B51) The Unintended Consequences of change

It had been seven weeks. Maybe eight. Maybe nine.

The I was able to start backing off the pain meds. Thank you. I felt thanks. Genuine thanks for everything. The accident happened. It was an accident. As horrible as it was I was left feeling mountains of gratitude for all that went well. I had many people to thank and be thankful for. I sat in bed wondering how someone could get through this without help? I had people at my side twenty four seven for the first two weeks after I came home from the hospital. After that I had support on and off throughout the day and into the night for another month

Thank you, to everyone that helped!

The constant agony was gone. It morphed into a situational agony. Every time I stood the agony was there to greet me. If I moved the wrong way in the bed, the agony would slap me senseless while driving another nail into my leg. Movement is still a fragile thing. Movement is all about getting from one place to the next. From the bed to the couch. From the couch to the bed. I entertained no other options unless they were trips to the doctors office.

When the agony began to subside and my head not fogged over with pain meds I began to feel "normal" again ----------------- but not really. With a well defined feeling as to what normal was, I realized a change. I was being visited by a new normal.

I stopped feeling like Chip Knight. I would look at his reflection in the mirror and remember him. I could remember everything about him. All his experiences. His hopes, his dreams, his fears and his pain. There was no detail too small. I knew about his loves. His wants. His needs. I remember it all. His life so clearly etched in my mind. Be that as it may, the old Chip Knight was gone. He was now a memory. Chip Knight has left the building. No one knows if and when he will return --------------------- if ever

Again with the question

Who am I now?