Merida

After I was released from the hospital, there were a few days before we could get on a flight home.

One day Jonathan thought we should take a bus into the main city (a distance I would normally have walked) and spend some time looking around. I barely had the strength to make it up the steep bus stairs, so I new it would be an interesting day.

We spent most of the day walking half a block, and then resting on a bench until I had the strength to move again. I knew my husband was a real angel to have the patience to deal with that. 

The street vendors were so different with us that day! We weren't conquests any more, just normal people with not so normal problems. People kept stopping us to talk, and ask what happened. They gave advice on the best hospitals and only wanted to help us. It would have been a truly beautiful experience if I wasn't in such pain.

When we finally realized that I was needing a serious rest and a brake from the heat, J noticed a movie theater nearby. We immediately bought tickets and walked in without checking what was playing. We got there at the end of the movie, but decided to see the end, then stay to see the whole thing from the beginning to get a good rest.

The movie was "Volcano". One of the first scenes we watched was of a car accident where Pierce Brosnan's arm was broken, and hanging off in the wrong direction--just how mine had looked. I cried my eyes out, and I think my husband did too. It was the first time we didn't feel like we had to be brave to make it through this thing. It was so nice to cry in the dark where I finally felt safe enough to let go.

The movie soon ended, and then we got to see it all over again! I think that was a "God" moment, where we saw exactly what we needed right then. I would have never chosen to see that movie if I realized that's what was playing, but in a strange way I'm glad I did.

My Story

The car accident actually happened in Mexico, in the middle of nowhere. Somehow I managed to roll the car three times in a freak car accident.

My husband got me to the nearest town in an "ambulance" that was really the back of a pick-up. He then had to go out and buy bandages because the tiny clinic didn't have any. They got me cleaned up and bandaged for the trip to Merida, where they had a good hospital with doctors that were trained in Houston.

I stayed there 9 days and had numerous surgeries to reattach my collar bone and piece together both bones in my forearm. I also had broken ribs, a big gash on my head, a hole in my neck (from the door lock?) and no skin on the part of my chest that had been bashed in. I must have been a sight!

The doctors there treated me very well, and gave me honest answers about the lack of movement or feeling in my arm. They couldn't be sure the extent of the damage since there was too much trauma to be able to see my brachial plexus clearly on an MRI, but were honest about the different things that could happen--including permanent paralysis.

I was very lucky to have an amazing husband by my side. As scared as I was by the possibilities, I felt so incredibly lucky to be alive, and to get to continue to be with him. It was almost an ethereal feeling for me--I have never been so at peace. The worst had happened, so it felt like nothing could hurt me after that!