Positively Scarred

When I last left you, I was feeling “meh” about my birthday—a day that I’m usually so excited about. Well, it DID end up being really low-key and I seriously couldn’t have enjoyed it any more than I did. I got to sleep ALL day on my actual birthday which is how I wanted to spend it.

My dad is feeling better. He went back to work yesterday and he’s doing a lot better.

Okay… I won’t beat around the bush…

I’m depressed. Severely. I don’t know how to handle it. I don’t know if this is related to the past year of my life, or to what’s been going on currently. I feel like I’m not in control. I’m stressed and worried about medical bills. It’s taking a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to get approved for Medi Cal and disability. I’m probably going to have to apply for bankruptcy.

I try really hard to be strong, and I have been so strong for the past year. Everyone has complimented me on how well I’ve handled everything and how strong and brave I am. But, to tell you the truth, I’ve feel like that I’ve had to be… That that’s my only decision: Either I be brave and strong, or no one is going to respect me. I do not, nor have I wanted, to be catered to and coddled. I feel like more people would have babied me and that’s not what I want. I amnotmy injury. That is notwho I am.

Another part of my depression, I think, relates to matters of the heart. Now, it’s hard enough being in love with someone who rejects you (my ex) but it’s harder being in love with someone who you can’t have. I’ve tried to tell myself that this should just be a casual thing, that I shouldn’t take it seriously, that I need to be content in the here and now instead of possibly future plans. But no matter which way I slice it, the fact that there is someone out of my reach tugs and pulls at my heart.

The fact of it is… There has never been more potential or chemistry between me and another person. And that really scares me. Because what if this is all built up in my head and none of it is real? I’ve always trusted my heart, and more often than not, it’s been right. But even my heart has sugar-coated things, or put them behind a curtain and shielded truth from me.

I think I’m certifiably insane. There are way too many things that run through my head and the amount of emotions I feel could make your head spin. It makes my stomach hurt.

So why don’t I just rid of the things that are driving me nuts? It’s not that easy. I’d be ripping out my own heart. So as crazy as it all makes me… I can’t just let it go.

But let’s back up, because I was depressed even before matters of the heart were of concern. To be perfectly honest, I think Ihavebeen depressed since the accident, but I just didn’t want to admit it. Maybe believing that I was such a strong, brave, and happy person was what got me through the first year. But now, as I approach the year anniversary of the accident, it’s all catching up with me. I never really mourned. I think I convinced myself to snap out of it, because that would be easier than me admitting that this was such a huge deal and that I was upset.

So, the question now, I guess, is where do I go from here? How do I get myself back?

So here’s what’s been going on in the medical portion of my world:

I went a couple weeks ago for another follow up appointment at my doctor’s office in San Francisco. He seemed really excited and anxious for the next step. So we set up a plan to do my next surgery after the new year begins that way I can spend the holidays at home with my family and friends.

When I go for my surgery in January, I’m going to get basically a 3-for-1 deal. He’s going to do a nerve graft on the right side (or left side, depending on how you’re looking at it) of my hand because I have next to no sensation/feeling in my ring finger or the side of my hand at all. I’m also going to have a bone graft done (and possibly have a metal plate) in my middle finger. Lastly, he’s going to fuse my thumb so it’s straighter because as it is now, I don’t have any real strength behind it.

The nerve for the nerve graft will be taken from one of my feet, and the bone graft will come from my hip. I probably won’t be able to do much for about a week or so after the surgery and I’ll only be in the hospital two nights, which is awesome.

I’m not nervous or scared, but excited. I’m ready for the next step. I’ve been progressing well in my occupational therapy and I actually have a lot of use of my hand, despite the fact I’m missing a finger and can’t use two at all.

On the paperwork side of things: I’m playing hell trying to get medical coverage. I received a form in the mail from the Department of Social Services about a month ago. I filled it out and sent it off in the same day. A week ago I received the exact same form, but this time it had blue ink all over the place basically asking for clarification on what I already told them. It’s been 7 months now and nobody in my position, or with any medical need, should have to fight this hard for coverage.

Also, the person who has been handling my case at the county office (I’m only receiving coverage via the county right now) has not responded to my doctor’s office’s messages about my surgery. So basically there’s no authorization yet and that makes me nervous because the longer they take to authorize it, the longer I have to wait to get the surgery done.

So aside from fighting with the state to get some god damn medical coverage, things are going well.

In the early hours of the morning on April 29th, 2011, I saw my life flash before my eyes. I veered, hit a tree, flipped my car, and proceeded to slide across pavement, dragging my hand along the then-shattered window fragments.

I suffered several broken & fractured bones in my left hand, tore the skin off my palm, and severed the main vein in my hand in half. I was transported two hours away to a hospital that specializes in injuries like mine. After several hours of debriding and having my pinkie amputated, I awoke to begin an incredibly extensive journey that would forever change my life. I awoke to my second chance at life.

Prior to this beginning, I was your typically average 23-year-old female. I worked, hung out with my boyfriend, enjoyed partying, and never thought, “it could happen to me.” But it can. And it does.

On April 29, 2011, I became a drunk driving statistic. I thank the universe everyday that I’m alive and that my biggest injury was to my hand. I’m grateful for the tree I hit, for if I hadn’t, I would have driven off the side of the road, plummeting into the creek below. I’m grateful to the paramedics, EMTs, surgeons, nurses, and police officers who were all involved that fateful night. I’m forever grateful that I’m alive and that I’ve been given the chance to share my story in hopes that it will even prevent one person from making the same mistakes.

You got lucky. Those are three words I’ve heard a lot. But it means something different each time. With those three words I’ve heard resentment, disbelief, hatred, praise, and love. I did not incur any charges against me, including a DUI. Lucky? Maybe. But not the way you think. Instead of that, I get to endure two years of surgeries, pain medication, hospital stays, physical therapy, depression, and frustration. Instead of a DUI, I have a permanent reminder of the mistake I made.

It’s been two months since the accident. I’ve already gone through several surgeries, including a few debridements, a flap surgery, and two skin grafts. I’ve spent a total of 29 days in the hospital; from April 29 - May 19, and June 1 - 8. And I’ve got many more days left to go, off and on, over the next two years. My life has been turned completely upside-down & has been shaken up. I’m managing the best I can. Somehow, I’ve remained positive & have held my head up high. But it does hurt. It does get frustrating. Some days I want to break down & give up, other days I power through, thinking, “I can do this. I got myself to this point, now I need to bring myself back.”

I definitely do not see things the same as I did before. I take everything a little more serious. My hugs last a little longer, my love has grown, and I don’t take anything for granted. Not everyone gets a second chance, and I’m sure as hell not going to waste mine.