Two weeks from the accident...

Today marks the two week mark from the day that changed my entire life. The thought of it being only two weeks ago frightens me, it feels like it has been a lifetime.

I last left off shortly before my Friday physiotherapy. Friday ended up being a very bad day. I was tired and weak all day long. All I wanted to do was sleep. I got to physiotherapy and felt too tired to function. I tried so hard to do everything they asked, but the pain kicked in quickly. My muscles were sore, my body wouldn't cooperate. I was getting so frustrated every second that passed. We ended up cutting that session short.

I left physiotherapy in my chair, and did my first ever ALL BY MYSELF trip to the cafeteria. I bought a chicken quesadilla, a shrimp noodle salad and a v8. I had planned to sit at a table and enjoy myself, but as I was wheeling myself to a table, I felt my bladder relieve itself. There was no way I was sitting to eat in my own urine. So back up to my room to get changed and eat in bed I went.

The rest of Friday was fairly unpleasant as well. My bowels began to ache, the last time I had made a bowel movement was Tuesday night when they gave me an enema. They wouldn't give me an enema, but suggested a suppository. Which did nothing. I felt that if i could JUST get to a toilet, that I would feel comfortable enough to go. That and gravity would help.. The nurses could not get me to a toilet. I am on an air mattress, so a slider board isn't going to work. The lift doesn't have an open bottom. They told me my only chance was to go in a bed pan. Unfortunately the bed pan is so uncomfortable, I couldn't make it come. So Friday evening/night was terrible really. All I wanted to do was poo.

Saturday came, I spent the entire day in bed. To start, I was waiting for my Mom to come, to find out in the early afternoon that was not her intentions at all. I had requested she kept Ethan home for the day, so she assumed I meant her as well. My sister had made other plans so she was unable to watch Ethan. I was pretty upset. I felt very alone. I let a lot of things get me down that I should not have. Luckily, I woke from a nap, and my Mom was there. she had her friend come over with her kids for a play date so my Mom could come see me. Shortly after I awoke, my Grandparents showed up for a visit. It was great seeing them. My Aunt showed up as well, she gave me a little pedicure and painted my toes up all pretty. It was definitely a good visit.

Then evening came.. It came with another enema. I will never be able to express my hatred for enemas. They hurt. I have hyper sensitivity in not only my right leg, but my butt as well. Every little toot feels like a bomb going off. So you could probably imagine how an enema feels. I was up almost all night, every 20-40 minutes more came out, which was more pain, excruciating pain. By morning I was pretty much empty, thank flipping God.

That brings us to today. I had a great day today.
I woke up feeling relieved. I ate breakfast and went straight back to sleep. I woke up to my Mom and Ethan sitting beside me. The nurse was ready to put me in my wheelchair. I got to go down to the cafeteria and had a few fries before starting to feel a bit dizzy. My Dad and Sherri showed up, and with them, they brought me a whole load of goodies. Fresh cherries, dragon fruit  grapes, avocado. All my favourites... AND A BIG LOAD OF DIM SUM. I was stoked. I pigged riiight out.

Then Ethan decided it was nap time. My Dad laid him down beside me, and I fell asleep as well. We had a nice long nap together, it was one of the best naps of my entire life. Naps with Ethan are always the best. To have him snuggled up next to me is the greatest feeling in the entire world. We woke up and unfortunately it was time for everyone to go. My Mom and sister took Ethan to k-days (I know the name has changed, I still and always will call it that) to go on a few rides and what not. It was his very first time at a fair. As selfish as it sounds, I was/am very upset that I could not be there. I wanted to take him to his first fair.

That brings us to now. I am laying here in my room, with a crap load of dim sum and no appetite to eat. The sun is barely starting to set and all I want is to be hugged by my boy. I know I should try and be more positive, I have managed to stay amazingly positive throughout this whole ordeal. I guess it is just starting to sink in that I will be missing a lot of major events in my son's upbringing because of all of this.

I cannot wait to be out of hospital, out of rehab, and home. Home with my son, able to be with him every day again. To raise him and be there for him. Just like I was before. being in a wheelchair might change a few things, but it won't change my love for him or my ability to be there for him.

My hospital stay, so far.

