Helping Me Breathe

My beautiful, free willed, loving friend took a 6 hour bus ride today to come see me for the weekend. Damn, I feel pretty lucky she did that FOR me.

I posted that blog entry yesterday pretty nervous about being open to the public about not feeling so great about this. But the amount of support I have gotten today is unreal. People are reaching out to me all over the place, like you wouldn’t believe. I spent so much time thinking yesterday I needed to make myself feel better. When really all I had to do was say it and today everyone in my life did it for me.

Through out this entire experience I have been so pleasantly surprised by the amount of people that have reached out. The people that are close to me have done such extraordinary things and even others have gone out of their way to say and do things to make me feel better. You don’t realize what a difference it makes till your having a rough day and you have 7 texts says “I love you blog” and that alone will get you by or you get a phone call from an old friend who you haven’t talked to in years.

I was hurt around 10PM. My boyfriend was in the car before I knew it and drove through out the night to get to me as soon as he could. I was taken to x-rays, MRI, and catscans where I layed still, alone, and in pain. And then he was there. He sat with me through out the night waiting for the morning surgery. I was on so many meds I had trouble breathing. So he sat next to me, all night, helping me breathe. The machine would beep and then he would grab my hand “breathe, Sarah, breath”

Everyone keeps telling me I need to learn to ask for help. But I don’t really think I need to ask whether it’s a bus ride, a blog read, a text message, or literally helping me breathe. I know you’re all there and that’s beyond helpful.

“it's not fair it happened to me”

I was pretty mad at the world today. I got by hit by the “it’s not fair this happened to me” feeling. Just about everything I saw and did made me more mad, more frustrated. Completely little, unimportant things.

SO MAD!

1. Spilling my egg when I tried to put it on the table.
2. My running shoes in the teachers cabinet I found at work.
3. The ambulance noises that kept running by the school building and causing me to completely zone out.
4. My friend telling me she went to the gym today.
5. My cab driver speeding down fifth ave
6. The lady next to me at PT who was running on the tredmill

I figured after my day went by I would feel better. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but that doesn’t mean I had to stay that way. But apparently the “it’s not fair it happened to me” is a feeling that’s not so easy to kick.

So, I decided I was going to have to take action to really knock these thoughts out. I chose to take a little ride, feel a little freedom and independence. So, I whipped out my scooter and got some independence back. Kinda cool right? Pretty easy to keep up with the kiddos this way. Here’s the thing ,even with a little more independence and ease, I still felt like it wasn’t fair this happened to me.

My parents arrived at the hospital to the sounds of me screaming from pain when they were setting my ankle back in place FOR THE SECOND TIME. The were immediately told by the doctor that I suffered a SEVERE injury and was going to need two SERIOUS surgeries. I kept hearing the words SEVERE and SERIOUS over and over.

So, I’m not going to sugar coat this one. I have a SEVERE and SERIOUS injury. And some days, like today, suck. And on days like today I will always do things to try and make myself feel better, like ride around on a scooter. No matter how MAD I was today, no matter how SEVERE this injury is, I know that tomorrow will be better and I will eventually kick the “it's not fair it happened to me” feeling. And for that, I am so thankful. But that doesn’t mean that today didn’t suck.

The Power of Healing

I woke up today thinking -- I won't blog today. I'm not doing anything interesting. Just heading back to New York City from a relaxing spring break and getting settled back in. I'll go to physical therapy like usual. Nothing worth writing about.

Until I saw this in my mailbox.. The "Welcome Booklet" from the Boston Marathon that I

had been hoping to receive for the last 3 years. Today... I hated that ugly booklet. I hated that booklet so much I threw it o n the floor and stormed off to PT.

My Physical Therapist said this when I told her " Wow, t hat sucks. Sarah, that really sucks." And you know what? It made me feel better. Instead of sugar coating it or trying to make a bad situation good, she just said it. It sucks. With that being said, we still had to play and tug on my ankle for an hour.

The first thing she did was take my measurements.

My goal by 4/9/2011: Minimum of a 90 degree angle with my ankle.

Today: I hit 90 degrees. If not a little past!!! GO ME.

I saw my foot at 90 degrees on the hospital bed, but definitely not facing the right way. As soon as the doctors undressed me and calmed me down they had to set it back to place. They asked my dear friend Megan to leave the room for this. They told me it would be more pain than I had ever felt. They weren't lying. I'll never forget it. I'll never forget hitting 90 degrees the right way today either.

When I got home I saw a note on my fridge from my aunt. It said "believe in the power of healing." So yeah, I won't be reading this Welcome Booklet this year. But one year, I will.

Out with the old, In with the new

That's me, an hour before the accident. (Hey, lawyers: please note there is NO alcohol around) I was decked out in Valentines Day clothing and making sweet heart cookies for my valentine. My biggest problem at that moment in time: I wasn’t going to see my Valentine on Valentines Day. POOR ME. I realized when I saw this picture I don't have these clothes anymore. I told my mom this immediately and we made the bold move to go to the mall...

The mall consisted of

1) walking breaks
2) elevators
3) Finding the pefect works pants (they can fit
under the boot, but aren’t as tight as leggings)
4) My mom carrying my bags.

Was it a piece of cake? No, it was a work out. I think when I’m off crutches I’ll probably miss the days where I can shop and work out at the same time.

On the way home my mom asked me if I knew what happened to those clothes, I explained to her that the first thing they did when I got to the hospital was cut my clothes off. A young resident had the job of cutting off my pants. This made me really upset because those were my favorite. I looked at him and told him “he had the best job tonight.” I laughed, as did he. Then I looked down saw my entire leg for the first time. Wow.

I stopped worrying about my pants.

I liked the new ones I got today better anyway. And guess what else? I saw my Valentine on Valentine’s Day.