The Void

I promised myself that I would start writing soon.

It is practically the one-month anniversary of my accident. I cannot believe that I've been away that long. Anyway, I'm sitting here, trying to think of something to say. And I find myself empty.

My life as of late is comprised of healing, sleeping, eating, and going to physiotherapy. There's nothing to write about. Nothing, at least, that anyone would want to read about, unless you are a glutton for banality.

Aside from dealing with lawyers, and evil insurance adjusters, I spend my time chatting online with friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers. It's a way to connect for this housebound-hermit, and it keeps me from drifting into depression. I try and laugh as often as I can, but usually it's at the expense of some inanimate object's feelings. The stress is almost as immobilizing as my gimpy leg.

So I'm writing about the void. The nothingness of a day filled with dead air.

I often lie down and think. And then I try to move my knee. I spend a great deal of time attempting this. It's exhausting. I then eat a meal. I usually have to go to physio. I come back home and check email. Have a nap. Eat. I watch a little TV. Eat some more. Time for bed.

That's my life. Until I'm able to go back to work. In the meantime, I spend way too much time inside my own head. Patience Reese, patience. Life will begin again soon.

The Sound of Crickets

Is it just me?

In my little hiatus, I've discovered that all (or most of) my blog buddies have stopped blogging. Did I start a very uncool trend or has life seized everyone from their computers?

Come back everyone, come back!

The Absence

Hi Folks,

Just a quick message from the "Management" here.

Please don't give up on the hope of new posts from me. I have been happily writing for my blog, albeit in paper-form, and due to current circumstances, have been unable to transpose them here. I will be posting soon, I promise. You will probably be complaining to me that I've written too much by the time you see the posts!

Just to bring everyone up to speed: I had a car accident about a week ago, and cannot sit at my computer for very long. No worries. I am doing fine considering. My car on the other hand, isn't doing so well. I am in good spirits, and hoping to return to my regular routine soon. The good news is that I have knee surgery scheduled for this Thursday, so hopefully my old knee problem is going to be fixed!

So stay tuned. Chaos will ensue once more. And Revisionist Reese will return.

Oh, and thanks for dropping by!

The Pain Hits Later

So now, it's been over 24 hours since the Accident (aka Reese meets Guard Rail).

I am in extreme pain! I cannot tell you just how much. My mom decided to run me a bath to see if it would help, and obviously, it didn't. I hurt everywhere, literally. I didn't think I would, but I guess those paramedics were right. Hot, and right.

I managed to talk to a bunch of friends and family in the last day and bring them up to speed on the situation. So I was surprised when people wanted to come over right away and visit. The looks on everyone's faces was so sad. I wasn't prepared for that. It felt a little like a reprimand, like I disappointed everyone somehow. I know that's not the case, but mind you, I'm not myself lately. Thinking about what happened didn't make me want to cry, but seeing my family's faces did.

I spoke to my little brother, Princess, long-distance in the Philippines. He, of course, was very concerned and serious sounding. He said: "I'm so glad that you're okay, because I love you." I responded: "Ya, because it would totally suck if I didn't make it to your wedding and finding a last-minute bridesmaid can be a bitch." That response was meant to be funny and truthful, but instead it made my usually non-emotive brother sob on the phone. I was taken aback. I didn't mean for him to cry. I'm still here, aren't I?

I just didn't realize how much my life meant to people. Am I just crazy in shock? Or am I just detached? All my life I wished I knew that people cared, but now I kind of wish that they didn't so much. It hurts to see them hurting over me.

I finally relented to my family's concerns and went to the emergency room at Scarborough Grace Hospital. Amazingly enough, I was seen by a doctor within 45 minutes! Wow! That's unheard of in modern day Ontario medicine.

Anyway, I must be in a strange state, because I found the young doctor on staff really attractive. He was so kind, gentle, and attentive. Also, he had amazingly light eyes. I must have hit my head very hard!

The good doctor prescribed some good ole Tylenol 3s and told me that I suffered some soft tissue damage in all the areas I experience pain. As for head trauma, only time would tell. He then noticed my cane. I mentioned to him that I had a pre-existing knee injury, but that it got banged around in the accident. I asked if he could refer me to a knee specialist. He agreed, and presto-chango, I had my orthopedic surgeon referral! So I guess my car accident, in a roundabout way, helped me get an expert's opinion on my knee condition. There is always a bright side.

Now I go to sleep, and dream of little Tylenol 3s dancing in my head.

