ElderChicks

I lay on my back on the sidewalk, my legs spread and raised, as if I were preparing for a pelvic exam. I was hyper alert, taking in all the sights and sounds around me. I felt no pain. Most people walked around me, but occasionally someone stopped to say, “You’ll be all right” or “I’m sure you’re just fine.” Their voices droned on, irritating me. I had to stop the chatter.

“How do you know I’ll be all right?” I challenged the next person.

“Because I’m a doctor.”

“What kind of a doctor are you?” I asked the stranger.

“An obstetrician-gynecologist.”

I almost laughed, considering the awkward spread of my legs. “Thank you for your kindness,” I told him, “but you’re not getting near me!”My legs were a mess, shattered but still identifiable –because they were located below my knees and above my feet. I chattered away as if I were hosting a gathering for Charleston pedestrians… as if nothing extraordinary had happened while I was strolling with my husband Harold after our anniversary dinner.

I had heard the loud collision but hadn’t seen it. With me on its grille, the car smashed into the tore’s brick wall and set off a burglar alarm. Suddenly, everything stopped. I lay on my back, 900 miles from home, crushed between the sidewalk and the inside of a store window. Now the policemen were by my side with an ambulance crew.

And so started the eighteen month uphill climb to recovery. As each day passed and I was still in the hospital I began to notice changes in me. I was no longer the upbeat woman, engaged in a career that I loved, who had accompanied her husband to Charleston. Life had beaten me down. Frustration and disappointment dictated my mood more often than not. Lying in bed, day after day, without much movement, waiting for progress, had made me passive and dependent. It had cooled my fire. I had to cope with bone grafts, skin grafts, hyperbaric chambers, external fixators, metal stabilizers, and countless operations necessary to mend my crushed bones. And pain! More pain than my weakened body and soul could endure.

I had come to a crossroads in my life.

I knew it would be easy to just give in and feel sorry for myself. But I realized that I cold apply all my years of helping others regain strength to myself. I knew that if I put all my energy into healing, I would have the strength to see the brighter side of each day. I knew that people would gather around me to support me as I tried to conquer each day, one at a time.

Don’t think I was a model of  sunny disposition all the time. And don’t think I would have been able to reach recovery alone. My health care providers at all levels of the medical hierarchy were a cross between angel and healer. Nothing about being cooped up with a sick, often cranky person, day after day, performing unpleasant, menial tasks could have been simple, easy, or fun. How these tender, competent caregivers retained their  sanity putting up with me is a mystery. The doctors, aides, friends, my husband (who was my BEST friend) and our children were the coaches and cheerleaders who coaxed me back to health, hope, and vitality.

It’s fifteen years later and I still need weekly physical therapy, orthotics in my specially made shoes, and a daily exercise regimen in order to enjoy vital wonderful life. A person’s life has its own agenda with ups, downs, and challenges. No one asks to be in a car accident.  No one asks for cancer. (Yes, that was the next zinger in my life –both mine and my husband’s. He died after 46 years of marriage.)

We may find ourselves unknowledgeable, disoriented, and ill prepared to cope. But we have no choice, really, except to make peace with whatever happens. So we educate ourselves, stay grounded, and do the best we can with the decisions that permit us some influence.  Throughout the years I have made many choices that were within my control. Some were easy, some difficult, and some plain impossible, but  they were mine to decide. Acceptance and adjustment to situations beyond my control are my greatest ongoing challenges. What I have learned is that it pays off to expend all my energy on the things I can affect, and to waste none on the things I cannot. But it’s not always easy to know the difference. [Leave a comment here.]

By Marylen Oberman (Marylen is a retired clinical psychologist who divides her time between Ann Arbor, MI and Longboat Key, FL. She’s a swimmer, reader, chef, film buff,  knitter, and forward marcher. Click here for a link to her book “Crash Course – Life Lessons That Got Me Back on My Feet.”)