Strong Testimonies about Choices

     Each presentation that I give has a main focus and that is choices.  More specifically, that our choices can and most often do affect someone other than ourselves. 

   

 This past October, during Red Ribbon Week, I asked a friend of mine to give her personal testimony to one of our local high schools reliving the emotional details about the evening she heard siren after siren after siren speed past her house.  Then having her suspicions confirmed.  

     She had relived those moments for me once before, but sitting beside her in a gymnasium as she recalled the specifics had me swallowing sobs that desperately wanted to escape. 

      She relayed the story about two other mutual friends that she was in constant contact with during those hours of extraction and  transportation of myself and my two daughters.  Those two friends also agreed to write a few paragraphs as their personal testimony for my blog today. 

     Jen Harmon:
"The night that I learned of Carey’s car accident I was in shock. It was one of those moments that was hard to even comprehend what was happening. My mind started flipping through every memory I had of being with her and I couldn’t make myself believe that the person I had become friends with was possibly gone forever. I didn’t believe it was real, I didn’t see how it could be real, I didn’t want to accept that it could be real."

"I started making phone calls, sending text messages and searching Facebook for information but there were no clear, factual answers to be given. I heard that there was a fatality and at that time, I didn’t even know if there was another vehicle involved so I began to worry that my worst nightmare was proving to be true. I continued to make calls but was told many different stories ranging from rumors of her losing her legs to her being transported by helicopter to St. Louis but was not expected to live.  It was one of the most helpless feelings I have ever had."

"I struggled with whether I should go to the hospital or not. I knew there were going to be so many people there and felt that I would probably just be in the way. I chose to stay home and wait. I held my phone in my hand everywhere I went – not knowing if I wanted it to ring or not for fear of what I would be told if it did."

"One night I just started texting her. I assumed she had lost her phone in the accident, but I continued to send them anyway. I didn’t know if she would ever get to read them but it was the only thing I could do. I had no control over what was going to happen but I could at least tell her that I was thinking of her and praying that she would come back to us."

"Finally, one night as I held my phone in my hand while lying on my couch my phone chimed. I can’t explain the feeling I got when I looked down and saw that the text I had just received was from Carey. It honestly felt like God had just come and placed her right into my arms. She later told me that she didn’t remember sending me that text or even talking to me later that week. But I do - and it will always be one of the most amazing, miraculous days in my life. "

    








   Lisa Gansner:
 "I will never forget that wintry December night.  I had an odd feeling that night…couldn’t explain what…but things just didn’t seem right.  
It was a Wednesday night…and I didn’t go to the studio as Carey taught that ZUMBA class."

  "About 5 minutes before class started, my phone rang…that sick feeling came in my stomach and my head knew….and my heart knew..something was happening.  It was the girls at the studio., asking if class was cancelled?" 

 "Carey hadn’t arrived..and we all knew that never happened.  If she wasn’t able to show, which she NEVER cancelled..she would always say something.  I knew when I was dialing her number, a sickness continued in my heart and stomach.  I left message after message." 

 "As I was on the phone with the girls at the studio, they heard sirens…our heart sunk and tears whelped up as we knew..it wasn’t a fear…we knew it had to be her.  Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined the extent….and as I learned about the seriousness, all the emergency personnel traveling..the great amount of emergency personnel, the Face Book posts, I just prayed. And prayed.  And prayed." 

 "I will never forget that night.  Feeling helpless, prayerful, wishing I could do something, wishing I could be an angel in the sky giving her strength, so scared for my dear friend, knowing something horrible had happened and just praying with all my might that she would live…breathe…."