The Wreckage

I'm very drained. My folks and I just got back from the tow yard where my car is being stored. I went to go get all my personal belongings that I had neglected to bring with me post-accident, most important of all, my glasses and my house keys.

TIP: Take your keys after an accident. At the very least take all your non-car keys.

I really wish I didn't let that tow truck driver take my car because not only is it an additional cost, but it also is a company that is located in the opposite direction of my home. We had to drive to Etobicoke!

I sat in the back seat of my parents Corolla the whole trip, fussing over my pains, and trying to ignore my perma-headache. I will admit to feeling kind of nauseous as we drove along the same highway that I had my accident on just barely 14 hours prior. I forced myself to think calm, positive thoughts. That didn't work. I instead focused on my throbbing headache.... and that did the trick. It's true what they say about pain. If you want to ignore it, focus on something more immediately painful.

Anyhow, my folks at this point only could imagine what the car looked like based on my description. To be honest, I barely remembered what the damage was, or at least didn't want to. As soon as my parents saw the wreck, they both broke down in their own unique way. My mom sobbed uncontrollably, and my dad wanted to touch every mangled part of my car. As for me, I just hurt inside seeing my car, my baby, my only true asset, smashed up like that. It was true. She's gone.

For the morbidly interested, here are the photos I took for documentation purposes.

My crazy Dad wanted to pose for a photo with my car as a "souvenir". How insane is that? And I'm the one supposedly with head injuries? I took the photo anyway just to humour him. Then I spent some time alone in the driver's seat saying goodbye to my baby. I literally hugged the steering wheel farewell.

Driving home, we passed by the exact location of my accident. By that time, I was strangely detached.

"It's just a dented guard rail. It's just a piece of highway. Nothing special about it. It looks like every other part of the road. I almost died there. I didn't. I was lucky."

I guess now this whole thing is real for me.

The Fear of Sleeping

It's hard to imagine. What has just happened. After telling my folks earlier this morning briefly what happened, my body just shut down. I didn't want to talk anymore and I just collapsed on my bed. I felt kind of bad that I couldn't console them. I felt bad that I couldn't reassure them that I was okay. I just had nothing left. I just thanked Macker, gently hugged my folks, gingerly peeled off my clothes and went to bed.

I slept, but it was fitful sleep. I awoke with a jolt, remembering vividly the crash. It's hard to shake that image, that feeling, that loss of control. I tried to push it out of my dreams, my thoughts, but it was futile. My brain was trying to put together the puzzle, even though the rest of me didn't want to play anymore.

I will admit to not having a disciplined mind. I cannot focus. But the inability to shake these frightening thoughts out of my head was sheer torture. It's kind of like that mental game you play where you dare someone not to think of pink elephants. And of course, all you can do is think of pink elephants. Stupid Dumbo.

The scariest feeling for me is those few seconds before I drift off to sleep when my consciousness can no longer maintain itself. Just as I feel myself wander into dreamland, an extreme sense of panic overtakes me and I find myself waking up again.

I am afraid to fall asleep. I fear crashing again. Somehow my head equates sleeping with crashing. I guess Pavlov got it right.

I hope this doesn't last. I don't want to be scarred. Especially just as my old ones are healing.

My body hurts all over, and I have a perma-headache. I don't want to be here right now. I guess it's better than not being here.

The Car Accident

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't be writing this.

I shouldn't be...

But I am.

After driving my pal ErgoGirl to Toronto's west side where she was staying with a friend, I found myself extremely tired. I had the foresight to pack an overnight bag with me and was fully prepared to stay over, but upon entering the apartment I went into a convulsion of sneezes. The apartment owner had two cats, one of which is appropriately nicknamed Satan. I was more allergic to her cats more than any other cats I have known! Without drugs, I felt that it was probably "safer for my health" if I just went home.

I climbed into my 2001 silver Nissan Sentra SE (aka My Baby) and started the 25 minute drive home. It was about 3:30am. I was on highway 401 going eastbound in the express lanes doing the speed limit of 100 km/h when I found myself getting drowsy. I rolled down my driver's side window and blasted my radio. I then closed my eyes for what I thought was a second.

The next thing I remember was my car careening at high-speed towards the metal guard rail. My thoughts at this time? Simply: "Oh, oh!"

Here's what I think happened:

I smashed into the right guard rail with the front-right side of my car. I spun out and I felt my entire body hit the left door. I struck my head violently against the window. I remember thinking "Ow!". The rear of my car then hit the guard rail again and then I believe I skidded against the rail until the entire car came to a rest facing southeast in the right lane.

