I've written about the day of the accident (fell off horse in Mallorca) in earlier posts. This post is about the second day in the ICU, after I found out that I had broken my back.
Waking up from my first deep sleep in the ICU was a real bummer. The pain was back in full force. I wanted more pain meds and used sign language to make that known. The nurses nodded that they understood what I wanted. I figured that now it was known that my back was crushed and I was going to have surgery the next day, they'd give me whatever they could to keep me comfortable. But, no such luck, it soon became clear that the dose was not increased. I was not going to be comfortable.
The thing about that pain was that it literally tuned out everything else, like fear and longing. It totally consumed me. It was horrible. When Sos International called and I heard a really warm Dutch voice, I got so emotional and started crying. So hard that I could hardly speak. They told me that my sister Christina was on the line trying to get in touch with me. She'd been in contact with David, but she was really worried about how I was doing now that it was known that I had broken my back. When I heard Christina's voice, I didn't stop crying. I couldn't and didn't want to. I had to share this pain with someone who cared.
It was the first time I spoke to anyone in my family back home and I was just unloading all of what had happened and also about the pain. And then something amazing happened; the pain became more bearable as I spoke with Christina. I was able to handle it, cope with it, stay on top of it. It wasn't as bad anymore. Just like the Dutch expression: "gedeelde smart is halve smart" (literal translation is "shared grief is half grief.").
We started talking about the logistics. Since neither Christina nor my other sister Geertje were able to walk, my brother in law, Hans, was the one going to make the trip to Mallorca to fetch the girls. The girls would stay with my sister in her home town and go to school there. David would stay with me. It was futile to object (I wanted David to be with the girls, I didn't need him here). I sputtered a bit, but it was very clear; all the options had been considered and this was the best solution. I knew to trust my sister, she is so solid in times of crisis. Plus, everything was already set in motion (plane tickets, rental car, hotel, etc.).
Now Hans was an unlikely candidate. He had a very big job that he started just a few months earlier. So, he was under lots of pressure to perform. He did not have any time to spare, so it would be a real sacrifice for him. No one could justly expect anything from him, I certainly didn't. Also, he was not well versed in air travel. He did not fly much, neither for work nor for pleasure. He's the kind of guy who much rather spends his vacation at home or nearby (or at least driving distance) than suffer the airport hassle and fly to a foreign land.
Christina explained that Hans had volunteered to get the girls. He had it all in perspective, we needed his help, no matter his work demands. I was surprised at first and felt guilty for imposing on Hans, but I soon felt relieved. Hans is a very reliable, trustworthy guy; and, perhaps more importantly, he is also warm and caring. The girls would be in real good hands.
It was humbling to see the support and sacrifice and I will forever be grateful for that; Hans stepped up to the plate when it mattered most. A real hero.
When we hung up, I was calm, but emotional still. Tears were flowing again, but silently. No longer because of the pain, but because I felt really sad. It was all so overwhelming; My scary back surgery and David's complex wrist surgery of the next day, but mostly it was the furious longing for the girls. I knew they would be fine and well taken care off, but there was such a heaviness in missing them. To know that I would not see the girls for a long time made me so heavy hearted. That hurt way more than the pain. But, I accepted it. I had no choice.
This calmness stayed with me throughout the rest of the day. And the sadness turned into feeling grateful. I had a unstable fracture, any movement could have paralyzed me. And there had been an awefull lot of movement (getting up and walking right after the fall, being transported to the hospital sitting in a van, taking my soiled jeans off while waiting for the doctor, being lifted (thrown) from the gurney to the table, etc.). It still gives me goosebumps thinking about all these moments that could have been disastrous. I truly was so very very lucky.
But, as if I wasn't deserving of some peace and quiet, there was another totally unnecessary freak out moment later that day. I had just woken from a nap and asked the nurse what day it was. The nurse said Friday. "No, not Friday, it can't be" I thought. That was the day the girls would be flying home and the day of surgeries. "Did I already have my surgery?" So, again, I freaked out. I was so confused and panicky. I hated feeling so scared and out of control so I got pretty angry, especially because it was so stupid and unnecessary: "Jezus, they can't get anything right in this goddamn place." Anxiety and stress were so difficult to keep at bay. And to get this upsetting incorrect info was not helping. They couldn't even get the day right. Idiots. (To be fair, the nurse did not know English, but still, just shut up then)
After that incident, it took a while to regain the calmness. And when it returned, more pleasant thoughts were coming in. Thoughts like, I didn't need to fly to Helsinki next week for work, in fact, I didn't need to work for at least a couple of weeks. If things had gone as planned, my work demands would have been insane upon return from Mallorca. And now I was freed from all that; such a load off my mind. Even better yet, I got to recuperate at home with David and the girls soon. And that felt nice, real nice; that thought made me feel warm and comfy.
I continue to be a sceptic when it comes to the power of positive thinking, but I now believe that there must be some truth to it. The pain was no longer in control of me that second day in the ICU. It was not because the pain lessened or that the pain meds were increased, they weren't. So, the fact that I was coping must have been because of my happy thoughts:
So grateful for not being paralyzed.
So relieved for not having to meet the work demands.
So happy knowing that I would be hanging with the family at home for weeks.
Here is to happy thoughts and Hans & Christina.
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