"As those next months continued, watching her struggle and watching her overcome so many obstacles, yet wishing I could take all the pain away.  Wishing that night had never happened.  I can’t imagine what it is like to be in Carey’s shoes.  I know God has such a great purpose for her.  She touches and inspires so many before and NOW…it is so evident his purpose for her." 
 "I feel so blessed that it was NOT his plan to have her join the angels and to let us continue to enjoy her, her spirit, her personality and all she is."  
"I love you Carey and feel so blessed to call you my dear friend and thankful God has blessed us with you for a longer time.  Thank you for who you are and what you stand for.  You are such an amazing model to others and me daily.  When I feel like complaining selfishly about things, I think of you often and say…”No way I can complain…look what SHE overcame…I can overcome anything too! “

"Our Choices Matter"

Hey............I Can See You Looking at Me

     Three months after our collision, my husband took me to the grocery store in our local community.  Only leaving my living room to attend doctors appointments, I was both anxious and excited about this awaited chance to leave the confines of my home.  It was my first taste of catching inquisitive yet sympathetic glances from onlookers.

     Most would smile, some would cry, others would look away.  My life had been spent avoiding center stage at all costs and now I felt the spot light blinding me as I rolled from aisle to aisle.  

     As summer time approached, the heat increased the edema in my legs to a new level.  Socks acted as a tourniquet and if worn invariably created a condition known as "cankles", which then increased my pain and made the overall scene look worse than it already was.

     Refusing to lay in my home and miss memories with my family, I traveled as best I could to each activity.  Elevating my legs at all times was not a choice, it was a necessity and it put my tragedy on display.

     Each surgery added more scars to the plethora I had already obtained from our collision.  Some opened four times for reconstruction.  Pieces of our car embedded themselves or scraped along my skin, starting at my waist continuing to my toes to create permanent reminders of that evening when I drove down that frozen highway.

     Every so often I study them, finding one that I hadn't noticed before or how some have begun to fade slightly.  When I am out in public, I see those of you who walk by with your heads straight forward, but your pupils stretched as far to the corner of your eye as physically possible, trying to catch a glimpse without offending me.  Trying to see if the rumors are true or exaggerated.  But, I see you.

     At first, my chest would cave in, tighten and I became insecure with my new self.  I knew not a single person meant me harm and that this was an insecurity that I needed to fix within myself.  

     Everyone is curious about them, but no one asks.  It is awkward, I understand and no one wants to cause me any more distress.  But when you peer at me from around corners and look away quickly, some of my insecurity returns and there are times that I have felt ashamed.  Of how I now look.

     Putting myself in your shoes, I hope I comprehend how most of you feel.  I want to let you know it is okay to ask questions.  I am the best one to ask.  I have lived it, recovered from it and can tell you with heart wrenching honesty what each scar represents.  

     Working on myself for nearly five years has brought to me a sense of pride about my scars. These scars are my story, a story of survival that my family and I have traveled, a road map of recovery.  

     They are my one of a kind tattoos and most importantly, each one is a valuable lesson that has encouraged me to grow into this new self.   A self that I have never been more proud or comfortable with.

     So............I see you looking at me............and it's okay.

 

It's Time to Wake Up

   My last two blogs have been some of my most emotional.  Continuing this same path for the rest of this month makes me sigh when I choose what I want to work through next.  Only due to the high emotion is causes, but each week I purge and the part of me that hurts so much from that particular remembrance ebbs. 

  It is working. 

     Natural curiosity is abundant when an event of this magnitude occurs.  Asking ,"What was like when I awoke or what do you remember as you awoke?" was and still is a dominant inquiry.  Here it is as "I" relive it. 

      Six-thirty.  There were no sirens that I could hear.  I started to wake just like the actors do in the movies.  Trying so hard to pry my eyelids open.   Feeling as if they had weights hanging from them.    They blinked dramatically slow.   Fogginess obscured my mind and focusing was minimal.  I had no idea where I was or what had transpired just moments before.  When my eyes could focus, I ascertained I was looking out my drivers side car window, but there was no glass.  I believed I was looking at a hillside of grass.  It was at the level of my window and I could only see in black and white.  When our car finally stopped spinning  after the impact, we circled to a gridlock in a ditch along side of the rail road tracks.  

 I was trying to make sense of what I was seeing when I heard what I thought were people yelling at me.  Where was that coming from?   Did I hear, Mommy?   It had to be the girls, they were both calling my name, begging me, "Please wake up, please!" "Are you okay?" they demanded .   

Words finally penetrated through my lethargic mind.  "Mommy, I think I broke my arm", the oldest said softly.  Broke her arm?  What is she speaking of?  It started coming back to me, creeping ever so slowly into my confusion.  