When I last ended, it was the day after my surgery. I was groggy and had a marvellous nurse who called herself Marvellous as her real name was harder to remember. I still cannot remember it.

I was in a state of fuzzy, if that makes any sense. I was purposely blocking out whatever I could. Zoning out and thinking about how this can't be real. It just can't be.
That was Tuesday, the next few days are a complete blur as well.
I had no appetite, I could not force myself to eat. It hurt to swallow, it made me feel ill to think about food.
It soon hit me that I am alive. I shouldn't be. If I hadn't taken my seatbelt off a mere minute or two before the accident, my skull very likely would have been crushed. I am not in any way saying that not wearing a seatbelt is in a good idea at all. ALWAYS wear your seatbelt. I got lucky, it was pure chance.
I got to live. To be here to raise my son, to see him grow, to BE his Mother. This is an amazing opportunity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. I wouldn't trade it for the ability to walk either.

Like I said, the first few days here are a blur, so my order of remembering may not be fully accurate.
It was either Thursday or Friday of that week that I finally made a bowel movement. This was a good accomplishment, as my butt is numb as well. I was happy to have finally gone, the weight relieved from my stomach and bowels felt amazing.. Until the guy in the bed beside mine in ICU decided to make fun of the smell. Him and his Mother both. I was embarrassed and upset. I had just had to shit my bed, quite literally, and was getting made fun of for it. I felt I had just hit a new low. The jerk then decided to spray axe spray on the curtain between us, in a scent free ward. I swear it smelled worse than my poop. Thankfully the nurses told him he wasn't allowed to do that. I still felt embarrassed however.

It also would have been Thursday or Friday that I first seen the picture of my son's car seat, in the truck, after the crash. This picture made my heart stop. I couldn't believe that he had not only survived, but walked away completely unharmed.  I have never been so grateful in my entire life. The roof of the truck is crumpled down, pushing on the top of his car seat, pressing it in to the truck seat. That roof was mere centimetres from his head. It is a miracle that he is unharmed.
That being said, proper car seat installation and usage makes ALL the difference. I will be writing an entry about car seat safety very soon. I will never ever be able to stress the importance of proper car seat usage. If my son hadn't been in there proper, he would likely be dead.

My stay in the ICU was not a very pleasant one. I mean, is it ever? The nurses were amazing and awesome though. My first neighbour was a jerk. After he was transferred out, I was relieved, but still felt stressed. There was always a nurse at the end of my bed, I couldn't get even a minute of privacy.
Finally on Sunday, exactly a week from the accident, I was transferred out of ICU. Unfortunately, there was no private rooms available. Apparently they are far and few in these wards. People like my jerk neighbour only got private rooms for the protection of other patients.

So I was finally out of the ICU. I was so glad. No more nurse at the end of my bed all the time. No more rushing around me, the ICU is a very stressful environment. Upon leaving the ICU a nurse summarized my surgery report for me. I had broken two vertebrae and displaced 4 in total They stuck in 2 rods and 12 pins after doing some sort of bone fusion. I have a 6-8 inch incision with 25 staples going up my spine.  I found this information quite nifty.

During all this, I was having hyper sensitivity in my right leg, big time. Every touch to it tingled a burning sort of tingle. it was terrible. The left leg has just a numb tingling feeling all the time.

I spent these days looking forward to only one thing. The moments when my son walked in the door for visits. Hugs and snuggles and kisses from him make every last bit of pain go away temporarily. We even got to have a couple naps together, nothing has ever felt so great. The fact that both him and I are alive and well and able to have naps together is one of the many things I am most grateful for.
Obviously though, spending so much time in a hospital isn't very good for a 3 year old's development. I have told my Mom to only bring him by every other day now. He needs more time away from here, as hard as that is on me, it is him that matters most. Always.

