Suddenly everything went dark and I lost consciousness.
I woke up inside the ambulance worried about my contact lenses. They asked my name and age and my mother was on my side. It was all very fast. Faster than lightning. It felt like two minutes had passed. But it was time for me to arrive at the hospital and all my family was there. Lying on the stretcher, I had no idea what had happened. I opened my eyes and saw my uncle looking relieved, I smiled at him and felt a chill to see everyone there, helping me.
My aunt, who is an ophthalmologist, helped me take out the contact lenses, I cut my forehead very close to my eyes. She was afraid of going blind. My mother went to the other side to get X-rays. I woke up with the serum in my arm and needed help to go to the bathroom to feel sick, from so much adrenaline. And then I was taking anesthesia in my forehead and mouth to get the stitches done. The doctor was funny, but he wasn't happy with the profanity I let out with each bite of the anesthesia. Pause for a little joke: when they say that for free, even injection in the forehead, lies, think about it.
Anyway, I spent two days in the hospital without being able to eat anything or get up properly. My face was swelling on the right side and then on the left side. My eyes didn't open properly and my mouth was all cut inside. I just thought about how incredibly lucky I was that, even with a tongue piercing, I didn't break any teeth. Even luckier not to have injured her neck. I had several tests and the neurologist always came to visit me, measuring my reaction and doing tests.
My aunts came to visit me with homemade soup and a straw (I cry with joy remembering this, because it's a lot of love). And my brother arrived with orchids. I received many visits. She was always accompanied and happy. I was happy. Funny to be happy in such a situation...
But I will tell you that
this blackout, this accident, the deformed face, this difficulty eating, put me in the place where I had left many years ago: that of valuing life.
For days after returning home, I couldn't sleep alone in my room for fear of dying. I still I spent weeks working through the fear of death. My mother didn't work for days and we spent the whole afternoon lying in bed solving Sudoku problems.
I got a taste for eating soup and eating slowly and slowly, anxiety that I had, which was deducted from the food, passed.
I couldn't leave the house for weeks because I couldn't sunbathe on my face. Zero sun. And because I had a bandage in the middle of my forehead and it took my eyes almost a month to deflate. I felt calm, inside my body, patient, grounded. The fear of death gave me a taste for life. The feeling of good luck that I was fine, walking, and only with a scar on my forehead was one of gratitude.
The accident was lucky. Today I remember and see it as if it were a wake of the Universe telling me to value more what I had.
I see that illnesses, accidents, all of this help us to wake up, it's a call, it means that we are leaving our purpose, mismatching our essence too much, and these things happen to wake up.
Today, you look at me and you don't even notice the scar. And if I want, I could laser it off. But I love them. I always want to remember the importance of this moment in my life, the people who helped me, the strength that came out of me, everything I learned.
From all that I've told you, let's draw another conclusion: thank you for the hardships we went through, because we learned. But also make room to learn for love, painlessly. Learning through love is possible. And that's what I'm looking for more and more.
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