Instead of doing the logical thing of getting myself together, I went to Kroger and bought a container of Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream. Not a small container; the size that is just under a half gallon. I brought it home and thought about it all afternoon. After Jerry left for work, I dished out a (large) helping of it and started eating. After that bowl was finished, I went back for more. And more. And before I knew it, I had finished it off.
I was so full and lethargic after eating that. I hadn't binged like that since before losing over a hundred pounds. I felt so guilty--about eat like a cow, and about lying on the couch afterward because I felt so full and sick. I felt like the world's worst mother, and I decided to ask the kids if they'd like to watch a movie with me. I let them choose the movie, and they chose Wall-E.
I so badly wanted the ice cream to hurry up and digest because I felt SO FULL. I was lying on the couch, and Noah was lying next to me; Eli was sitting by my feet. At about 7:45 pm, I noticed that Noah had fallen asleep. I remember it was the part of the movie where the space ship tilts, and all the people start sliding down to the bottom. I decided to take Noah to bed and tuck him in. Eli was still awake.
I picked Noah up (at 6 years old, he was about 50-55 pounds). I carried him to his bed, and set him on the top bunk. I tucked his covers around him, and he woke up. Sleepily, he asked if I would turn on his TV. I said sure, that I would turn on a movie for him. I turned on his DVD player, and was overcome with nausea.
I started to feel light headed, and my mouth was watering really badly like it does before you vomit--I thought, "Oh no, I'm going to throw up this ice cream! I better get to the bathroom." And I started walking toward the door of Noah's bedroom, nauseous and with tunnel-vision.
The next thing I remember was feeling disoriented, confused, and my head felt extremely heavy. I realized I was lying on the floor face-down, my arms at my sides. I realized I had fainted, landing flat on my face. I started moving my limbs to make sure nothing was broken. I lifted my head and my vision was kind of blurry, but I finally recognized where I was. My face felt wet, and when I looked down, there was a big puddle of blood on the floor.
I panicked when I realized it was coming from my mouth, because I thought maybe I lost some teeth. I started feeling my teeth with my tongue to make sure they were all there, and then it hit me: I realized I had broken my jaw. I couldn't bite my teeth together, because the center of the lower half of my mouth felt like it had collapsed. My teeth were so misaligned, and I kept trying to bite them together, thinking maybe it just popped out of place and I could pop it back in.
I ran to the bathroom and started spitting out blood into the sink, and rinsing my mouth out. There was a hole through the skin under my lower lip, and another hole on the bottom of my chin, and that's where the blood was coming from. Once I realized that this was not something I could fix myself, I looked for my phone. I frantically called my mom (who lives just 2/3 of a mile away) and she heard the panic in my voice. She rushed over.
And that would begin what would become six nights at the hospital, including two surgeries and having my jaws wired shut for the holidays. You can read the rest of the story and see all the pictures on my "The Accident" page.
I don't know why this became such a defining moment of my life. Lots of people break bones and it doesn't consume their thoughts. I think about this accident every single day of my life. Every time I'm tempted to eat too much sugar; every time I eat ice cream; every time I look in the mirror and see my scars and my jaw that isn't very proportioned anymore.
And as weird and creepy as this is going to sound, there is a small speck of blood on the backsplash of my bathroom sink. It's been there for a year. And when I clean, I clean around it. I cannot bring myself to wipe it off. I know--I realize this sounds ridiculous.
If I could go back to a year ago today, I wouldn't change anything, as strange as it sounds. I learned who my true friends were, and that my family would do just about anything for me. I learned not to be afraid of surgery--which gave me the courage to seek out a plastic surgeon for my lower body lift. I learned that my body really missed running when I had to take a few weeks off. I learned that my body does NOT like it when I eat too much sugar--I get severe anxiety, shakes, and a racing heart. I learned how to make a smoothie/protein shake at least a thousand different ways ;) And I think the accident was a cruel way of getting my ass back on track.
|The best outcome from the whole ordeal was spending so much time with my family!|
So, friends, eat something hard and crunchy today, for me--just because you CAN! :)