I Was Hit by a Truck. For Real.

February 8, 2019

I was hit by a truck. Literally. While I need to keep most details private for now, my husband and I were on a rare date and walking to our destination. One minute we were on the sidewalk and I was complaining about the rain potentially ruining my newly straight hair, and the next we were in the crosswalk when a truck struck me, launched me into the air, and I landed hard on the concrete. They say these things happen fast and I can assure you that’s absolutely true. I didn’t even know I got airborne until my husband told the cops at the hospital a couple hours later. All I knew was I had been hit by a freaking truck, my nice jeans had been ripped, my glasses had flown off, and everything hurt, but in an almost shocking, what the hell just happened way. Oh, and my hair was most certainly getting wet and un-straight. 

 

The next couple of hours were a haze of firefighters checking my injuries, talking to cops, going to the hospital, getting x-rays, being told I was banged up but would ultimately be okay, and shaking… a lot of shaking. Since the accident last Saturday, I haven’t stopped shaking, actually. I’ve also been in a range of shock, anger, sadness, and confusion. While I’m so lucky that my injuries could’ve been far worse, I still have the “what if’s?” echoing in my head. When I was sitting in the hospital that night waiting to hear the results of my x-rays, I kept thinking I was so lucky I would be able to go home and nurse my son that next morning. And then that next morning, I kept thinking “what if I hadn’t been so lucky? What would’ve my son done?” These thoughts consume me, especially late at night when I’m trying to get comfortable but can’t find a position that doesn’t end up crushing a bruise. So, I toss and turn and don’t sleep much. It’s not fun. 

 

And maybe I’ve watched Cruel Intentions too many times, but I also felt really angry with my husband. Why didn’t he push me out of the way or warn me that the car was coming? I know this is irrational because it happened so fast, but I still can’t help feeling that way. And why has he continued on like this was just a normal Saturday night — not giving me any extra TLC, even though I desperately need it or even taking the time to tell me how much he loves me and is glad I didn’t die. Again, this is dumb because obviously I know these things, but when you have an unfortunate situation on your hands you find ways to channel that anger into something (or someone) else. I feel bad, but I feel bad about a lot of things right now. 

 

This also happened the week before my son’s first birthday and the week he was supposed to start his new daycare. It’s hard to take time to rest and process when you’re planning a party for 70 people and caring for a sick toddler who only wants his mommy. When it rains, it pours, I guess. Thank goodness I just happened to go back to therapy the week before. 

 

But, my bruises will heal and life will resume. I think the emotional effects will linger for a bit longer than the physical ones, but those will probably heal in time, as well. I’m just grateful to be alive, even if I am a little bit angry (and scared and sad and emotional and sick and tired and stressed), too. And those feelings will fade in time, or give way to something else. Getting hit by a truck can make you feel a lot of things besides pain. 

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