I was seen by many doctors, and some of them were bringing interns, or medical students, in to see my injury.
Thankfully, it's only a blur of a memory, and doesn't include the whole 20 hours or so I waited for surgery.

I remember being wheeled down an empty hallway headed to surgery.
A nurse parked my bed ourside the OR, annouced my arrival to a lady in scrubs behind a desk, and disappeared.
Every member of the surgery team came up to me one-at-a-time and asked the same questions over and over again.
"Name? Where are you? Do you know why you are here? Allergies? How are you feeling?" and so on.
I answered them all, and when the surgeon finally came over, I was slightly surpised at how young he looked.
But I didn't doubt his abilities at all, everyone in the hospital had been telling me great he was.
I knew I was lucky to have him work on my face.

When he spoke, his soft voice was kind, and confident in his abilities.
It instantly put me more at ease.
I groggily looked at him, and asked "can you make my nose smaller?"
The image of my swollen fat nose stood out in my mind, grossly mishaped and horrifing.
Seeing how distressed I was, he gently smiled and told me that he first needed to get inside to clean and assess my injury.
Crying, I was still so very scared... he comforted me and assured me that he would make the scar on my nose as thin and small as he could.
He sparked some hope in me, during a very dark moment.
I knew I was in good hands
I am so thankful that he was my surgeon.

Hello YoungAndAngry,

I have been reading your posts. I admire your ability to put your trauma in such meaningful language. My heart and thoughts are with you! I am so glad you are alive and here. Take gentle care of yourself! I will post more here later as I have some things I think would be good to share with you.

Until Later,
Marilyn

I want to thank:

• Marilyn S.
• piglet
• batgirl
• anthony
• Farmer
• pookiespooka
• Nam
• Veiled

for the support they have shown me throughout 'my story'.
I'm wouldn't be suprised if I have left out some names, and I truely apologize if I did... but my memory is shot.
Anyways I really appreciate everyones kind words, thank you

They wheeled my bed into the Operating Room.
I've never been in this part of a hospital before!
The room was white and sterile, there was a bed in the middle of the room, huge lights above the bed and monitoring machines lined up one after another.
Everyone was in scrubs, it was eery... I've only seen this "image" on TV before (OR's and surgeons in scrubs together).
I realized it made sense why I had to change my hospital gown and put a hair net on before I left for surgery.
Don't want infections!!

Using the bedsheet, the nurses lifted me onto the surgical table.
It really feels weird... almost like I wanted to just say "let me get up myself, I can walk"
but I was still in alot of pain, so I kinda did appreciate the 'lack of effort' on my part.

The table had arms boards sticking out of it.
They asked me to put each arm on each 'arm table'
I did, and a nurse tied my arms down to each table.
Can't remember if it was velco straps or what... but it didn't hurt or anything.
They explained to me that it was so that my arms don't fall off the table while I'm out.
hmmm.... makes sense to me!
Just feels really weird, like you are really vunerable.

Members of the OR team were amazing,
nurses were pleasent and humoured me in my doped up comments and questions.
the anesthesiologist explained to me what/how I would feel when he put me to sleep,
and coached me to relax and count down from ten.

... ten.... (my mind "so the medication is going to force me to sleep, relax... I should just stop thinking")
nine... (my mind "hmmm... wonder if I can stay awake to the count of 1??")
eight... (my mind "should I be trying to stay awake? Can I die from trying?")
seven... (my mind "omg! omg! omg!")
six... (my mind "screw it... sleep!! please sleep!!!")
five... (my mind "ZzzZzzZzzZzzZzz")

Wow YA I just got the courage to look at your diary again. I needed to take a break for a little while because it reminded me of my own stuff. I'm surprised that they sent you home instead of taking you to the other hospital by ambulace; they should have at least given you better pain meds. I hope you're not in as much pain now as you were.

Hi Young&Angry,

I actually read your diary last week, but did not reply. But I kept thinking about you. Gosh... I too, was so shocked that they sent you home with such an injury without proper pain relief. It's disgusting, actually. Well done for going through this stuff as far as you have, I know it's hard...

sending you some warm vibes.

Take care

Lisa

Thank you for your support.
I'm trying to finish it, but as I keep saying.
Holy crap it's hard!!!!

I was crying… everything hurt so bad… I whimpered, confused and starting to panic.
The nurses tried to calm me,
“It hurts!!” I scream, desperate for relief.
“Breath, you’re holding your breath… we can’t give you anything until your heart rate and breathing rate start to normalize”
Until the nurse said it, I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to take another gasp of air.

After a few minutes, which felt like forever to me, the nurse injected morphine into my IV line. It was the kindest thing anyone could have done at that point.

Through the haze I saw my parents and boyfriends face as I was wheeled back to my room.
I drifted into a deep sleep.


I got hospital gifts the next day.
First I received a bouquet of flowers from the teachers at my College.
They didn’t have to do that… it really touched me deeply.

‘The driver’ came with carnations he had grabbed from the flower shop downstairs.
….considerate… too bad he and my boyfriend left rather than stay and keep me company.

My father showed up with a mug he had found in the gift shop.
A Picasso style mug, the big deformed nose was the handle.
Tears streamed down my face… there was no holding them back.

I remember being at the payphone several times, calling my boyfriend over and over.
My parents kept telling me to calm down and just rest.
Easier said than done!

...Memory blanks out...

The Surgeon is in my room, looking serious, about to tell us my face’s outlook.
“I had to remove the damaged and infected tissue…
you have a over 7 communiated fractures in your face…
which means that the shards of bones are too small for me to piece together.”
Tears started flowing… my face throbbed.

“I cleaned it up the best I could,
you will have a bump and scar across the bridge of your nose…
for the first bit the scar will be red, but over time it will fade…”
I exploded, sobbing, trying to take in this new information…
everything he said after that was droned out by the screams in my mind.

He explained my situation and outlook to my family.
Apparently I was lucky to be alive…
because of the way I hit the roof…
I managed to avoid becoming blind, toothless and dead.