Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

Archives for July 2013

Staycation

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The first couple of days home the major task on our agenda was taking our medicine and trying to keep ahead of the pain. That’s decreasing and our number one activity now is changing our bandages twice a day. Since Paul’s entire forearm is a mess and Eden and I have two wounds a piece, it’s quite the production.  Eden is a child and I’m squeamish, so it’s entirely Paul’s show.

Ever since I looked in the mirror at the hospital and instantly burst into tears, I’ve averted my gaze. I don’t like any gore, and certainly not a mess of it on my face. Eden’s being a little toughie and other than being a little bored, she’s cheerful and in good spirits.
I’m sad our vacation was co-opted. It’s no fun being tired and in pain and missing out on all the fun things we were going to do. I’m still incredibly thankful to be alive: it’s not either/or; it’s a both/and.
I’m thankful for several refunds on hotels, tickets and programs. One, the largest—hundreds and hundreds of dollars—we didn’t even have to ask about, they just quietly credited our account.
I’m thankful for arnica. My eyes seem to be settling into a sallow yellow. They still may turn into black and blue, perhaps green, but today they’re a light mustard and I’m grateful for that.
And I’m so thankful for family and friends. This accident is a small thing. I’m not minimizing it, I just believe we’re going to recover soon, and it’s not going to dominate our lives once the bandages are removed. We may have some scarring, but we won’t be scarred, if that makes sense. And yet, in the short term at least, it’s a very big thing and the kindness of people who care about us has helped so much.

Three Clues Your Vacation Has Gone Terribly Awry

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1. This is your view for the better part of what should have been Day One:

2.  That evening you’re home again and what should have been Day Two, you have these posted on your fridge:

3. Your van is in an impound in Canada and looks like this:

 and this:

Short story: we had an accident early Saturday morning outside London, Ontario on our way out east and spent the day in the E.R. Christopher and Lydia were bruised and shaken; Eden got stitches in her forehead and hand—it’s driving her crazy they didn’t tell her how many because it was A LOT—Paul’s left forearm is hamburger—it scraped along the high way when we were on our side before the van flipped over entirely and came to a stop—and his legs have some impressive cuts.

I have a sprained ankle, a torn up elbow and, according to the doctor, my days as a forehead model are over. Of course I have a couple natural remedies up my sleeve, so we’ll see about that.

The crash itself was so incredibly terrible and then we were all separated in the E.R. I’ve never had all my children in a medical emergency. Being in one of my own, and not able to be there for any of them was beyond horrible. But they were all amazing, as any of you who know them can imagine. Lydia was discharged first and she tracked down Eden, never leaving her side until Paul was discharged. Their nurses came to meet me to, in their words, “gush” about how wonderful they were.

Christopher lost his processor in the accident so he went quiet. When he saw the van at the impound he began to weep, “I just can’t believe we survived,” he said.

None of us could. Mainly we’re thankful. “I’m just so grateful,” Eden said to Paul as he tucked her in last night, “I’m just so glad we’re all here and alive.”

I’ll be honest, I also feel a little sheepish. I don’t want to be those people who run after chaos and though I know this was an accident, still. When the house was burning I thought, “You have GOT to be kidding me.” because we had already been through so much. Sitting by the side of the 402 with a pillow clasped to my forehead to staunch the blood I couldn’t believe we were in this jam, but I was in too much pain to analyze it.

Later, at the impound, as Paul and I quickly and easily sorted through what could be salvaged and what should be trashed because—you know—we’re experienced, I told him “We have GOT to stop doing this.” And he agreed, so there’s that.