The aftermath

The car rolled four times. I was the driver on a gravel road. Three injured. Being short has its advantages – I walked away unscathed.  The aftermath, I’d say was even more traumatic than the accident itself for me. I still suffer from bouts of survival guilt, but I have no choice but to trudge on.

Waiting for the ambulance that didn’t come. Handing the key to the wrong tow truck. Burning cash to pay for the x-rays. CTs. Hospital admissions. Worrying about the now. Panicking about the future.

At least everyone is stable now. We’re all breathing on our own, standing on our own two feet. Little things we take for granted. I went to the gym few days ago…how lucky everyone is to have their biggest worry be to lose weight or get strong.

Dad experienced allergic reaction to heavy pain meds. Couldn’t breathe. Cold. Dizzy.

Upon researching causes for neck pain, I grow grateful once again. In South Africa, he didn’t have to wait to get an MRI. As soon as the payment guarantee letter was issued from overseas, they spent an hour doing the MRI, while the expert radiologist was looking through his laptop at home. A neurosurgeon was promptly contacted for further care. The emergency doctors are not specialists, but they had access to the network.

People often ask me why I don’t live in the USA. The same applies for the parents. I always tell them that I prefer the life in South Africa. The people here are so sweet and nice. Their attitude towards life weaves the pleasant culture that permeates in all that we do. Despite the horror of the accident, they are beginning to see why I speak so fondly of this place I call home.