Broken

 Chapter 4 

I have to break this story up. I cannot tell it all at once because it's too painful. There are so many details that I'd be writing forever. 

Actually, I wanna share the details. Really hone in on exactly what happened, because one day time will make me forget. I need to know. I need you to know what it's like being me. So when this story is over you can understand WHY I AM THE WAY I AM. 

It is not by choice. 

I need to tell my story. 

How life broke me as an individual. 

Instead of judging me ask yourself....

Could you have handled all that? 

Would living that break you? 

Could you be me? 

Seriously would like to know. 

It always makes me uncomfortable hearing someone tell me how strong I am. 

Because I'm definitely not! 

I have no idea what I'm doing EVERYDAY. ALL DAY. 

That ambulance ride was no different. 

The paramedic told me before I entered the vehicle that I have to be calm. If you're going to freak out and wind your daughter up you cannot ride with us. 

I remember thinking how rude he was to even say that to me. Don't you see all the blood? Can you not see how little she is? 

See the thing about my daughter is she was born with disabilities. For those who do not know she was diagnosed with Pierre Robin Syndrome.

Born without a jaw, a narrow airway, cleft palate, and growth issues. Breathing has always been a complicated thing for her, as well as talking and eating. She's small for her age. Always has been. Still is. She is nine now but her size is still a six. 

So imagine someone that little. That medically complicated. Getting HIT by a speeding car. 

And I have to calm down or I cannot be by her side. The Scorpio in me wanted to tell him to GET THE FUCK OUT MY FACE AND MOVE ASIDE BEFORE I CUT YOU IN PLACES THAT WOULD REQUIRE YOU TO NEED AN AMBULANCE OF YOUR OWN. 

Instead I settled for "I'm good! Let's just go!"

We wasted enough time and her life is all that matters.

She looked so scared. Still. Silent.  Her piercing big eyes watered as she stared at me the entire time. She didn't need to talk. I could read her thoughts through the expression of her eyes. Her fear turned tired as her eyes grew heavy wanting to close. The medic was very clear about keeping her awake so everytime her eyelids met I would talk to her. Tap her. The medic would shout to startle her. 

It was a very long ride. I remember feeling tired myself. Energy drained from trying to keep her awake. A faint part of me was grateful I opted out of driving ourselves. It was a long ride in that ambulance without any red lights to obey. It would've taken twice the time if we had driven ourselves. I was talking to my daughter verbally but mentally I was praying to GOD. 

I never prayed that hard in my life. Every passion I ever possessed went into that prayer. Begging was an understatement. I demanded as if it was not an option for GOD to save my daughter before we even step foot in the hospital and her fate went into the hands of doctors. 

Still, the fear gripped me like an anaconda as we made our way to the emergency room. 

The room immediately filled with so many doctors and nurses as I was excorted to stand by the wall giving space for the professionals to work. Medical dialogue feeling like a foreign language as I tried using all my brain power to decode their conversation listening for clues to tell me if she was going to be okay or not.

My main concern was her head. Her skull. Her brain. My main fear was brain bleed. 

I let the doctors work clearing her one by one diagnosing her with only a broken right leg. 

By this point my husband and son are with us. Grateful to have them by our side when the doctor explains to us how they have to snap her bones back in place and put her in a cast.

Scared for the additional pain she's about to endure but also grateful it's nothing more sinister. Though I am still unsure about her brain. Even with her scans coming back okay. I know only time at least overnight will reduce the anxiety. 

Now I can focus on the details. So I ask my husband again what happened?

His answer is the same but now my questions are more detailed.  Such as "How did she get hit and nobody else did?" "Where you not holding her hand when you crossed the street?" "Where was our son?" "Did you check the street properly before you crossed?"

I got my answers but you could tell her started getting defensive. Assuming that I was blaming him for the accident. Anger consumed him as he screamed at me "I DIDN'T EVEN WANT HER TO GO! I SWEAR TO YOU THE ROAD WAS CLEAR WHEN WE STARTED CROSSING. SHE WANTED TO HOLD THE LEASH SO I GAVE HER THE BEAGLE. OUR SON WAS IN THE FRONT HE RAN ACROSS. SHE WAS RIGHT BEHIND HIM WHEN THE CAR HIT HER AND I WAS BEHIND HER. I SAW THE CAR GETTING CLOSE BUT WE WERE ALREADY IN THE ROAD. I YELLED AT THE CAR TO STOP WHEN I SAW IT COMING FULL SPEED BUT IT KEPT GOING. IT DIDN'T EVEN STOP. THIS IS NOT MY FAULT IT'S THAT'S FUCKING CAR NOT PAYING ATTENTION!" 

On that note he threw something across room bringing attention to the officer who was standing by the door the whole time though neither of us noticed. 

This is where I get really confused.

Chapter 5