Star-crossed Life
I have horrendously bad luck. Last year ended roughly for me, with having a broken leg, and needing surgery and all. I was supposed to go back to work on January 28th. On January 22nd, my dad decided to celebrate my recovery by taking me snowmobiling in the Haliburton forest, which is our favourite daddy-daughter winter activity. My leg was still too tender to allow me to drive my own machine (you use your legs a lot for leverage while driving), so I spent the day on the back of my dad's sled. As my luck would have it, the trails were very icy that day. When rounding an especially tight corner, my dad lost control of the snowmobile, and we fishtailed violently, sliding backwards off the trail, into a snowy ditch. My father landed gently in some deep powder snow. I landed with my spine against a sharp rock.
My landing was so hard, I broke two ribs on impact. One of the jagged broken ribs punctured my right lung, and the lung deflated to 50% capacity and filled partially with blood. The right half of my liver burst open, and caused heavy internal bleeding. My kidney was bruised, and my right shoulder was sprained.
I spent over a week in the hospital, hooked up to various i.v.s, and oxygen tubes. A draining apparatus was attached to my lung through a hole that was surgically cut in my side. It wasn't very pretty. On the bright side, I got more flowers from loved ones that week than all of the valentine's days of my life put together.
Recovery was long and hard. For many weeks after I came home from the hospital, I was unable to lie down, due to the pain in my chest and abdomen. I had to sleep propped up on what I came to call my "pillow pyramid". Low hemoglobin made me really weak and tired all the time. I had so much internal bleeding, that my belly was swollen and pregnant-looking, but the rest of me was wasted from being unable to eat. Overall, I looked like a bloated victim of famine.
The cool thing about my injuries is that none of them have left lasting damage. Aside from the incision scar on my side, between my ribs, there is no external evidence of the accident.
I've had several medical professionals tell me that I'm very lucky to be alive, and I feel it. I feel almost as if someone has put a curse on me, and I kinda hope it's true, just so I can say "Ha! You think you can keep me down? I can get back up after anything." I may have bad luck, but I'm one tough bitch. The accident has kinda given me a new lease on life. I'm getting more ballsy. I'm not afraid to try new things, like let my brother's girlfriend cut off all my hair. (I'm currently sporting the shortest hair I've ever had in my life! It's a cute bed-head, longish pixie look).
I'm going job-hunting in Ajax next week. I've been spoiled up until now, living off illness pay. It's time to join the working world again before I forget how earning a living feels. Wish me luck - just don't tell me to break a leg, 'cause I probably will!
My landing was so hard, I broke two ribs on impact. One of the jagged broken ribs punctured my right lung, and the lung deflated to 50% capacity and filled partially with blood. The right half of my liver burst open, and caused heavy internal bleeding. My kidney was bruised, and my right shoulder was sprained.
I spent over a week in the hospital, hooked up to various i.v.s, and oxygen tubes. A draining apparatus was attached to my lung through a hole that was surgically cut in my side. It wasn't very pretty. On the bright side, I got more flowers from loved ones that week than all of the valentine's days of my life put together.
Recovery was long and hard. For many weeks after I came home from the hospital, I was unable to lie down, due to the pain in my chest and abdomen. I had to sleep propped up on what I came to call my "pillow pyramid". Low hemoglobin made me really weak and tired all the time. I had so much internal bleeding, that my belly was swollen and pregnant-looking, but the rest of me was wasted from being unable to eat. Overall, I looked like a bloated victim of famine.
The cool thing about my injuries is that none of them have left lasting damage. Aside from the incision scar on my side, between my ribs, there is no external evidence of the accident.
I've had several medical professionals tell me that I'm very lucky to be alive, and I feel it. I feel almost as if someone has put a curse on me, and I kinda hope it's true, just so I can say "Ha! You think you can keep me down? I can get back up after anything." I may have bad luck, but I'm one tough bitch. The accident has kinda given me a new lease on life. I'm getting more ballsy. I'm not afraid to try new things, like let my brother's girlfriend cut off all my hair. (I'm currently sporting the shortest hair I've ever had in my life! It's a cute bed-head, longish pixie look).
I'm going job-hunting in Ajax next week. I've been spoiled up until now, living off illness pay. It's time to join the working world again before I forget how earning a living feels. Wish me luck - just don't tell me to break a leg, 'cause I probably will!