Perspective. It's something we all need to have in order to make it through tough situations. It's something we all need to maintain compassion and empathy for those around us. It's something we all need in order to live a life that's worth living. Needless to say, this past year has brought much perspective into my life.
This time one year ago, give or take a few hours, I knew my life was about to change. As I exited what was once my van, I hurried to my daughter who I was hoping was unharmed from the impact. I found her scared, but totally unscathed. Blood rushed from my head, my vision went black, the van sat in ruins, I was obviously late for work, calling for help was impossible as my cellphone sat beside my bed at home... you name it, it was happening right there in that moment, but my perspective held strong. I knew life could be much worse.
In the hours that passed, we were rushed to the emergency room where I overheard many scary conversations.
She's lost a lot of blood. Her face is unrecognizable with the laceration on the right side. We need to run more scans. The wood could cause infection to spread. The optical nerve is severed. This is going to be a long road to recovery. I heard these things and my mind drifted to dark places. Then, I saw my family. My husband beside me, parents, friends, and many acquaintances were surrounding me in prayer and with their presence. My perspective stabilized and I knew life could be much worse.
Days went by with multiple doctors in and out of my room. Surgery, stitches, bandages, nightmares of objects flying at my face, indescribable frustration not being able to open my eye, IV after IV, the fear of looking scary to my own children, fear that I had let down my students at school.... these were the things that consumed me. And, then I was placed in a room next to a woman that was much worse off. The lady's health was slowly deteriorating and I knew that the life she led up to that point was not one similar to mine. I was surrounded by family, told that things WOULD get better, and I knew that I would get back home and eventually back to what I used to call "normal."
Once home, I remained on the IV and became frustrated at having to carry those medicine balls around every where I went. I had my sweet, home health nurse come to visit weekly and I made constant trips back to UK to my marvelous doctors. I looked different and was uncomfortable with myself and the way others looked at me. I hated the fact that children were scared when they passed by. There were going to be so many surgeries and my vision was not improving. I remember thinking about how different my life would be with only one working eye. I panicked any time I remembered that I couldn't see anymore. I panicked when I knew that I wasn't going to be able to teach my students the things they needed to be taught. I panicked when my own kids struggled to find happiness and suffered with anxiety. However, on and off again, I would remember to think about the big picture. I had health insurance unlike many people around the world. I had trained, professional doctors working to put me back together unlike people in third world countries. I looked different, but what did appearance matter? There were people born with much greater deformities and spent their entire lives dealing with it. I was lucky to have the opportunity to improve with surgery. Yes, I was blind in one eye, but at least I had one eye! Not to mention, it was capable of seeing perfectly. I was blessed with a job that placed a very capable young lady who desired to teach in my spot while I healed. Even though I wasn't physically able, I was still able to mentally plan those lessons to be sure nothing got left out. My own children were healthy and time would heal their pain and fears. And, they would probably be better equipped for future tragedy because of this experience. Perspective.
Months passed. Days were better than others. I had ups and downs as I've recounted in previous posts. I was most definitely healing on the outside, but I can honestly say that the last month or so have been the hardest for me. I've never been one to stay down for long and am usually able to find perspective fairly quick, but my recent thoughts and feelings have kept me down. For once in my life, I can honestly say that I understand what it feels like to be depressed. I'm sure it had something to do with the one year mark approaching. I'm sure my mind is still processing everything that has occurred in the past year. Or, maybe it's just because life is finally back to normal now. Surgeries are over for the most part and my check ups are far and few between. I'm working, being a mom, being a wife, sister, daughter, friend and juggling life like I did before. This time two weeks ago, I would have told you that I wouldn't have been able to handle this day. Driving to work wouldn't have been an option as I would have relived the events of December 2, 2013. But, I am happy and thankful to say that I've regained that perspective again. Yes, this year has been hard and I will probably never totally heal mentally or physically, but I am committing to keeping that perspective that I know is so crucial in life. There are abandoned and starving children as I write. There are people who struggle with drug and alcohol addiction every second of every day. There are others that have incurable illnesses and deal with imaginable pain. But, by the grace of God, I have control of my life and how I handle the negative things that are thrown at me. I have hope and I have been created for a purpose.
I'm marking this year as a success. I'm marking today as a victory. And, I'm holding on to the perspective that I can help make this world a better place no matter how bad my situation may be.