Dear God, we were in a crash!  I knew it had to be terrible, there's no way we couldn't be hurt after a crash like that.   Her voice was trembling as she stated again, "Mommy, I think I broke my arm."    I thought I knew how strong I was until I heard the pain in my children's voices.  

  I  turned my head towards her voice and my movement seemed unusually delayed.   There was only darkness with a white light in the upper left corner of my vision when rotating my head to the right.  Why couldn't I see them?   I knew my eyes were open, I had just been looking at grass. 

 I was desperately trying to get the words that were in my head to reach my lips.  I needed to give them reassurance.  I spoke softly to them, " Calm down, people will be here to help us soon.  Call 911."  Only partial words were coming out, but they understood enough to take action.  She grabbed her cell phone from her pocket and called for emergency help. 

 Again I tried to move, to help the girls and yet still I couldn't see them.  Something was so close to my chest, it wouldn't let me turn either direction and the lower half of my body wouldn't move.  I was trapped and couldn't understand why my body wasn't feeling any sensations.  The shadows kept trying to envelope me, they were breathing down my neck.  I fought for consciousness every moment.

  I heard the youngest say in a small voice, " Carey, I think I'm cut on my belly pretty bad."  My heart sank as I wondered what injuries they had sustained.  My little angels were suffering.  I tried to ask her if she could see the cut.  She then stated confidently, " No, no I think it's okay" then just mere moments later, the worry is back in her voice as she whimpered, "No, Carey, I think it's pretty bad."  To hear her tone and the way she is dramatic one moment, then nonchalant the next, it is just so her.  I don't know how humor could show it's face in my drowsy mind at that moment, but it did.  Even though my heart was aching for the girls, it let me know her personality was still intact.  Their speech was coherent, this let me assume they did not bear brain trauma.  I did not hold this same confidence with myself. 

    I instructed the girls to call Dad.   A woman took my daughters phone to finish the 911 call. "My  phone is in my purse" I whispered.  Again the youngest asked with all her sassiness " Where the heck is that?"  Again a small smile entered my mind at her.  I told her it was on her floorboard before the accident.  Luckily it lingered at her feet.  

 I was so proud of these two girls.  They really did stay calm in light of what they had just been through.  The oldest took charge of getting us help. She was calm with the 911 operator and in relaying details to my husband about where we were located. 

 What he must have been thinking, I can't imagine.  We had just left the house maybe eight minutes before the collision happened.   

 It's odd that I couldn't get my thoughts to form out of my mouth, but I had so many inside of my head.  I was worried about how badly the girls were injured.  I was frustrated that I couldn't help them.  I wanted to hold each of them tightly and whisper comforting words in their ears.  They were frightened.   I must have hit my head so hard because I just couldn't stay focused on what was happening.  

      As the girls ended their phone call with my husband,  I again tried to turn towards them, then the most God awful, intense pain I had ever felt, hit me in my lower legs.  Never had I felt anything so explosive in my entire life. It was completely overpowering.  Sensation had come back to my body with such severity, rating it on a pain scale was absurd. 

  I reached down and could feel my legs had been pinned by the car.  Debris surrounded them.  Sharpness from the broken car was everywhere.  If I could move them, even a little, maybe it would give me some kind of reprieve from the monstrous agony I was in.   Gently I tugged on my legs and they did move just slightly as my body spasm-ed with pain.  I rested my forehead on whatever piece of the car was against my chest and decided to try a second time.  Pulling just a little harder this time the waves of sickness were too much as the misery escalated me into unconsciousness. 

 Had I been able to think clearly, I would have understood that I should not be attempting this action.  Thank goodness they did not move because I would have caused even more damage to myself as the fractures in my right leg had perforated my skin and were now exposed. 

                         
    There is pain that makes you cry and there is pain high enough to make you vomit.  Then there is the pain that is so severe, your body's natural response is to send you into shock because it cannot tolerate the reactions it's feeling. 

 Your body is in survival mode only. 

   

    I know what drinking and driving is, my story  is how drinking and driving feels.

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