As I sat there, I remember thinking "Whoa. I don't like this dream. Am I really here?" Another driver pulled over and called out to me. He asked if I was okay, and then proceeded to call 911 for me. I can't remember what I said, nor what he said to me after that. I managed to still retain presence of mind to move my car to the right curb lane. My car still started. "Wow." I drove it to the curb, all the while hearing crunching glass and metal groaning. It's amazing it still moved.

One of the vultures of the road (a tow truck driver) showed up and immediately hooked up my car. He muttered something to me about things that I just cannot recall. He gave me his coat. I remember shivering quite a bit. I should have not let him take it. I had a CAA membership. Oh well, I wasn't thinking straight. (Then again, I never think "straight".) The other driver, the one who called 911, was nowhere to be found. I have no clue why he left or who he was. Maybe he didn't witness anything. I wish I knew.

The cops came within minutes. I gave them my statement. I was strangely calm and robotic when they talked to me. I didn't realize I was in shock. I just found it weird that I was actually standing there, in one piece. I just kept staring at my car, the guard rail and looking down at myself, trying to make sense of the whole thing. I then realized that I couldn't see properly out of my left eye. In the impact, I had lost one of my contact lenses. Needless to say, it added to the disorientation and amusement factor of the night. "Great. Now I'm blind too!" I think the cops were starting to worry that I was standing too close to the highway because I remember someone yelling: "Miss, could you please stand back?"

I think the cops felt that the current location was not safe enough to conduct an interview so they deemed it necessary to take me to another location where the ambulance would meet us. I remember hobbling with my cane past a large piece of debris. It was my front bumper, with my license plate on it. I recall poking it with the tip of my cane and looking over at where it was supposed to be connected to my car. I remember laughing a little, pained laugh. I think it was then I realized that "my baby" was gone. I sadly let Officer Brown take me to the cop car and he drove to the Leslie GO station parking lot for questioning.

Side note: Cop cars have ZERO room in the back seat. If it's hard for a 5 foot 3 inch girl with a knee injury to get in, I can't imagine how big, burly, biker mobsters fit?

As I was giving my statement, I was extremely honest. I shouldn't have been. Since I've never been in "police situation" before, I was very nervous and asked the police constable lots of questions. I would hate to see the video copy of my time in the back of that cop car. I probably looked like a freaked out nerd. He conducted the standard breathalyzer test. I passed (of course) since I only had a few drinks early on in the evening. I'm not irresponsible that way. Just in other ways. I wouldn't have driven, and my friend wouldn't have let me if we were worried. Okay, enough justification. After the breathalyzer was done, I felt a little relieved. He then asked me to write out my description of the collision, as best I could. I covered my left eye with my hand and I think I wrote: "I hit the guard rail with my car." I probably wrote something more detailed than that.

The paramedics arrived at the parking lot shortly thereafter. They ran tests on me in the back of the ambulance. They told me I looked okay for now, but that I should go to my doctor in a few days since these things only show up later. I could tell that I was starting to relax a little, and be more myself, when I found that I was kidding around and making the paramedics laugh. The absolute best way I knew I was okay? I noticed how hot the two female paramedics were as they were placing heart rate sensors on my body. Even in moments of sheer terror, I'm still scoping booty. Typical Reese.

So it's almost 4 in the morning. I have no car. And I have no way of getting home. Thankfully, when I had told ErgoGirl of my predicament, she called one of my good friends, Macker, to provide emotional and transportational support. As soon as I saw him, I gave him such a big bear hug. He said, "I'm happy that you're okay." I then burst into tears for a long while. My mortality hit me. He was probably THE best person to be there for me at that moment. He just hugged me, and downplayed it with humour. No reprimands. No over-emoting. Just strong, and supportive with some jokes in between. I am lucky to have him in my life. I'm lucky to have my life in general.

Driving home, I realized just how overwhelmed I was. I started to feel a great deal of pain. Emotional, and physical. My head hurt like a bitch. I had forgotten my house keys, and my glasses in my car, so I HAD to ring the doorbell of my house to get in. I was dreading having to explain everything to my folks. I remember telling Macker, "This is a parent's worst nightmare. Having your daughter show up with this kind of news." He replied: "No, it isn't. Having a cop show up at their door, without you, would be."

