Never did I think that I would start writing a blog in search for strength and hope. More than anything, to help me accept this new reality. I had often thought about writing a blog on more frivolous and mundane subjects. A travel journal or a recipe blog perhaps. But never did I think I would find the need to write about and share our nightmarish reality.
On the 3rd of May, 2015, my husband and I met with an accident. A real bad one. The kind you think happens in movies, or you read about in the news. The kind that happens to others. But not you. Never you. But it happened to us. Life threw us a nasty curveball. And I am trying very hard to accept this new reality.
We had decided to take a break on a sunny Sunday evening, heading towards the Kettle Morraine State Park via a quiet Wisconsin countryside. It was the three of us at our happiest; Jitish and his two babies (his motorcycle and I).
A 19 year old girl changed our lives forever. Irreparably and irrevocably. She decided against yielding at a stop sign. One unassuming little stop sign on a fourway street. A very important stop sign. The Impact was swift and severe. I remember every gut wrenching and painful second of the accident. From the moment I felt the impact, getting thrown off the bike, hitting the road hard to hearing the blades of the Medflight take him to the University of Wisconsin-Madison hospital.
He suffered an acute traumatic brain injury. Cracked his skull in multiple places. A Diffuse axonal injury, the most common and devastating types of brain injury. Severe damage to the frontal lobe, and left and right temporals. Everything from movement, motor function, speech, memory, motivation, to personality. Everything that makes him, him. Big giant whoop.
It has been 88 days. I am trying to not mourn these 88 days. Instead, I am searching for strength and courage to face this reality. Strength and courage to advocate for him and fight to get him back a 100 percent. But I am far from strong. I need him to be strong. I cry on cue. He makes me strong. “It’s your turn to be strong”, everyone keeps telling me. “Be strong for him”.
I’m trying. But I break down quite often. Banks, insurance agents, lawyers, disability providers and family keep me busy. We have been hopping from one hotel to another for three months. That keeps us all in a constant state of disarray. There is a lot to keep my mind from imploding. But nights still come. And I stay awake wondering ‘why’. Why did this happen? Why us? Why him?
I am slowly losing it. Counsellors, doctors, case managers, family and friends suggest I find an outlet. Not just the mirror in the bathroom. But a real outlet. And so, I write.
I have been noting down everything from day 0. From Bills, insurance processes, disability, FMLA requirements, civil court lawyers, probate court lawyers, medicines and processes that he undergoes. In addition to the meteor that has struck us, we are nor American citizens. We are on work permits in the country. Making Medicare and other benefits impossible for us. But we have to take it. Take the cards we are dealt and show life what we are made of.
I hope that writing doesn’t just help me, but also helps someone out there living a similar reality. I pray no one has to deal with this. But if life plays a joke on you too, then I hope what I am learning helps you find strength.