A photo journal comprised of my thoughts on motherhood and other life happenings, as well as some of professional work as a photographer. Southern California is home.
Last Friday I was in a terrible car accident on the freeway. I was on my way to work when a pickup truck was rear ended and came flying into me faster than a speeding bullet. I can still hear the sound of the crashing metal and the smell of the air bag. It plays over and over in my mind in slow motion, but the reality of it is that it all happened in a second. Life can change in a second. It’s terrifying. All three cars involved were totaled and yet, we all walked away. Almost immediately, however, I felt pain in my neck. It’s been a year and a half since my surgery but the pain I felt was all too familiar. It’s been a long time since I’ve had debilitating pain and the accident has served as an unwelcome reminder of all that comes along with it.
I remember spending much of my time in bed in the weeks following my surgery. I felt very sorry for myself. It’s really difficult to rely on others for everything; to give up your independence and the freedom to do what you want when you want and, frankly, how you want. I was plagued by the realization that while this was simply the recovery process for me, many others go through their entire lives with these limitations. I feared I’d forget the perspective that I acquired during those hard times. And, in truth, part of me has. I found that as I slowly recovered, I also slowly forgot. I started to take my health for granted. Maybe that’s not the write word. Rather, I started to feel entitled to good health because that’s what life had always given me.
It’s hard to make sense of tragedies. And my accident is far from a tragedy, I know. But when I look to find meaning embedded in what happened, I think about the perspective that I let slip away and I think about the entitlement I felt. And I think, maybe this accident was meant to give me some sort of reminder; a reminder that life – the good and the bad – is a privilege. When people ask me about how my neck is feeling, I tell them neck pain isn’t a bad problem to have. Because, really, think of the alternatives.
I haven’t been able to do as much as I normally can. Dishes have piled up, clothes have piled up, the floors are dirty, the entryway is cluttered with unmatched shoes strewn about, piles of mail are sitting unopened, and so on and so forth. And I’ve found myself swearing that if it weren’t for my pain, all of these things would be done; that the house would be clean, sparkling even.
I’m familiar with this cycle. You see, I know that when my body recovers, the house will stay dirty. I’ll be left wondering where that positive, energetic energy went that was so looking forward to being healthy so that things could get done. Because, you see, when I can’t do them, it’s what I miss most. When I can’t do them, I realize that being able to do normal, everyday things really is a privilege.
It’s a shift in perspective from bitching about having to make a bed to being grateful for having a bed to make. And nothing has taught me that more than my experiences with debilitating pain. I hope this go-around I can hang on to that perspective just a little bit longer.
This is a beautiful reminder to cherish your health. I love what you wrote. There is a balance that must be kept, though. I struggle with a thyroid disorder that made me beyond fatigued for years. Although I don’t use it as a crutch or an excuse, it’s important to recognize the fact that the limitation exists and must be acknowledged. I know that I have a sensitive system and therefore treat my body with more kindness than I used to. I love what you said, though: “It’s a shift in perspective.” I think we have to cry about our problems, understand how they impact us, and then see the bigger picture and move on.
This post was extremely refreshing. Thank you.
Great post. I feel like I struggle with keeping this perspective myself. You see how impatient I am with my damn cough that is lingering forever. I bitch and moan about not feeling good enough to do certain things I like to do…and there’s a big ol’ pity party going on. In reality, I have nothing to complain about. It’s a tough balance because life makes these demands and we have these expectations and we’re all moving at 100 mph with a laundry list of “to dos.” None of that really goes away, but I have to believe there can be some peace and gratitude in the background.
It was like I was reading my own post over again, except insert my previous accidents where your spine injury recovery goes. Anyway – I’m SO GLAD you’re okay. Accidents are horrible for everyone involved. Be easy. Sending you healing vibes.
Dang. I’m so sorry to hear this. I remember when you had your surgery. I remember you talking about your hardware and the recovery. I had just had a hip replacement a year before that and while my surgery wasn’t nearly as intensive as your spinal work, I totally related to that frustration of not being able to do a damn thing for yourself or even carry your children. I bet that recalling all those memories and feeling like you are back there is downright scary. Take the time to heal. And hang on to that positivity that you have lived to fight another day. Thinking of you and wishing you a speedy recovery.
Last Friday I was in a terrible car accident on the freeway. I was on my way to work when a pickup truck was rear ended and came flying into me faster than a speeding bullet. I can still hear the sound of the crashing metal and the smell of the air bag. It plays over and over in my mind in slow motion, but the reality of it is that it all happened in a second. Life can change in a second. It’s terrifying. All three cars involved were totaled and yet, we all walked away. Almost immediately, however, I felt pain in my neck. It’s been a year and a half since my surgery but the pain I felt was all too familiar. It’s been a long time since I’ve had debilitating pain and the accident has served as an unwelcome reminder of all that comes along with it.
This is a beautiful reminder to cherish your health. I love what you wrote. There is a balance that must be kept, though. I struggle with a thyroid disorder that made me beyond fatigued for years. Although I don’t use it as a crutch or an excuse, it’s important to recognize the fact that the limitation exists and must be acknowledged. I know that I have a sensitive system and therefore treat my body with more kindness than I used to. I love what you said, though: “It’s a shift in perspective.” I think we have to cry about our problems, understand how they impact us, and then see the bigger picture and move on.
This post was extremely refreshing. Thank you.
Circus & Bloom
♥♥♥
Love the idea of treating your body with more kindness. We all need to do more of that.
Great post. I feel like I struggle with keeping this perspective myself. You see how impatient I am with my damn cough that is lingering forever. I bitch and moan about not feeling good enough to do certain things I like to do…and there’s a big ol’ pity party going on. In reality, I have nothing to complain about. It’s a tough balance because life makes these demands and we have these expectations and we’re all moving at 100 mph with a laundry list of “to dos.” None of that really goes away, but I have to believe there can be some peace and gratitude in the background.
Ya, it’s easy to focus on the little picture… hard to focus on the big. But when you can… it makes it all more clear.
I’m thankful you are okay. What a terrifying ordeal. I’m glad you’re finding positivity buried in it somewhere.
Thanks, Holly.
Uh can we just….
http://rookstack.blogspot.com/2014/08/our-accident.html
It was like I was reading my own post over again, except insert my previous accidents where your spine injury recovery goes. Anyway – I’m SO GLAD you’re okay. Accidents are horrible for everyone involved. Be easy. Sending you healing vibes.
I agree, horrible for everyone involved. Thanks for the healing vibes. xo
Dang. I’m so sorry to hear this. I remember when you had your surgery. I remember you talking about your hardware and the recovery. I had just had a hip replacement a year before that and while my surgery wasn’t nearly as intensive as your spinal work, I totally related to that frustration of not being able to do a damn thing for yourself or even carry your children. I bet that recalling all those memories and feeling like you are back there is downright scary. Take the time to heal. And hang on to that positivity that you have lived to fight another day. Thinking of you and wishing you a speedy recovery.
Thanks, Meryl.