He's right. (But, don't tell him I said that. *wink*)

The Night "Out"

After visiting the hospital last night to see Slugger's baby, I hurriedly went home to get ready for a night out with ErgoGirl who was in town visiting from London, Ontario.

This generous straight woman volunteered to be my "wing-woman" for an evening at Toronto's infamous lesbian bar/club "Foxy's and Coyote's". The club used to be known as "Pope Joan and The Rose" but back then it was more of a watering hole for the older, butchier, lesbian set. Now under new management, the newly-renovated and rebranded "Foxy's" is home to the hot femmes, and soft butches of the younger set. I was going for the first time since the renovations. So needless to say that I was eagerly anticipating the night. When I got there I was ecstatic. I was among "my people"!

My jaw was to the floor for most of the night just relishing in the knowledge that hot, young, lesbians did truly exist. Some of my friends have likened my newfound zeal and openness towards my orientation to that of a young 16-year-old straight boy discovering girls. I don't deny this at all! It's all so exciting to finally be comfortable with myself and to be able to express it freely. I'm also unsure about what the "rules" are in the gay community, because no matter what people think, it is NOT like dating men. Yes, it was definitely a night of the kid-in-candy-store variety.

ErgoGirl and I had an absolute blast. Just watching the scene was intriguing and so different from straight clubs. We saw transvestites, cute boyish dykes, big burly dykes, hot amazonian lipstick lesbians, and bi-curious girls with their boyfriends scoping the crowd. The couples were as equally diverse. It was cool to see such a cross-section of society all in one room, all sharing one thing: a love of good music, good times, and women... let's not forget the women.

I met some interesting people that night, flirted with a couple of different girls, and felt overall, extremely comfortable. It's odd. I didn't think I'd fit in, that I'd feel awkward, but I don't think I've ever felt more at home than I did that night. I've also discovered that a room full of lesbians is uber-cliquey. It was like chaperoning an elementary school dance where everyone is hanging out in small groups which line the walls. Only a couple of couples were on the dance floor having a good time. It was pretty sad.

Fortunately for me, I'm pretty brazen when it comes to talking to strangers. So I would just walk hobble on over to people and chat them up. The fact that I'm using a cane was a great conversation piece! Hey, it was embarrassing at first, but it helped others to break the ice. The two transvestites I met thought it was a cool fashion accessory! Anyway, it was a great night and I met lots of interesting people and the music was KICK-ASS! There are also two very lovely ladies that I'll be sure to hook up with again very soon!

I think I'm going to have an interesting summer. I can tell.

By the by... does anyone know why anyone would wear a rubber thong? Just curious.

The Suk-y Baby

Today one of my high school friends gave birth to her first baby. Slugger, is now the proud mother of a bouncing baby girl!

Baby Suk (aka Suk-y Baby) was born on April 2, 2004 at 5:25am after 36 gruelling hours of labour, and weighed in at 8 pounds and 4 ounces. Congratulations to Slugger and her husband on this momentous occassion.

Sorry, but I didn't have the mindset to take photos, but I will say that Suk-y Baby has the most preciously-full eyelashes for an Asian child. She spent most of the visit asleep after such a long, and eventful first day. I know I am definitely looking forward to the day when she and my other high school friend's (YummyMummy) daughter will be old enough to play together. It's the Old Gang: The Next Generation!

Girls, can you believe that we've known each other for half our lives? Amazing, just amazing.

The Fresh Perspective

In light of everything else, this quote made me feel better today.

At bottom, every man knows perfectly well that he is a unique being, only once on this earth; and by no extraordinary chance will such a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity as he is, ever be put together a second time.

- Friedrich Nietzsche, philosopher

The Prolonged Pain

I have the results of the various tests on my knee/leg pain. I had to call my doctor's office four times over the past two days to get these results.

The survey says: my knee is swollen.

That's all I got. My knee is swollen. After seven weeks of physiotherapy and rest, and two weeks waiting on test results, I have a swollen knee? Why is it that I can't walk? Why is it that I feel tremendous pain in my hamstring and calf. Why is it that I wake up in the middle of the night in sheer agony when my leg is spasming?

I went to my doctor to get answers. I wanted to know what happened to me. I wanted to get some advice on how to get better. I am very disappointed.

All the receptionist would tell me was that I should continue with physiotherapy. If I wasn't healing, then I should see them again in two weeks.

I wish I knew what to do next. I've already spent $450 on physio, and I have nothing to show for it. I just want to be able to walk, run, and dance again. I miss my mobility. So much for getting better by my birthday next month.