When I started my blog I had hopes of being just a bit more disciplined about writing. So, ok, I haven't done the best job, but at least now I have a good excuse. On November 15th, my car was struck by a garbage truck that ran the red light. I remember hearing a horn, I remember looking to my left, and then I remember no more until my car came to a stop. You know it's funny what you think about after you have an accident. I literally crawled out of my car because I had to go to work and I was wondering why I hurt so much. I looked around the inside of my car and was amazed at how much broken glass there was and surprised that both my air bags had deployed. Who was that woman who called 911? And thank you Eric for holding me and telling me that everything was going to be OK. I always wondered what it was like to ride in an ambulance and it isn't fun at all. I thought that having pneumonia or natural childbirth was the worst pain that I had ever experienced, but I have to put broken ribs in my top three. The first few days in the hospital were the easiest and the worst - pain & sleep, pain & eat, pain. Walking and breathing with a fiery knife in my side. My poor car - my Nissan Sentra - I named her Ruth. Totalled. I never saw my car again. My sister went and picked up my personal items and seeing the car made her cry. A few more inches and I wouldn't have survived; such calm and peace knowing that dying is ok. So here I am, what? 5 weeks later, and a few days away from Christmas, and my rib is healing, and my neck and back are aching, and I have a headache that won't go away and I survived. And sometimes I can't sleep and I get nervous around large trucks, and I clench my teeth at the intersection where my accident occurred, and I cry, but the worst part are the dreams. In my dreams, I hear the garbage truck's horn and I wake up shaking and crying because I know what's going to happen. So pray for me as my mind and body continue to heal and thank God that he let me live.
