It's been 286 days since the accident, which means 286 days of non-stop migraine headaches. But that's not the reason.
I lost my job, my career, on Day 192. But that's not the reason.
It's all the unseen losses in between.
It's all the summer weekend plans last year. The beaches I never got to see, the friends I never got to visit, the bridal shower long anticipated but unattended. The books unread on the deck, enjoying the woods that surround our home.
It's the fall foliage I saw only through a peak out the window or from behind sunglasses and a visor. The family birthdays uncelebrated. Annual events eagerly awaited but sadly missed. The Thanksgiving meal I couldn't prepare and could barely eat.
And in their place, isolation and unremitting pain interrupted only by rehab and medical appointments.
It's the joy of the holidays muted to silence. The Christmas tree that I couldn't look at without searing pain. The traditions on hold until next year in the hopes that it'll be different then. No visits to family or friends this time. Just quiet.
It's the eerie silence of winter. The February getaway to Sedona given away instead. The speaking engagement in Orlando in March, booked before the accident, finally cancelled instead of pending. And the one that broke my heart: missing my niece's baby shower. I tried so hard to make that happen, but severe migraines, seizures, and hallucinations made that one impossible.
And now it's spring. It's been about six weeks since I've been to brain rehab while I try to get the seizures and hallucinations under control, although I'll be going back soon. Instead, I've been going to physical therapy to work on the neck, head, and upper body damage caused by the force of the accident (hint: a lot). I've already had to say no to an invitation that under normal circumstances, we might have tried to make work despite the inconvenient timing and distance. That was not well received and likely ruined a friendship.
In about six weeks from now, I'll be going with Jon to FL for his 100 mile race (www.keys100.com). It scares me just to say that. Every time I plan something, I wind up having to cancel it because I'm not ready yet...and I'm afraid that this will be another one of those things.
Really. Really. Afraid.
Really. Really. Afraid.
I hate the calendar because it means having to say no to my life as I knew it.