Because of lack of private rooms, I had been stuck with a neighbour. She was an elderly lady who, at first, seemed to be the sweetest little lady in the world. She was in because she had a few seizures and was recently diagnosed with both brain and lung cancer. She is such a fighter. She was a bit controlling in regards to the room, she is claustrophobic and wouldn't allow me to close my own curtains, as she would have a panic attack. So again, I had little to no privacy. She hated my tv being on, not even just because of the noise of the tv, as I had headphones.. The buzzing to the tv being on bothered her. So the $60 a week my Dad decided to pay for my tv services felt like a waste, I felt terrible. I paid for internet services, just to have her complain about the sound of my typing as well. I was starting to feel like a prisoner. That feeling increased when the complaints about me having too many visitors started. I was beginning to get very upset with her. She was such a sweet little lady otherwise though. She was transferred out to Leduc just last night. I was moved over to the bed next to the window. Yipee!

Alrighty, now on to my recovery. It has been amazing so far.
Before being transferred out of the ICU on the 17th, I was put for the first time in a stretcher chair type thing. They sat me up and wheeled me around the hospital, I got to go outside for a few minutes and see the sky for the first time in a week. That was a great day.
Since then, I have started to use a real wheel chair! The first attempt at getting me in it did not go over very well. The physiotherapy ladies had helped me sit up, after a couple minutes sitting up I fainted. That was it for that day.
The very next day they got a lift, and lifted me in to the wheelchair, no fainting there. I was stoked. I got to go out of my room, in a real chair. My Mom and Ethan were here, so we went down to the cafeteria and had lunch. It was a good day.
I have been able to get in my wheelchair every day since. I love getting to go and leave this room.

On the 18th they removed my catheter and had planned to do an in and out catheter every 3 hours. This freaked me right out, ouch. Luckily my bladder hates catheters as much as I do, and started relieving itself fully. Day by day I am getting more control over it. This excites me so much! They have been doing routine bladder scans to be sure my bladder isn't overfilling before emptying, and that it is fully emptying. Thankfully, my bladder is doing it's job well.

On Wednesday the 20th, I had my first real physiotherapy session! It went insanely well. A good friend of mine, Dayton, was with me for it. He was almost as stoked for me as I was. It went fantastic. We worked on me being able to sit at the edge of a bed with no support. I have great balance apparently. I had no troubles at all. I mean, I almost toppled over a couple times, but caught myself (with the help of the physiotherapist).

Wednesday the 20th was also the first day I had spent without seeing Ethan. It was ridiculously hard. I missed him SO much. I bawled my heart out when I got to talk to him on the phone before bedtime. I just wished I could be with him and not stuck here. I wanted to hold him so bad.

The next day, which was yesterday, went wonderfully. I had my second physiotherapy session. This time we worked on trying to lift my legs on to a bed, and balancing while sitting cross-legged. We also worked on balancing myself while reaching for items while sitting. This was difficult, but I got it done. The physiotherapy ladies were super impressed.

My Mom and sister then brought my son to see me. I missed him so much. The hugs I got from him were the most amazing hugs ever. They always are.

Unfortunately, I had a bad experience with a couple of nurses last night. I had requested morphine for pain after getting out of my wheelchair. They had finally come with it, and the button to my mattress got hit and the mattress started deflating. The one nurse, didn't stop to hit the button to re-inflate the bed, and stuck the morphine needle in my arm, while I was sinking in to the deflating mattress. It hurt SO bad as I could not stay still. The other nurse, came in and gave me a lecture about noise. She said I was being disrespectful to my neighbour, and that and we were all adults here, not children, so crying was unacceptable. She then proceeded to ask my family to leave. I was super upset. I bawled about it multiple times last night. I felt like a nuisance to the nurse, like I shouldn't be here and I just want to go home. I still slightly feel this way. I have never been treated so unfairly by a nurse before. I felt I should be allowed to cry after all I've been through, and, that I shouldn't have gotten in trouble when the one nurse was sticking me with a needle while my body was sinking and unable to stop moving. Of course I am going to verbally express my pain. What did they expect? Me to bite my tongue off and be verbally paralysed as well as physically?

And that brings us to today, it is early morning. I woke up after a very restless night, very sore. My morphine was given to me, and I decided to write this entry. I have physiotherapy at 11am every weekday, so this will be my last session for the week. I wonder what we will do today.

It started with a crunch..

As well as a bunch of spinning. But we'll get there in a minute.

I am Cora. I'm not a particularly interesting person at all. I'm a single Mother to a beautiful boy I like to call Ethan.

