For What I Am Thankful

What in the world do I do now?

There are times in our lives that we sit back and take stock. June 6, 2015 and the months that followed were a time of deep stock-taking for me and my family.

The day started out like many others, a beautiful, sunny Saturday. We we’re headed to a quincinera party; the first any of us had ever attended. It was for my now ex-husband’s second cousin. We never made it.

While traveling to the party, we had an accident. A lady turned left in front of us and a collision was not avoided. Our minivan hit the rear part of her car and crumpled. Unfortunately, it crumpled in on me, as I was in the passenger seat.

My right knee hit the dashboard and cracked in half, sending a shock up my leg to break my right hip. I had no idea of any of this at the time, and just wanted to straighten my leg, which was now cramped in the crumpled vehicle. Big mistake. It popped and agony shot through me.

The ambulance ride and my burned face from the airbag exploding it’s tiny particles all over me are just a bad memory now. I had to wait a week for the doctors at a well-known hospital to fix the hip, as they weren’t sure my heart would survive. Finally, they had no choice. The pain was unimaginable; worse than childbirth, if you can imagine, but the part I hated most was not being able to care for myself.

Not only could I no longer walk, I couldn’t even clean myself up after pottying! It was humiliating! First, bed pans are NOT glamorous. Second, cute, young male nurses just added to the embarrassment. They were very sweet and told me that they handled that all the time, but it was difficult for me to have to hand over my pride and independence like that. It was also good for me.

My knee, thank God, lined up perfectly when the hospital put it in an immobilizer, and thus didn’t need any other help. The hip was the worst of it.

Slowly, I regained my strength and was transferred to a nursing home much closer to home. The hospital where I was taken was about an hour and a half to two hours away from home, so the nursing home was a relief. I could see my kids!

Walking – how we take it for granted.
Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

It was a terribly slow process, and I’ll admit to being completely jealous of people who had the ability to walk, but eventually I made it home. On August 10, over two months since I left my house, I was able to return. I wasn’t steady or walking unencumbered, but I was home.

Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com

The events of that time had many repercussions, including my oldest’s suicide plan and the crumbling of my marriage when I truly woke up to what I had married. But, above all, God is good. He led me and guided me in ways I had no idea I would ever need.

So, for what am I thankful this Thanksgiving? The ability to walk! And of course my family and friends, of whom you are a part. Happy Thanksgiving, friends. For what are you truly thankful?

For what are you thankful?
Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko on Pexels.com

Published by Rita

I am a single mother, a Christian, a writer, an abuse survivor, a reader, and a friend. I've wanted to be a writer my entire life and now here I am!

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