Hanging in there

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Such a Nice Bad Day…

Published January 21, 2018 by Nan Mykel

Today I rear-ended a man’s van or car or something on my way back to Athens on Route 7 from my weekly visit to take Mandy out to lunch. I don’t believe he had his rear or turn lights on because surely I would have noticed him sooner than I did. That’s another way of saying I totalled my car. He was making a left turn into his driveway or something. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t start my car afterwards to get off the road. I asked the policeman* why my car wouldn’t start, and he said, “You haven’t looked at the front of your car, have you?”  I was also without my cell phone or phone book.

GOOD THING:  had my seatbelt on, so am alive, walking, talking and blogging. Also had my up to date drivers license with me.

The policeman* asked if I knew where I was, what the date was, and what road I was on..

GOOD THING:   I came up with three correct answers

The policeman asked me how I was feeling

GOOD THING:  I said “sad.”

The closest towing company was 3/4 hour away, in the opposite direction of my goal: Athens.

GOOD THING:  People asked if I was okay and the tow truck man drove me about 5 miles closer to Athens and then used his cell phone in a series of calls to friends in Athens, to no  avail. He said his mother-in-law lived very nearby, and he drove us  there and I was given a heavenly piece of fruit cake his mother-in-law had baked. 

I had a lot of junk in my car, much of it for Re-Use Industries. I was still stranded 45 minutes from Athens, with no local taxi or bus service. In the [now] dark I temporarily misplaced my credit card and condo key

GOOD THING:  Found my credit card and condo key in the dark. Using his cell phone, he found an Athens cab company that would be willing to get me and accept a credit card.  The tow truck driver had a handy very heavy-duty bag for retrieving things from my wrecked car.  He had gotten another call so couldn’t wait with me (at his mother-in-laws) for the cab to arrive. He maintained contact with the cab company, however, so there wasn’t a missed connection. The cab driver loaded things into his cab and when we arrived at my place unloaded them.

I slipped and fell down a muddy hillet going to my door, When I fell I just lay there a minute, collecting myself.  I think he feared I might be unconscious but I assured him I was just “resting.”  I rode my bottom part of the rest of the way.

GOOD THING:  The cab driver didn’t squawk over a $2 tip, then took the rest of my things down the hillet to my front door; last, he opened my walker so I could make it to the very bottom of the hillet.  

That’s why I feel so good about a bad day.

P.S. In case you think I’m uncaring, the man’s van was sill running, he said he thought his neck hurt, and EMS took him away.  A child and a large dog were unhurt. At one point he got out of his van on his own.

*Probably state trooper

Super-gluing My Bullet Wound – A re-blog

Published October 16, 2017 by Nan Mykel

A spokesperson for many…I’m reblogging.

mymidwestmusing's avatarMy Midwest Musing

A month ago, I was rediagnosed with C-PTSD (Complex PTSD) at the age of 27. I say (and made up) the word rediagnosed because I was originally diagnosed with C-PTSD when I was 21 years old. As most of the important things I was told when I was 21, the diagnosis seemed to evaporate in my realm of consciousness quicker than the first flake of snow that falls on pavement. I saw my C-PTSD as a light switch that I could turn on and off. I felt I had control over it, something that I could even grow out of, and therefore, must only ‘slightly’ have.

Reality was that this illness was not something I could simply grow out of; this illness fit me like a glove since the first day I was exposed to my trauma. It fuels me. It shapes me. It hijacked my personality, desires, and intuitions…

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