“I hurt, I hurt…” – These are words spoken by my grandma that are probably going to haunt me the rest of my life.

I was driving her back to her house in my dad’s car after spending several hours visiting with my dad in the hospital, like we’d done every day for the previous month. We were a little over a block away from her house when the accident happened. I’m not going into the details, but both the police and the insurance company found the other driver completely at fault. I remember my grandma grabbing at her chest, her hands shaking wildly as she said those words, and all I could think was, Oh, not her too. I’m grateful to the strangers in the area that took the time out of their Saturday night to come over and try to speak with and comfort her. Together we helped to calm her down and eventually she stopped shaking so badly. The police, fire and EMS crews were all great. After the police officer had released us from the scene, my aunt was going to drive me to the hospital so that we could check in on grandma. I guess the adrenaline released from my body, because as I walked to her car, I suddenly became aware of how sore I was and what had happened, and I began shivering and shaking. I remember sitting in her vehicle and thinking cut it out, you’re better than this. be strong. My aunt recognized I wasn’t doing well and spoke calmly to me, reminding me to breathe. I tried being calm but (of course) found I was getting angry at myself for being in this condition. Fortunately, I was able to calm myself down, and was checked out at the hospital by the ER staff. mmm, painkillers.

The accident was over a month ago, and I’m still in pain daily. Neck, shoulders, traps and rhomboids (the ER nurse asked me where I thought that was and just how did I know that?), and headaches. Thankfully, the dizzy spells have stopped, but I still can’t work out. I noticed for the first few weeks after the accident that I had a real brain fog, where basic math problems (9*8=…. what? Come on, remember this…) were a challenge. I tried reading books and my retention was almost zero. Work was difficult because I couldn’t sit at a desk for extended periods, and brain fog + creativity or web coding does not equal productivity. I’m not trying to say I was laying in bed with a neck brace and full body cast – I was still able to shovel my dad’s driveway (but oh boy it sucked a LOT), walk his dog and drive, but it all hurt.

I’m about to head to my first ever chiropractic appointment to try and get this sorted out. I’m grateful things weren’t worse. Dad’s car was a total write-off, but at least it wasn’t my Talon. I’d probably be incarcerated if something had happened to that car on top of everything else. Grandma had fractured ribs, but she didn’t have a heart attack like I was first worried about.

I’m angry. It wasn’t enough that dad had a stroke and was in the hospital, which was the only reason I was there in the first place. It wasn’t enough that I’d been away from home for over a month (and would not get back for well over another month after that). Now I had to get hit by a damned truck because too…

NEXT DAY UPDATE:

I’m even more angry. I was hoping a visit to chiro would have resulted in a quick crack crack, and I’d magically be all better. Okay, I knew it wouldn’t be that simple, but I was hoping. Instead, I’ve been diagnosed with whiplash AND A CONCUSSION. I’ve been told to take it easy, physically and mentally for a while. No reading or sitting at a computer for any length of time, which… well, screws me for work. I can try working out so long as I go super light and be aware of how my body and brain are reacting to it. Maybe I’ll try it in a day or two, but my neck’s not having any of that right now.

I have to admit, I felt shocked, angry and relieved when I was told about the concussion. The shock and anger are of course still directed at the situation itself. Relieved to know there’s something genuinely wrong with me at the moment (zip it, peanut gallery), and that I should get better. I was relieved to be able to put a name to my “brain fog” and know that it wasn’t simply because I’ve been tired, sore and stressed.

The worst thing of all of this is, I’d really like to talk to my dad about all of this, but I can’t. He’s got enough on his plate these days, and some days, it’s almost like it’s not him I’m talking to. I wish there was something tangible here I could fight to deal with this all. Here’s a mountain to climb, here’s a bad guy to punch in the face… and your problem is solved. But, no. I get told to take it easy and see how it goes.

I’m angry.