Two Weeks in Hell

The Discovery Channel calls the US Army's Green Beret selection process "Two Weeks in Hell."  Well, let me just tell you, the Green Berets ain't got nuthin' on me!

Two weeks ago, I posted my latest blog challenge entry.  I finished the end of my work day.  I sat around for an hour after work, watching Netflix on my office computer, while waiting for my younger brother to get out of his staff meeting (he's a staffer for the local University radio station - and since I work at said University, where he is also a student, we carpool.  Thursday's are late nights).  I was at the beginning of the final 24-hour countdown to Friday evening, and leaving for a long weekend in South Carolina, visiting my Bug.

I am so in love with that boy!

Anywho.
Friday afternoon, the clock reads 4:30pm.  And the phone call comes. "Mark's been in an accident.  They're taking him to the hospital by ambulance.  We have no other details."

Mark is my brother-in-law.  He drives a motorcycle.
I ran from my office to my car, which is farther than I've run in a LONG time.
The drive to the hospital, which is only a few miles from where I work, seemed to take an hour.  As I pulled into the parking lot, I passed my sister-in-law just getting out of her truck; she informed me that she dropped my sister off at the emergency room entrance on her way in (sigh of relief; my sister did not drive herself into town).  I find a place to park, and head in.  My nephew and his wife meet me at the entrance.

Known injuries at the time: broken arm, broken collarbone, possibly broken nose.
No report on what happened, who was involved, or where it happened.
The emergency room vigil begins.  The minutes pass in a blur of phone calls, people arriving, others leaving, updates and speculations.  After about an hour, a hospital staffer comes and takes us all back to a private waiting room in the back of the ER, just around the corner from the bay they have Mark in.  More people arrive, more phone calls are made.  My nephew is doing an wonderful job of handling the swarm of people, and running interference on everyone who wants to go see Mark.  After awhile, I ask him if I can step back for just a minute, to let Mark and my sister know that I'm there.

Mark is lying flat on a bed, with my sister holding an ice pack on his nose.  He is alert and talking, albeit it softly and with much effort.  My sister is much calmer than she was when she was on the phone.  She wants to know what time I'm leaving for South Carolina.

Really?  I'm at the hospital right now.  For your husband.  Who was just in a motorcycle accident.  I may not even be going to South Carolina!

Back in the waiting room, friends bring us some supper.  I'm surprised by how good the grilled chicken wraps from McDonald's are!  But maybe it's simply that they were paired with McDonald's southern sweet tea, which I've not had in a month.  Or maybe it's that I'm starving!

An hour or so later, Mark is finally moved to a room.  At approximately 8:45pm, I make my way to his room.  My family proceeds to kick me out, telling me to go to South Carolina as I'd been planning for so long.  Part of me feels guilty for leaving, but part of me (the part that has already spent too much time in hospitals, the part of me that is thinking of my last emergency room visit when Daddy died, even the part of me that just simply craves a hug from a Bug) really wants to get the wheels on the road.  With promises to check in frequently, and to return immediately if needed, I get in my car and head out of town.

While all of the hospital drama has been going on, another kind of drama has been making it's way East through the US.  A massive stormfront has been moving through, leaving death and destruction in its wake.  This is not an exageration.
As I hit I-85N, I turn my XM radio to CNN and listen to the weather reports.  The system has entered GA, and Rome has reports of tornados.  One of my best friends lives, with his wife, in Rome.  I pray.
Now Dallas has reports of tornados.  My friend's parents live in the area.  I pray.
I'm approaching the South Carolina state line, and my weather radio goes off.  I have codes for GA and SC programmed into it, and live smack dab in between several NWS branches.  This is probably not a good alert.
Johns Creek and Cumming are under a tornado warning.  My nephew just moved from Johns Creek; we all still have friends and family in the area.  I pray.
At this point, I'm on SC 11, with only 10-12 miles left on my journey.  All I want to do is reach the house before the storms hit, and without hitting any deer (SC 11 is a long, dark road through the mountains).
Five miles to go.  My weather radio sounds again.  I grab my phone and call my mom.  "Are you home or still at the hospital?"  She's home.  " Did you know you're under a tornado warning?"  Yes, her weather radio went off, as well.  They're in the hallway. "I'm staying on the phone with you until I get to the house."  But, of course, what do you say to someone who may be seconds away from taking a trip to Oz?
I reached Bug's house, talk to my mom a few more minutes, tell her to keep me informed, take a few seconds to just. stop. and. breathe.  And I go inside to love on my Bug.  Who is, of course, up way past his bedtime.  But what can you do when you're under a tornado watch, and you have company coming in, and family keeps calling or stopping by (because, hey, there's a tornado watch, don't you want to come over to the house with a basement???)?  You let the kid stay up until the ruckus dies down.
At one point, I worry that I've left my sunroof open (I worry about this a lot, even though I'm a bit OCD, and close/turn off everything in my car in the exact same order every time).  Bug's dad goes out to check on it for me, in the pouring rain.  He comes back in a few minutes later.  He has closed my sunroof, and cleaned the water out of my front seats.  This has not been my night.

For the next couple of hours, I snuggle (read: wrestle and tickle) my Bug, visit with my cousins, listen to the raging storm outside, get updates on Mark, and finally, around 2am, we all drift off to our various rooms and beds, and we sleep the remainder of the night.  We have no tornados.

The rest of the trip was BUSY, but relaxing in its own weekend-in-South-Carolina way.  The one dark cloud was the true telling of Mark's injuries: broken left collarbone, broken left shoulder blade, broken right arm, all of left ribs broken, some of right ribs broken, broken nose, partially collapsed lung, fractured vertebra, compressed vertebra.  No sign of spinal or brain damage.  It's going to be a long road to recovery.

By the time I return home, my neck and shoulder have tightened up, and I've got inflammation in my arm, shooting pains down into my elbow.  I've got another week before I can get to the chiropractor.  That week of days is spent working, going to the hospital, getting food for those staying at the hospital, updating friends and families, getting updates from friends and family, preparing for an upcoming Bible assembly, classes and workouts.  Finally, Saturday arrives, and I head off to the first day of a 2-day Bible assembly.  I'm ready for two days of spiritual refreshment, spiritual refinement, and spiritual butt-kicking.

I promptly walking into the assembly hall, turn, and tear cartilage in my hip.  Again.  Second time in a month.  Third time in a year.  I spend the next two days sitting in (formerly comfortable) auditorium seats, trying not to breathe anymore than I have to.  The in my arm is now connected to the pain in my hip.

The stress of the past 10 days, the pain from my arm and my hip, and the act of being in a crowd of 1200 people (which, normally, I can handle at this facility, but with all the things talked about above....) all combine in one crashing wave, and I find myself, on several occasions, breaking down into tears.

Three days later (which adds up to: yesterday), I finally go to the chiropractor.  A 45-minute massage is followed by some rehab, and then a wonderful adjustment which puts my hip back where it is supposed to be, evens out my leg length, corrects some facet placement in my neck, and realigns my ribcage.  I bite the bullet and buy a new pillow while I'm there, something I've been thinking of doing, but really, who wants to spend $45 on a tiny pillow?

This morning, I woke up.  Relaxed, refreshed, with no low back pain, no headache, and a much less-noticable throbbing in my arm.

I think my two weeks in hell are over.
I deserve a medal.