There is a famous saying, “the sky is the limit.” Several years ago, I was out jogging with my two of five dogs. I so enjoyed jogging in the fresh air and especially in the evening to clear my mind and help me to sleep. I had left a little later than I wanted to on this particular evening so I was more hurried than usual. I went on my route that took me through University campus with beautiful grassy areas, trees and many students scurrying to get to their evening classes. As I made my loop and headed back down the hill, I remember seeing the sun hanging in the horizon and then – I fell, I hit my knee and proceeded to smack my forehead directly on the cement sidewalk. I recall now pushing up on my hands and saying, “oh, no, I have hit my head,” and I rolled to my left hip because my left knee hurt. After that, I did not remember much for at least a month.
When I began to recall the events, almost one month to my fall, it came in very clear. I had sat on my left hip and passed out, hitting the side of my head on the cement. When I awoke, it was dark and my dogs were still on their leashes that were around my wrists. I could not move, but I could see feet walking past me and could hear voices. I hollered, I thought, but the swelling in my brain was so immediate that it had affected my speech. I remember wondering why no one was helping me. Then the thought occurred to me that I could be dead. But I could see my dogs moving around, so I was not dead!
When I could finally push myself up to a sitting position, I saw the blood and knew something was really wrong. I had my cell phone with me but did not know how to use it or who to call. I found out later I had called my sister and a friend, but I had not made much sense so they were very worried.
Somehow, I walked to a hospital about fifteen minutes away. When I arrived, someone saw me holding my head and got a wheelchair and took me to the emergency room. Because I could not tell them what had happened, the police officer came and spoke with me and took a photo.
Even today, I still do not fully recall how I ever walked to that hospital or how I figured out which way to go. I may never recall that.
I was put in an exam room and when the woman who asks about insurance came in to speak with me, I just starred at her. She brought the nurse in and I was quickly moved to another side of the emergency room. I recall clearly hearing the nurse say to me, “you just bought yourself a ticket to the other side.” I thought I was going to die and she was hurrying me to an area away from others in the emergency room.
I went for a CT scan of my brain. As I was being wheeled back to a room the nurse said, “I cannot believe you do not have a bleed.” All of this was frightening.
The doctors and nurses gave me a lot of medications, my vital signs were watched closely and the laceration of my forehead was stitched up. I was in the emergency room for close to seven hours before they released me. This entire ordeal took two years to remember. My vision had really been affected. I had no peripheral vision in my right eye. When I looked at anyone or anything, one eye showed things very close and the other eye showed everything very far away. I was not permitted to drive for six months. I recall walking out front of our house and feeling like I had no balance at all. Any crack in the sidewalk seemed like it was feet apart and I would try to jump over the huge crevasses.
My sister now lets me know that she really worried if I would ever be the sister she remembered. I had very little memory, I did not laugh much, I would get angry very quickly and I would get lost often. Many times, when my sister spoke with me, she felt like “the lights are on but no one is home.
I went to rehab to learn many skills again. The one thing I learned was my limitations. I was always someone who could function just fine on five to six ours of sleep a night. I had energy and accomplished much during a day. Now, I had to limit TV watching, cleaning house, yard work and there was no driving. I had to sleep between twelve and fourteen hours a day so my brain could heal. I recall the rehab doctor saying to me that at my age, if I did not follow his instructions precisely, I might not recover fully. He told me never to “hit the wall of exhaustion.” I really was not sure what that meant.
I remember one evening having done too much. I thought I was doing better and I cleaned the house and ran some errands with family members. When I returned home, I felt sick, my head just was not functioning right. My vision was off and I felt nauseated and with a throbbing headache. I realized I had “hit the wall.” I now know what this meant and was determined to never do that again. I had always believed in that saying, “the sky is the limit.” My life now is more practical. I still accomplish a lot, but I have learned to be kind to myself. I take naps when I need to feel well and not cram so much into a day. I take daily walks (no more jogging). I enjoy my dogs more, I listen more, I feel the sun on my face and soak it up. I love to see the storms move in across the sky. I read more, I laugh more and I know myself better than before my accident. I have limitations now and I have embraced them, but they do not limit me from a life of peace, wellness and grace. I am moving forward daily on exploring “the sky is the limit” for me and how I can have well-being.
