Too bad I don’t have some super cool artwork to go along with this post. If I did, it would probably be doodles of emotions scratched on notebook paper. Something simple and stick figure like. See exhibit A.

My stick figures would be cuter.

On May 30th, my friend fell asleep at the wheel, hit a pole which caused the car to flip multiple times. I was told that it took an hour to get me out of the wreck.

I really don’t remember the first few days because I was in lala-morphine-land and didn’t want to come back to reality. I do remember, though, the crazy amount of visitors I had when I was in the ICU. I do remember being rolled by the waiting room and having people cheer for me like I was running the last mile in a marathon. I do remember trying to make my teary-eyed friends laugh and smile with me. I do remember the moment my orthopedic surgeon walked in and told me that they expect a full recovery.

Multiple fractures, two surgeries and two weeks later, I found myself wishing I had listened to my mother and stayed home that day. Don’t you hate it when your mom is right? My legs didn’t touch the ground for four whole weeks. On the fourth week, I shed tears (of joy) when the physical therapist sat me up for the first time. Cheesy, I know. I was crying because I could finally see the houses, the neighborhoods, the cars, and the 10 freeway. It never looked so beautiful.

I entertained myself by instagramming (I’m just going to assume that you know what instagram is) pictures of my penguin, Icicles. Yes, I have a stuffed penguin and yes, he has a name. You tend to make new friends when you’re stuck in a hospital. See exhibit B & C.

After spending over a month at the LA County Hospital, I was transferred to a rehab hospital in a $900 ambulance ride, bar not included. Spent two weeks in rehab, where there were 90 year-olds in better shape than I was, and learned how to walk… kinda. It was actually more of a hop-on-one-foot-with-one-hand-in-the-air kind of walk. A hokey-pokey kind of walk. But it did get me from point A to point B, wheelchair to bed.

I’m home now. My stay at the LA County Medical Resort & Spa and Long Beach Memorial Hotel feels like it was so long ago. Too bad my vacation isn’t officially over. I can’t drive, I can’t walk, I can’t go in my kitchen and prepare myself a sandwich but I can hug my parents, I can kick ass in Cranium and I will be able to get up and walk again.

And for that I am grateful.

I appreciate and thank you if you ever sent me a get well tweet/FB post/email. Just wanted to let you know where I’ve been these past few months. The road to recovery has been a bumpy one and you can feel each bump on a two-wheeler. I’m sure I will cry again when I take my first steps. Tears of joy, of course.

Guess it’s time to roll back into the norm. We’ll see how that works out.

Xo.

#NP: Lissie – “Everywhere I Go”