I was working as a waitress in the Marsden Bar and Hotel until recently. Very recently. Actually.. I remember my last shift as if it were yesterday, as it was only 10 days ago.

I got there at noon, basic for a Sunday shift. It was a quiet, boring Sunday shift. I didn't care. I was so excited. My younger sister was due to have a baby girl any day. Harry Potter came out the upcoming Thursday. I was stoked... After my shift ended that night, I was going to be on my way to the city to be there for these exciting events.

I got through my shift, closed quickly and rushed home. My Dad's girlfriend Sherri and I loaded my luggage, my son, and ourselves in to the truck to be on our way.

We were to pick up her sister in law Sharon, then head straight to Tofield AB to meet one of my Dad's friends who was going to pick my son and myself up to continue the trip in to the city.
We turned down Artland Road to head towards Suffern lake where Sharon was staying at about 7:20pm. The road had fresh gravel laid down just days before. We were about 10 minutes up the road when my son asked for some juice. I unbelted my seatbelt, turned around, found his juice, gave it to him, grabbed my laptop bag and put it in a comfy spot in the back so it wasn't bugging my legs and turned back around to hear Sherri, who was driving, say "Oh shit."

We were fish tailing. Badly. Very badly. I screamed Sherri's name, and we were over. End over end, glass smashing, the sound of metal heavily crunching. I heard something in my back crack. I felt more pain than I had ever felt before. It was like a searing hot wave went throughout my entire body, and then it went cold. My every thought of thousands that passed in that small 10 seconds was of Ethan. It was over as fast as it came on. Even though it felt like it last an eternity. The seconds were few, but I had thousands of thoughts about Ethan. "Is he hurt? Is he hurt now? Is he going to be alive? If he dies I want to die with him. I don't want to live without him. When will we stop rolling? I need to get to him. Why are we still rolling?"

Finally we stopped. We landed right side up. I whipped around and screamed Ethan's name. He responded instantly with "I want to go in the van Mom" and a load of tears. He was okay. Scared, but okay. My heart started to beat again. My son was alive.

I tried to get up, I couldn't. I turned to Sherri and started crying for her to get Ethan out. Get Ethan out of the truck now. She unbuckled her seatbelt, she couldn't open the door. She climbed out the window and she forced open the door from the outside, I don't even remember how she managed to do it. She did though, she got that door open and she got Ethan out. Then started the search for a cell phone. There had been two in the vehicle. Neither were anywhere to be found. Sherri wanted my help, I started to freak.

My legs wouldn't move. I couldn't feel them. I could see them, I could touch them, but they didn't feel like they were mine. I knew instantly what that meant. I've seen enough TV and movies and House to know. My back was broken.

I yelled and I screamed and Sherri told me to calm down. I couldn't. I told her I couldn't feel my legs. She told me not to fuck around. I told her I wasn't kidding. I yelled and screamed some more. I waited and waited, calling for help, in the middle of the country, with nothing but us and our wreckage around.

Sherri continued to search for the phones. Ethan was having a ton of fun playing in the tall grass nearby.
I laid there and waited. Tears streaming from my face. Thoughts streaming through my mind. Was I dreaming? Why wasn't I waking up? Was my back really broken? Would I ever walk again? How could I be a good Mom to my son without working legs? Where was help? Could they even help?

At least 20 minutes went by. No sign of the phones. No sign of my legs being my own again.
Finally I could hear it, a vehicle driving down the road in which we just came flying off of. I started to scream for help again. Sherri flagged them down, and they came running.

The wife was instantly on the phone calling for help. The husband came straight to me and held me up, holding my broken back straight until help arrived. Help was coming. We were alive. My son was alive. But what help was there for me? For my legs?
(By the way: If ANYONE knows who this couple is. Please tell me. I have no clue who they are, they saved my life. I want to thank them personally.)

Another 20 minutes passed. Finally the emergency rescue team arrived. They came to me with a board. The worst and most uncomfortable board. They strapped me to it. All the while my thoughts on Ethan. By this time I was starting to go in to shock I think. My brain was spinning, where was Ethan? Where did he go? I couldn't hear him, I couldn't see him. Where was he.

