“If you keep telling the same sad story you will keep living the same sad life.” Jean Houston
This is the inspiring quote I wanted to start my blog with today. When I had my car crash accident in 1985, I spent 7 hours in the OR I had plenty of time to think, since the anesthesia was done locally laying down on that cold table I was fully awake. My feet were getting cold I could hear everything from the surgeon to the instrument being moved on the surgical table. I was still a teenager at that time the only thing I could see was the “Canadienne” which meant they put a blue drape on the top of my chest, so I could not see what they were doing. Once in a while a nurse would check on me asking me how I was doing. My back started to hurt but I could not just stand up and walk away. After I came back from the hospital I had no idea how bad my injuries were since they were covered in bandages.
The first morning I was back home my mother told me to do not do anything, but I decided otherwise. I did clean up the house and act as if everything was as usual. People started to show up at home wanting to see what was under the bandages. I still wasn’t being told the truth nor having someone fully explain to me the extent of my injuries.
I had to go back to the hospital every day to change the bandages. It took over an hour to two hours of painful process to do it. After a couple of weeks, we were able to go to the nurse practitioner who was living in our village to change my bandages. During that time, I was under high doses of antibiotics. The nurse wasn’t hopeful of the chances for my wounds to heal and it looked like it might turn into gangrene. More amputation could have been in my future. While all of that was happening, my spirit was fighting unknowingly of what was at stake for me. I kept on adapting myself to the daily chores at home. Keeping moving to the next day, thinking positively and seeing myself healthy.
Some of my mother’s friends came to visit at home with sad looks on their faces, treating me like a poor little thing. Which, to be honest, started to irritate me to the highest level. I wasn’t accepting their pity and did not consider myself as “handicapped”.
Finally, after a month on pins and needles my body started the process of healing. Which to the relief of my mother, was a blessing, I still had no idea how bad it was and how closed I came to be going back to surgery for an amputation. I was starting to do my own bandages, I did not have to see the nurse as much only once every few weeks.
Now was the worst part, as my healing was almost complete, I started to not want to wear any bandages. I spent over two months, at least, with bandages and I had enough of it. This is where you feel like an animal put on display. People wanted to see my injuries, looking at me with a sad face. I could have easily fallen into the “poor me attitude” but my spirit would not have it. Playing the “poor me” card to everyone so I could feel the attention. But instead during the entire ordeal, I kept repeating to myself the following “there are people in this world that are in worst condition than me and they are not complaining but doing better than me so s***** up and get going”
Even at my worst I never complained about it but kept my head up and going. I had to ask the Little One to help to do some of the tasks I couldn’t do, but she did them for me graciously. I had to have two more surgeries afterward which were horribly painful because they were cutting in the same area each time, but I kept quiet. My mother was upset during the last surgery, she saw on my face I was in pain, but I would not open my mouth to say it. I kept going and moving forward keeping the same mantra “there are people in this world that are in worst condition than me and they are not complaining but doing better than me so s***** up and get going”
It may sound like a horrible mantra to say that to yourself but in fact I never found myself with self-pity. It is not who I am, and I had better things to do than stepping into those vicious circles. Self-pity will not help you to archive miracles in your life. Depending on others to feel better is not something my spirit wanted to deal with. As a warrior, I had to pick myself up and be humble about what happened to me. Acknowledging I had to restart my life now and learn again a few things I couldn’t do. It was a few decades later when my mother had a minor accident at her restaurant and she then realized how much I went through, even though she had just a minor injury, but instead of playing the “poor me” card she remembered how quiet and brave I was when I was going through my ordeal, even though she would never understand the pain I was going through.
The moral of that true story? I never let self-pity get to me, I never expected to be treated differently than others. I kept doing what I was normally doing at home and at school even though I do have some limitations, I learned to improvised. I keep pushing my body beyond its limit because I will never accept to be label less than “I am limitless”
At the time of my accident I had two choices on my journey take a right turn that led me where I am today or the left turn to self-pity where I would use my injuries and limitation every day to have people’s attention and be nowhere.
I made my choice.
For everyone reading this blog today are you living your life as limitless or self-pity aka “little sad story”?
You will accomplish more when you are shifting your mind to positive and push yourself to become limitless.
FYI I will not describe to anyone what kind injuries I sustained, the reason is simple I do not need to have any extra attention on my scars. Those injuries are not the focus of this blog but my mantra and my will power it took for me to come back from it.