BIG. #18

I may or may not have had a major panic attack when the medics extracted me from my wrecked car and strapped me into the ambulance.  I had been rear-ended while I was sitting at a red light by a car going full speed.  He hit me with such force that I hit my head and had a concussion, had whiplash, and worst, my bad leg was crushed between the dashboard and seat, causing excruciating pain in my right leg and knee.  The pain was just as bad as my skin graft surgeries in December.  Being in the ambulance alone was giving me a big old case of PTSD.  I shook and cried all the way to the hospital.

Freaked by all of my scars and history, the staff immediately x-rayed my entire body and CT scanned my head and neck.  No bones were broken, but after an MRI, they found several issues in my knee, including several meniscal tears that would require surgery.  The pain was intense, and the hospital kept me overnight to help manage it.  It was my first hospitalization since being sent home from Loyola in January, and I was scared and shaky the entire time.

Later in the afternoon, the PT came in to see if we could get me up walking on my crushed (operated on) leg.  I tried to stand up, and immediately collapsed.  Angrily, I tried again.  Mind over matter, Amy, Mind over matter.  Tried to stand up again.......nope.  Knee gave out immediately and I fell.  At that point, I completely lost it.  I started sobbing.  I felt like everything I've worked so hard for in the last 9 months was completely ruined.  I couldn't fathom being at the point of using the walker everywhere, using a wheelchair, and constant, grueling pain.  Jon grabbed me, put me in his lap and just held me and let me cry.  It was what I needed at that moment, and my wonderful hubby knows how to calm me down.  (After all, he was able to keep me sane after I lost my hair....let's not forget THAT horror).

The hospital kept me over night for pain control and to regain some of my ADLs, and I was discharged in the morning.  The next surgery-- surgery #7 was scheduled for the next week.

The moral of the story today?  Don't freakin text and drive.  You might hit a girl with nec fasc and total her car and smash her bad leg and cause her to have a 7th surgery on her tiny right leg.  Boom.