“Stay with me! Stay with me! You’re going to be ok,” an unfamiliar voice, insisted.
My body was limped and everything appeared to be a blur.
What happened? How did this happen? Who are you?
A minute ago, I was laughing and chatting with my friend as she drove me home from school on a chilly rainy November day. And now, pain shot through my entire body.
Who is this person touching me?
I was frighten to death.
“She’s leaving us! She’s leaving us!” the paramedics shouted while reaching for medical supplies and ripping my clothes off. “What is your name?”
I couldn’t respond. Their words were fading away, slowly but surely, I could no longer hear them clearly. Their voice was gone—I’d lost conscious.
As I struggled to reopen my eyes, the scene was different–pale and slightly quieter.
Beep, ejected from the machines.
Cords dangled from my cripple body while recognizing that the space wasn’t my home.
Where am I? It was the Trauma Intensive Care Unit.
“What happened? And where’s Lindsay” I whispered softly to my mom that hovered over me.
With tears in her eyes, she uttered not a word, but sang the tune of, “Shhhhhh!
Uh! Oh! Things are bad. I thought.
Memories danced around in my head—laughter, rain drops, the car turning left, a truck, a loud crash, spinning, a pole, the paramedics, and pain.
With one week away from my 18th birthday, I was a victim in a car accident.
Unlike most Seniors that balanced school work and dress shopping for prom, I had to be confided to a wheel chair and a bed in my home. No friends to discuss current events with in class. Not even a lunch date–nothing at all. I had months to recover in order for my bones and heart to heal properly.
It took me a year to recover and I am much more stronger. So please don’t take my experience and feel sorry for what I endured because I am a believer of the old saying, “Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly?”
Look at me–I am a butterfly. There’s healing in sharing my story.
(Written by: Ce)