Healing Past Trauma
Sometimes, the "why" doesn't matter.
When I was twenty-two, I was in a car-motorcycle accident. The facts are these: I was the passenger on the motorcycle; we were on a DC city street, traveling no more than twenty-five miles per hour (because my boyfriend was a strict adherent to all laws); I was wearing a helmet; we T-boned a car who ran a red light.
While I have no memory of the actual impact, I remember being on the ground near a corner of the intersection, surrounded by flashing lights. I was loaded into an ambulance and transported to the hospital affiliated with my alma matter: George Washington University.
My trip to the ER revealed no broken bones. Whew! That said, my left leg was quite mangled, having been crushed between the motorcycle and the car. The staff instructed me to stay off it and sent me home with my first pair of crutches. That turned out to be terrible advice, as my leg swelled up and numerous ugly bruises began to make their appearances. A follow up trip to some other doctor resulted in orders for physical therapy (PT) and I still remember submerging my battered leg in an ice-filled tub.
At the time, I worked as a paralegal/administrative assistant in a small DC law firm that specialized in international trade. The firm’s owner put me in contact with a friend of his who specialized in personal injury. I’d not yet committed to going to law school, but I considered myself a decent advocate. This seemed like an open and shut case. The other driver ran a red light. I don’t think she was ever tested for alcohol and I don’t remember the police reports well enough to know whether the responding officers even considered it to be appropriate. This was 1988.
In the end, the settlement amount was determined by the nature of my injury. I saw a different doctor who opined that I might get arthritis later in life. But the reality was, I “only” sustained soft tissue injuries and possibly a concussion. I say possibly, because there was a mark on the helmet where my head came in contact with the ground and I believe I lost consciousness. I don’t recall the word “concussion” on any police or medical report.
I learned then, that in the world of personal injury, they actually have tables with monetary values for all sorts of trauma. In the end, my trauma was valued at $7500, of which the lawyer took his third, and I spent the rest on a fantastic three-week trip to Europe.
I really wanted a trial. I would go on to spend my entire legal career itching for a trial when I felt settlements were insufficient for crime victims.
Ten years after the accident, I began to have low back problems, ultimately leading to a diagnosis of spinal stenosis and a medical discharge from the Army Reserves. I had a right hip replacement at age forty-seven, and a left knee replacement at fifty-nine. I’ve learned that spinal stenosis is degenerative and can be caused by trauma. I’ve battled chronic pain my entire life.
Most recently, I sustained another injury that has now been diagnosed as “greater trochanter pain syndrome.” It was a different kind of awful from the plethora of other injuries I’ve suffered as an adult. I put up with it for about six weeks, while simultaneously descending into a dark mental and emotional place. It’s all connected, you know.
But at some point, rest and ice wasn’t making it better. I needed professional help. Once that happened, and I started a new round of PT, the pain started to ease. Identifying the cause of the physical pain helped me immensely, but past emotional trauma is not as easy to work through. At some point however, there comes a time when lingering in the past becomes pretty unhelpful.
Releasing the past can be another key to feeling better, as is focusing on the “glimmers” in the present moment.
A couple weeks ago, I attended a friend’s choral concert and wept openly during a couple of the beautiful pieces. It was a much needed catharsis.
This is one of them, and my gift to you. May it bring you comfort and peace.