Well it has now been 4 weeks since the accident. And I've come a long way baby. I am back at my own place, finally being able to take care of myself and walk up and down my stairs.
When Ashley dropped me off on Tuesday I didn't want to let him go. I cried because I've been very well taken care of by him and it was a joy to be able to see him every day. But of course it didn't take long for me to feel comforted by being in my own room, surrounded by my own things.
There's something very positive as well about being able to take care of myself even though I am far from being 100% recovered.
This week I've crossed the street twice where I was hit. I did it because I decided that the only way to tackle this thing is to be a fighter. I can't let fear get the best of me. I have to go on, life goes on. I don't really have much choice about that and the sooner I decide to get on with things in a positive way, the sooner I'll be okay again.
There's been absolutely nothing easy about any of this. I've had to come to terms with the fact that I may have a slight disability resulting from the trauma to my head. That seriously isn't easy to think about, but at the same time, knowledge is power. If I am going to beat this I have to live a life of acceptance, of humility, and of courage. Everyday will have its own challenges. At the moment I'm worried about the inevitable return to work. This of course is in the hands of a doctor who is new to me, only having met her in the wake of this nightmare. She doesn't know me very well and on Monday I find out what she will recommend.
Will she decide that I should go back to work or will she allow me more time off? I don't know and it scares me.
If she says I have to go back to work I will have to do it. It will be something I will also have to tackle with courage, much the same as facing my fears and walking across that street and staring down defeat.
I am fighter. I will beat this.
When Ashley dropped me off on Tuesday I didn't want to let him go. I cried because I've been very well taken care of by him and it was a joy to be able to see him every day. But of course it didn't take long for me to feel comforted by being in my own room, surrounded by my own things.
There's something very positive as well about being able to take care of myself even though I am far from being 100% recovered.
This week I've crossed the street twice where I was hit. I did it because I decided that the only way to tackle this thing is to be a fighter. I can't let fear get the best of me. I have to go on, life goes on. I don't really have much choice about that and the sooner I decide to get on with things in a positive way, the sooner I'll be okay again.
There's been absolutely nothing easy about any of this. I've had to come to terms with the fact that I may have a slight disability resulting from the trauma to my head. That seriously isn't easy to think about, but at the same time, knowledge is power. If I am going to beat this I have to live a life of acceptance, of humility, and of courage. Everyday will have its own challenges. At the moment I'm worried about the inevitable return to work. This of course is in the hands of a doctor who is new to me, only having met her in the wake of this nightmare. She doesn't know me very well and on Monday I find out what she will recommend.
Will she decide that I should go back to work or will she allow me more time off? I don't know and it scares me.
If she says I have to go back to work I will have to do it. It will be something I will also have to tackle with courage, much the same as facing my fears and walking across that street and staring down defeat.
I am fighter. I will beat this.
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Take care.