Alive or Living

One day, I was very independent. The next, I was totally dependent for everything. Helpless. I could not do anything for myself. With both arms and legs broken, I was confined to a bed and wheelchair. I could not dress myself, brush my hair, bathe, prepare my meals, or even go to the bathroom without help. The pain medication I was taking left me kind of spacey, so I could not read or watch television.

I was dealing with a lot of anger and depression. I was grieving - grieving the loss of a part of me.

Sometimes I thought, if I had died, I would not have to deal with any of this, nor would my family and friends have to do everything they had to do to meet my needs. I would not have to come to terms and accept the limitations. I hated asking for help.

I needed to be more than just alive - I needed to live. I knew I had the strength in me somewhere to overcome this, but at the time, I did not know where that strength was.

Thank goodness for all my family and friends who visited and called, and those who lived with me to help. I realized they would much rather fix my meals, help me dress, take me to doctors appointments, or just sit and talk with me, than put flowers on my grave. Thinking it would be better to have died was a selfish thought.

When I started thinking "if I were them", and how good it would make me feel to be able to help, I realized maybe, even though I can not do much, I am still capable of doing something maybe, by letting my loved ones help me (not fighting it so much), I am helping them to feel good.

This thought was the first bit of strength I found within myself. Thinking just my being there, was helping others, helped me make it through the days to follow.

This site created and maintained by Lucinda Wales *