Back in my thirties, I had a stroke caused by a hive, urticaria, which was accompanied by an NDE. Up to that point in my life, I was a type A+ personality.
While most people still consider me a type A, I think I am more of a type C. I am in full throttle, but I am seeing, appreciating, and enjoying the beauty that weaves through my surroundings and my connections with flesh and known, but virtual friends.
My dogs keep me grounded in reality and several of my sons are closer now as adults living across our continent than when living in the same town. Of course, we are all older and at times grow reflective.
It appears lately that holidays and I have a love/hate relationship. Last mother's day was the first one in four years I had not misstepped ending in a ride to the hospital for rejoining joints.
2016 started out well, no mishaps, no dings, no disjointedness. Then February with its extra day showed up. The temperatures started erratic action having changes from warm to cold within the space of an hour, or a mile or two.
Since last year when my husband took an unexpected visit to our local hospital ER, and several days later a revisit to a thirty-eight day stay in their ICU fighting for his life and now in a rehab working towards a neck trach/ventilator removal, my time has been spent several hours on the road and half days with him.
I'm the talker, always have been, but spending an hour or two reading aloud is vastly different than dominating the conversation load. He cannot speak aloud so he listens to my prattle on the daily tasks and is able to convey to me when he absolutely needs something.
One item on our list of goals has been a trip to Ireland. Both of us have ancestors from the Emerald Isle, he more than I, but the wish to tour, especially the countryside, is alive in both of us.
Yesterday, being St. Patrick's Day, I grabbed one of the books we have on Irish culture and Ireland, put it in my rolling suitcase prepared to share the wee folk and the food preparation with Paul. First was a stop at my youngest son and daughter in law's home for her first time cooking of Cabbage and Corned Beef. We had a hurried but delicious meal. Megan is an excellent cook and one my son, I am sure, is grateful beyond measure for having in his life.
Megan is not much taller than I but favors an SUV. I have issues with actually obtaining a place therein, but as she was to pick up her sister from the rehab I was heading to, I was hitching a ride and going to attempt climbing onto the front seat.
I did mention I am a wee bit shorter, but not that I'm a tad over thirty years older, and it appeared insurmountable. However, the do or die spirit is alive and well, so I tried to bounce to get up far enough to grab interior areas. That accomplished driving my dollar glasses riding atop my head, into my scalp.
I did not panic, only retreated while ripping the nosepiece of the glasses out of scalp causing a gush of blood to race into my hair and slither down my face. Megan too was brave, running for a wet cloth and a dry to stanch the blood. She has been known to faint at the sight of blood, so she did well. She managed to help get me settled into the seat and buckled up as well.
I got triage care with cleaning and anointing the wound, putting on healing HZ which dissipate a headache I had instantly got in contact with the SUV door frame and after telling Paul I brought the book but it must wait for another reading time, we had a quiet visit. But the nurses tell me, he is more settled when I am here with him, so talking was not necessary.
On the drive home, on a divided highway, out of the darkness of the reach of headlights appeared a car in our lane in a head on collision course. “What the?”Out of my mouth, while my son swerved onto the shoulder and stopped.
Moments before, we had looked ahead and saw the flashing carnival lights of a police car on the opposite side of the highway stopped with a car in front. Within seconds, of the near head on car whizzing by us, the police car was crossing the median with a downward into the gully and plop up onto our side, lights flashing and speeding after the hell bent car.
Another memorable holiday… to look back on and say, Thank you God, for your prayer warriors and your angels.
Here is the news follow-up on the wrong way driver: http://longisland.news12.com/news/police-centereach-man-drove-high-wrong-way-on-route-27-1.11590850
Photo courtesy of FreeDigitalPhoto.net
Expressway at night by Samarttiw