In December of 2008, in the dark hours of the early morning, I took the first step onto the no return bridge between lives so starkly different in my mind that sometimes it is hard for me to believe that the Caitlin I was and the Caitlin I am share the same social security number.
The Caitlin I was that night would have expected to see it coming, but she didn't. I didn't.
It snuck up on me.
Back then, I was an emergency medical technician. I was responding to an emergency call for a person who was, for a brief moment, dead. My partner and I worked smoothly and quickly, and in the span of 2 minutes after our arrival, the patient stopped being dead. In fact, by the time we were preparing to transport the patient to the hospital, the patient was holding conversations, however illogical those conversations may have been. I had been on similar calls in the past, and I was so relieved that this time our efforts had been rewarded. The patient would live. The family was pleased with us.
This is where, in the process of doing my job, a pain I can only partially describe as fire burst through my nerves, igniting in the center of my back, and radiating in numerous bottle rockets towards my shoulders and neck, across every rib in my chest, racing downward like fiery fingers through all the nerves in my legs until halted by the ends of my toes.
It was just a fragment of a second. A spinal injury.
It is something that happens so fast that the gasp outlasts the initial white flash of pain. I didn't see it coming. Even after it happened, I still didn't see it coming.
In reality, that very moment was exactly where one life ended and another began, but I didn't know it. I was clinging desperately to the idea of being able to get back to where I had been, even though my second version of life had started without my permission.
It is as if my life has been written as a series of novels, and that was both the end of one book and the beginning of the sequel. I am not the author of those books. I promise you that if I was the author, I would have written quite differently. There would not have been a spinal injury in my book. There would have been unicorns, and fairies, and pirates, and telekinesis, and telepathy, and shape shifting, and the ability to fly, and the ability to breath under water.
But there would not have been a spinal injury.
Needless to say, I have meddled with my fair share of bitterness, and then some. I have replayed that night through my mind so many times, kicking myself for not seeing it coming, for not preventing it, scolding my partner for his part in it. I have darkly referred to it in my mind as "the night my life was ruined" too many times. I have wondered about fate, and if it would have happened no matter what job I had.
Only recently, though, have I been able to see it as what it is: A twist in the plot.
A sudden, unexpected occurrence that drags the main character through mind bending realizations, lesson-learning pain, and brutal instructions in patience and perspective. As any reader knows, I needed to wait and keep reading to see past the plot twist.
For too long, I have spent time bemoaning the circumstances, responding in self pity, focusing on what I lost. I forgot, for a moment, to look to God, my author, and trust that there is a higher purpose in this "book" than my own whimpering. It is a rare thing for a plot twist to be the end of a book, but the main character usually doesn't think about that.
I would love to be able to tell you, blogfriend, that everything makes sense now, but I can't. I have no doubt it will end happily ever after, and then it will all make sense, but at that point, I won't be around to tell you about it. All I can tell you right now is that where ever this story ends up taking me, I am interested in the adventure.
Really, I am not even sure what the purpose of this entry is, except that I felt like writing about it. About the moment when I finished one book, and picked up the sequel. About crossing a bridge. About the night the lightning shot through me.
Maybe, in the near future, I will feel like writing more about it, in which case, this seems to be a good preface.
Until then, thanks for reading.
The Caitlin I was that night would have expected to see it coming, but she didn't. I didn't.
It snuck up on me.
Back then, I was an emergency medical technician. I was responding to an emergency call for a person who was, for a brief moment, dead. My partner and I worked smoothly and quickly, and in the span of 2 minutes after our arrival, the patient stopped being dead. In fact, by the time we were preparing to transport the patient to the hospital, the patient was holding conversations, however illogical those conversations may have been. I had been on similar calls in the past, and I was so relieved that this time our efforts had been rewarded. The patient would live. The family was pleased with us.
This is where, in the process of doing my job, a pain I can only partially describe as fire burst through my nerves, igniting in the center of my back, and radiating in numerous bottle rockets towards my shoulders and neck, across every rib in my chest, racing downward like fiery fingers through all the nerves in my legs until halted by the ends of my toes.
It was just a fragment of a second. A spinal injury.
It is something that happens so fast that the gasp outlasts the initial white flash of pain. I didn't see it coming. Even after it happened, I still didn't see it coming.
In reality, that very moment was exactly where one life ended and another began, but I didn't know it. I was clinging desperately to the idea of being able to get back to where I had been, even though my second version of life had started without my permission.
It is as if my life has been written as a series of novels, and that was both the end of one book and the beginning of the sequel. I am not the author of those books. I promise you that if I was the author, I would have written quite differently. There would not have been a spinal injury in my book. There would have been unicorns, and fairies, and pirates, and telekinesis, and telepathy, and shape shifting, and the ability to fly, and the ability to breath under water.
But there would not have been a spinal injury.
Needless to say, I have meddled with my fair share of bitterness, and then some. I have replayed that night through my mind so many times, kicking myself for not seeing it coming, for not preventing it, scolding my partner for his part in it. I have darkly referred to it in my mind as "the night my life was ruined" too many times. I have wondered about fate, and if it would have happened no matter what job I had.
A sudden, unexpected occurrence that drags the main character through mind bending realizations, lesson-learning pain, and brutal instructions in patience and perspective. As any reader knows, I needed to wait and keep reading to see past the plot twist.
For too long, I have spent time bemoaning the circumstances, responding in self pity, focusing on what I lost. I forgot, for a moment, to look to God, my author, and trust that there is a higher purpose in this "book" than my own whimpering. It is a rare thing for a plot twist to be the end of a book, but the main character usually doesn't think about that.
I would love to be able to tell you, blogfriend, that everything makes sense now, but I can't. I have no doubt it will end happily ever after, and then it will all make sense, but at that point, I won't be around to tell you about it. All I can tell you right now is that where ever this story ends up taking me, I am interested in the adventure.
Really, I am not even sure what the purpose of this entry is, except that I felt like writing about it. About the moment when I finished one book, and picked up the sequel. About crossing a bridge. About the night the lightning shot through me.
Maybe, in the near future, I will feel like writing more about it, in which case, this seems to be a good preface.
Until then, thanks for reading.
Powerful stuff. Thanks for sharing--I had no idea. Glad for the bridge crossing!
ReplyDeleteThe body is weak, but there is a strong Spirit in you.... can't wait to read the sequel.
ReplyDeleteLinda T. from OC