Suddenly my boss, Glenda, was by my side. She reassured me that Ethan was okay. Him and Sherri were sitting in her car, Sherri had called her from one of the mysterious heroes cellphones. She came immediately to help.

I was stuck to a board waiting for an ambulance and mosquitoes were eating me. They were everywhere and then some. I was covered in a blanket to protect me from them. Glenda sat there stroking my hair. I laid there bawling. I knew the verdict. My back was broken. I knew what this meant. I looked at Glenda, in my state of shock, and asked her if she would still have me work for her even if I couldn't walk. She assured me she would.

Suddenly I was in an ambulance. When they finally showed up I cannot be sure. It took a very long time though. It was getting dark outside. I asked the EMT if I would ever walk again. He looked upset by my question, and told me in a hoarse tone that he could not tell.

I opened my eyes again and was in a large room by myself. Still strapped to that horrible board. I could hear him. Ethan's screams made my heart sink. I started to scream for him. Scream his name over and over. I started to try and shake the board. I was delirious and needed to get to my boy. A nurse came running and told me to stay calm, I tell her that is my son. She tells me they are just checking him out, making sure he is okay and that he is not pleased about it. My heart feels better, but not much. I wanted to be there, to hold him, to tell him it will be okay.
Next my Grandma is standing over me, crying. I am still strapped to that god awful board in that same large room. My legs were still not there. I looked up at her and said "Grandma. I'm never going to walk again. My legs don't work." We both cried harder. Though her much harder than myself. I don't think I have ever seen her more heart broken. This broke my own heart even more.

I heard voices telling me I was being transferred to Edmonton. I cannot recall seeing faces or anything at all for that matter. Just voices saying the weather is too bad for helicopter and that they will be sending me by airplane.

There was a small, dark room. Everything was crazy loud. This must be the airplane.

Then they were putting me in a big machine. They gave me a bulby thing and told me to squeeze it if I need help. I'm going for an MRI. I cried the whole time. I knew the verdict. Somewhere along the way x-rays had been done. I couldn't remember them being done. But I knew they had been. I knew because somewhere along the way someone mentioned a broken vertebrae.

I opened my eyes again and my Mom was there. Amber and Teagan are there. Why are these people there? Why is this guy hurting my shoulder? Grinding my bones? Why am I still on this stupid board? Why are my friends there? My Mom and Dad and Sherri. Where's Ethan? Someone tells me that my sister is in labour. This makes me cry. I wanted to be there so badly for her. But I am not. I am strapped to a board and everyone around me is so upset.
I was so loopy at this point, I can barely recall any logical thought.
I am told I was in emerg. and that everyone was just getting there. It was Monday morning already.

There we are again. Except it's different. It's my family. My parents and sisters and Sherri. They are all gathered around me with a man I had never met before. I asked him if I would ever walk again. He told me it was extremely unlikely. My sister, whom I had never seen cry before, started to bawl. My mom tells me Kirsten had the baby. A baby girl named Chloe. I knew it wasn't a dream. I knew this was for real.

They wheeled me into the O.R.
I felt calm. Because I knew Ethan wass okay. I knew we are alive. I knew they were going to fix what they can. Even if it's unfixable.
They hold a mask over my face, and inject something in to my i.v.

I woke up screaming. Delirious and afraid. Screaming for Ethan. Where is my son. Why isn't my Mom there. Where is my family? Why am I alone. The Dr was rude to me. He wouldn't stop telling me to be quiet. How could I be quiet when my life has been changed forever and nobody I know or love was around to console me? Why was this happening. Why couldn't I just go home? I knew in my mind that I was acting hysterical. I was hysterical. I had every right to be hysterical. This wasn't right.

I wake again suddenly up to see Amber standing over me. She's one of my best friends, Amber. Her eyes are filled with love. I ask where Ethan is. He was there. With my Mom. Everything seemed good again. A nurse introduced herself as Marvellous, as it was easier to remember than her real name. She showed us everything, what every line on every monitor meant, what every tube connected to me was for. I couldn't help but try to block the most of it out. This shouldn't be happening.

But it was.

I have to stop now. The hardest of it all is written. I am exhausted and the morphine is kicking in. I need to sleep.