Thanks Punks

Phantom pains. That is what I’ve been experiencing lately every Monday through Friday, leaving work, when I go through the intersection of Leeland and O’Connor Road in Irving. It is like a splitting pain through my chest that makes it hard to breathe. You see, this is where in September of last year, I was hit head on. It is strange how I went months and months with no problem going through that intersection, I’m still trying to figure out what triggered the pains. The intersection is still spotted with green paint on the curb showing the accident, where his vehicle impacted my vehicle. A constant reminder I guess of how lucky I am. But I still get mad at the PUNKS that caused it. I will refer to these people as punks to keep it clean as I have much more colorful words I prefer to use referring to them, but punk it is.

You see, I’m angry. Angry that people just don’t care. They are completely careless when it comes to others. The horrible accident last weekend where the family of five was left dead on their way home from church due to the guy running a red light at 98 mph has reminded me of this. But this happens all the time. Every day. I could have very easily died that day myself, but God spared me. I try to remember to thank Him daily for this not because I’m especially glad to be here some days, but because I get to continue to be a mommy to Melody and hopefully watch her grow to be a totally normal, typical girl. THAT is my dream.

But still, almost a year after that accident, I am reminded constantly that I will probably never be “normal” again. Along with aging, it just puts a whammy on your body, so today I want to “Thank” those PUNKS. Thanks for breaking my ankle and making my life a living and complete hell for two months. Thanks for the pain I still have to this day any time I do a lot of manual labor (house work, yard work, etc) and not just my ankle now, but my legs and back, etc. Thank you also so much for those phantom pains I now get every day at about 4:55 from my memory of the seat belt bruising I sustained and the severe pain it caused. Enough pain to make me think at that moment that perhaps I was dying. Thanks for being such selfish individuals that those few coins in the coke machine or the actual coke machine (I’m still not completely sure WHAT they were trying to steal) was more important than all those people on the road you could have very well killed that day at rush hour. All probably for a Friday/weekend drug fix I’m guessing from the looks of them. *%&($# $*!@)$& PUNKS!!!!

A true Thanks for letting me vent! I promise my next post will be more uplifting!