I think this blog will take on a whole new meaning.
Early Sunday morning, I was in a car accident.
I have been in the hospital since then, lying flat with a humongous foamy neck brace, pondering...ya know...things.
First day was tough. I hit my head nice and decent on my driver's side window (this was confirmed when I pulled a hunk of glass outta my ear yesterday), so consciousness was hazy. I got what feels like a hundred CAT scans (meow), MRI's, and Xrays. Low and behold my sixth little vertebrae can't hold his shit together. Sorry little guy.
Second day, I got pain meds that didn't make me launch everywhere, and it was decided that surgery was imminent, but when it would happen that's been ANOTHER story.
Third day they teased me with the hope of surgery, and hours of waiting and zero calories later, a late afternoon decision was made that, SURPRISE...no surgery for you. But Rory and my parents stayed with me all day and despite me being slightly out of it with my pain meds, we had a lovely take out dinner of calamari and fried peppers, fig and prosciutto pizza, and peanut butter ice cream. Too bad I fell asleep during our appetizers.
Today was an interesting day to say the least. I got a visit from a psychiatrist today.
We chatted about my accident, if I was having any recollections or scary dreams. We discussed the importance of seatbelts and of proper sleep.
Then she looked at me and asked rather plainly " Do you have any idea why you survived?"
I looked at her quizzically. How do I go about answering a question like that?
"Well...in all honestly I never thought I was going to die... I don't know if that sounds terrible or not, but I felt fine the entire time."
"I believe that confidence will make you strong throughout this whole ordeal. You're going to be just fine"
I didn't have the heart to tell her it was probably my pain med cocktail speaking.
I'm a little goofy on meds right now, I'll update this more thoroughly later.