (hey, another oxymoron) were bald in the front. Worn almost all the way down. So Monday morning at 7 am, I went in to the dealer that sold it to us, hoping that an alignment would be covered under the bumper-to-bumper warranty we bought. I figured while I was there, I'd have that fan directional fixed and get my "free" oil change that they added on to the price of the car. But no, turns out they don't take walk-up customers. I pleaded for them to let the van stay there because I didn't feel safe driving it, but I was turned away and told to call the sales department at 9. Ouch. 

So between peace-class lessons, I called and talked to Cody, who told me to call his manager, Ruben. I called Ruben, who promised to call back and didn't. I called him back and got Robert, who promised to call back in ten minutes and didn't. He did leave a message telling me to bring the car in, and evidently he told Tony to call me, and at 5 pm that's what Tony did. He told me that the warranty we bought wouldn't be covering the alignment or tires (big surprise) but that he could get that part ordered and schedule me for that oil change. Later this week, I got an email confirming my appointment on Saturday at 10 am. And a phone message telling me to call and make an appointment. With Johnny. Confused yet? When I got there, I was told to wait in a line and stayed there for 15 minutes and that wasn't the right line ... from what I could understand, I didn't even have an oil-change appointment ... and that's when 
I lost it. 
Don't cry. 
Do. not. cry. 
Don't let this car guy see you cry!

It felt like I was colliding with people who didn't care about me, about my recovery, about my safety ... and I found myself lying unconscious on Sunset and waiting for the ambulance all over again. 
I got so panicked, 
I couldn't breathe, 
and I felt so unsafe, 
even though it's been nine months. 
Almost a year.

It might sound weird. Okay, yeah, it sounds a little crazy.
I'm pretty sure that the guy who finally helped me thinks I'm nuts.
Not nuts, Mr. Service Guy, just in recovery.
And there's nothing speedy about it.
I'm overly tired a lot because my neck is still kinked 
and I can't remember the last time I slept through the night.
Joy has found its way back into my heart,
{and for that I am oh, so grateful}
but some days I still struggle. To smile, for real.
To understand and navigate my new normal. 
To forgive and move on.
Saturday was one of those days.

In the end, it took about ten minutes to replace the part.
I still didn't get that free oil change,
but I did get two business cards from the service guy who thinks I'm a loon. 
Probably one for each of my personalities.
I did call to apologize for my impatience, but I got stuck in a computer-generated vortex (If you know your party's extension, dial 4) and couldn't get through. 
Yep, it was one of those days.

On a happy note, Joshua's band took first place in their first marching contest of the 2013 season, so now I have a new entry for my gratitude journal. 
Think there's even such a thing as a speedy recovery?





9 comments

  1. Oh how my heart goes out to you! I’m not recovering from an accident but I am recovering from a health crisis (and the healing process is taking its sweet time). Thank you for sharing your personal story of the NOT-SO-SPEEDY recovery. I hope that the majority of people who find themselves with a “loon” in front of them realizes that they are seeing someone who is at the crest of an emotional tsunami. It reminds me of the quote, “be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some sort of battle.” Take Care. <3

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  2. Thank you, Laura, for your empathy. I think we take health for granted and I'm sorry to hear that you're struggling in that area. Today I'm a whole lot better, for which I'm grateful, because I'm not very good at the role of the loon. And yet, I'm learning that it's in our vulnerability that we can feel and experience the strength of those around us and our Higher Power, and that's been healing for my heart.

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  3. I don't think any of this sounds crazy or loony. On the contrary, after going through what you've been through, it sounds normal. You're normal but a special kind of normal, a blessed kind of normal. The way you can continue to invest in others while you're still recovering from something so difficult is pretty special.
    ❀ Tammy
    Forever in First

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    1. Thank you, Tammy. I get a lot of joy from consulting and collaborating, so working with friends is a blessing amidst the burden on this road to recovery. Another question that my post makes me ponder is when? When will I really be "recovered?" And when it happens, will I know?? Hmmmmmmm

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  4. Maybe never fully "recovered", but hopefully someday at peace... Like, Tammy it amazes me how you give and give toward others while struggling with your own pain. And make others laugh (a business card for each of your personalities!!!) and find the humor and blessings within such a tragic event. You take care and I'll keep the prayers coming.

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    1. Oh, Tanya, yes, I do feel at peace most days, despite the pain and anxiety. Thank you for your kind words. I could just see in that guy's face that he totally didn't understand my angst. It's actually funny in hind sight ... a little bit anyway.

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  5. Oh Barbara what a blessing it is to be able to share your story with others! Tomorrow marks 5 weeks since Logan's accident and I just wonder when will the tears stop flowing! I cry tears of sadness when I watch him struggle to dress himself or while watching him roll his wheelchair around to look at his crashed car in our driveway when he thinks no one is looking. I cry tears of joy when I saw him laugh and smile when he finally came home from the hospital and was surrounded by friends & neighbors that had stopped by to welcome him home or when he learned to get to the REAL toilet all by himself a few days ago! Most recently, I cried all over again when I watched his excitement when he placed the order and got the email confirming that his new shoes will be delivered on Thursday thanks to the generosity of a complete stranger that just happens to be YOU! Keep sharing your story & we will continue praying for your total healing!

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    1. It's hard to remember 5 weeks because so much time has passed, Kelly, and it does keep marching on. I am so sad that his accident happened during his senior year because that's such a milestone in a young one's life. And yet, is there ever a good time? We will both recover fully, in God's time. I'm feeling like we've connected for a reason and I'm still in awe that God called me to help him and it was shoes that he wanted to use my gift to buy. Shoes. I've spent the last two years focusing on elevating empathy ... and teaching my students about the importance of walking in someone else's shoes ... and Logan decides to buy shoes. Biggest. God. Wink. EVER!

      Sending smiles and continued prayers for you all!

      Barbara

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  6. my heart hurt for you reading this. :( I'm sorry I wasn't home this weekend to come and give you a hug!! I'll look for you today!!

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I really enjoy hearing from my readers; thanks for sharing your reflections with us!