Bad News Delivered

Beep.... Beep... Beep... Muffled voices, sterile smell. "Whats is going on? Where am I? Why can't I move? What are all these tubes attached to me?!" I thought as I slowly gain consciousness, I could feel myself trying to move my legs but nothing moved.... Suddenly vague memories of CAT scans, X-Rays, doctors, nurses, crying, and fear. Then it hit me like a TON of bricks, the accident. I realized I must have been hurt, but why is this tube down my throat and why does EVERYTHING hurt. Once again I slowly slip back into a deep deep sleep. For what seems like years I am in and out seeing crying faces full of fear. Finally I wake up with a little more coherence, I see my dad looking me in the eyes. His eyes were full of worry. He immediately says to me "No matter what anybody tells you, you are going to WALK again." What? Of course I will walk again? I thought but didn't have the energy to inquire what he was talking about, I had a message I need him to deliver. I said, "okay Dad, can you tell Charlie he is still my best friend and tell the driver I forgive him." His reply was of course and once again I drift slowly away.

Now questions fill my head. "Where is everyone, is Charlie okay, am I okay, whats going on?" Because I was a on a ventilator I couldn't ask any of these questions. I began to motion for a pen and paper, feverishly writing my questions I could see the horror in my family's eyes as I ask the questions they didn't want to answer. With each question came no answer the reply was always "Don't worry about it hunny, go back to sleep" with a fake reassuring smile, then enters a nurse with a syringe to put me back to sleep. This happens hundreds of times it seemed like before I finally just gave up asking and focused on getting that damn tube out of my throat. By this time I was breathing faster than the vent and it was choking me. Two days had passed since the accident, but I had lost all concept of time.

Just after my vent was removed. Pretty positive my mom and Aunt sissy hadn't left the hospital yet.

Day 3ish

My vent was finally removed, it was a glorious moment, now I could talk and that meant they had to answer my questions. But everyone continued to avoid me, I couldn't figure it out. Why can't I feel my legs, what is this huge incision on my stomach, why is there this huge IV port in my neck, where are my friends, is anyone else hurt, why hasn't Charlie come to talk to me... all these questions stumped me, yet no answers. Finally my dad and three other men walk into my room. All with a very grim look on their face, I recognized the men as pastors, but what was going on? My dad told me, " I have something to tell you...." and at that very moment he delivered news that sent my world crashing down on me. Charlie was dead, he didn't make it through surgery, that day was his showing and they hadn't told me because the doctors felt I was too unstable to handle the news. I could feel everything weighing down on me. I couldn't comprehend what the words meant, how would I survive without my best friend? At the same moment I decided I had to survive, I had to fight for him. I felt a single tear run down my face, I told my dad "okay" then closed my eyes and sunk into a deep sleep. I had an answer to a question but still had many left to still ask. Yet I couldn't careless about these questions anymore. How could it get worse than this, I don't have my best friend anymore. Nothing mattered.

The days fade together and I can remember the floods of friends, family, and doctors in and out of my room. All the visitors made the days easier, with their smiles and warm wishes. I had visits from the police asking me what happened and telling me they were looking for the man who was chasing us. At that point I didn't care, I just wanted to go home. I wanted Charlie back. I wanted my friends who were in the car that night to visit but they weren't. And I couldn't figure out why they weren't coming to see me. Still I didn't know what the days ahead held. I still couldn't feel my legs and now I felt like thousands of needles were stabbing me, not to mention the constant fever and inability to eat anything. I had nightly wound cleaning (that would last the entire summer). Oh the excruciating pain while they ripped the staples out of my stomach and begin to scrape around the inside of the incision because of an infection.

All of my beautiful wounds.

I was still in the ICU getting more and more stable with each hour. I began to get fitted for a back brace that I was told I would have to wear anytime I wanted to sit. I couldn't figure out why I would have to wear that but by this point I was over asking questions, I was just going through the motions.

The evil TLSO. This was right after they put it on me.

Day 5ish

The TLSO was finally made and someone brought it for a fitting. As they strapped it too me I could feel my skin pinching between the plastic, I scream blood murder. I refused to try and put it back on, I was in enough pain I didn't need anymore! So in walked a nurse with that damned syringe and out I go. Next thing I know I am waking up with the back brace on and a PT waiting for me. She informs me it is time to try and sit up. Try? Well of course I can sit up, I have been doing it for years! They slowly heave me up and the room begins to instantly spin, I feel a wave a heat crash over my body and than boom.... vomit. I had to be laid back down, I didn't even make it 5 minutes. But for some reason they were still impressed and said it will be an adjustment but you will get there. Get where? I mean yeah my life is over because my best friend is dead but I will heal from this.

Day 7ish

Everyone was raving about this doctor who would be visiting me in a few days to help me "adjust". Adjust? There it was again, adjust to what? I'll heal physically and be fine right? Wrong. I am not sure when or how but one day I figured it out, why everyone was so sad. It wasn't just the death of Charlie, it was the horrible fact I was paralyzed. I had no idea what that meant but that is what I was. I remember thinking I would never have a life, never leave my house, and I would forever be in pain. The doctor finally came. She came with an opening line of "well you will at least be able to still have kids". "WHAT, WHAT THE HELL!!? I don't give a shit about kids! I am 17, I want my best friend back and how am I supposed to live in a chair? Babies where the last thing on my mind, I wanted to know if I would ever be able to not poop myself. If I would forever have to wear a diaper. Not to mention who would ever want to have a baby with me?! I was a pathetic girl in a wheelchair now". My dad kicked her out of the room and banned her from ever coming near me again. What she said blew my mind. It was ludicrous to think I would ever have a life outside of this, besides I don't want a life. I just want to lay in my bed forever and sleep.

So thats it, everything I knew and lived for was gone in one night... I will never see Charlie again, don't get to go to his funeral, no more sports, never date again, live at home forever, and thats it I HAVE NOTHING TO LIVE FOR...