I woke up. Life is good I thought. It’s my birthday. I am 40. I am happy. I am at peace. I am going to enjoy a nice big cup of coffee, today I might even add a little sugar. It’s my birthday. I AM adding sugar! I’m going to shop later, buy an outfit for my birthday dinner with my family. I’m happy. I’m grateful. My phone is beeping continuously with messages, emails, texts wishing me well. It feels nice, this love. I contemplate yoga, I decide to hoop instead. I like my new hoop. I am amazed at my progress. I can’t believe I am hooping at 40, like a kid in my living room, music going, working up a sweat. I’m proud I can do this, it feels good. I feel good. I should shower. I’m meeting my mom. We are going shopping. Guess I’ll get moving. I’m home, gonna nap before my birthday dinner with my family. Why nap? cause I can, cause it’s my birthday. I never slept, just laid around watching syfy. Syfy cracks me up. I tell my mom I need to do laundry at her house. I go do laundry. She asks how it feels to be 40. I answer “great except all these weird aches and pains for no reason”. I think I slept wrong, my left chest and shoulder are sore. Weird. I’ll take advil. I go to dinner, we have fun. My father comes down from Melbourne with his girlfriend Sue. My mother, aunt, brother, sister in law are all there. We laugh, we eat. Life is good. I am grateful. I thank everyone for being there. I love that we can eat and laugh together. Life is good. I go home to get ready for birthday party #2 Sunday night. I sleep well. I wake up and have coffee. I add sugar. I’m still celebrating. I am happy. I can not wait to dance the night away. I love my friends. I feel a twinge of sadness knowing some close friends won’t be in attendance but I push the thought from my head and focus on the ones who will. My chest and arm are still a little sore but I have no time for that. The birthday is as good as I could have hoped. Friends I haven’t seen in years are there. I am overcome with joy. I am happy. I feel whole and satisfied. We sleep, we eat breakfast, we’ve laughed and giggled and had fun. I drive home. The drive brings me awareness that my left arm and chest are really, really sore. I decide I need advil and a heating pad. I am receiving pics from friends from the night before. I am laughing the whole way home. I am laughing and remembering and feeling happy and whole. Within 2 hours I am in the emergency room. I feel like someone is stabbing me in the chest and shoulder with an ice-pick, Pain I can’t control, pain that is taking my breath, causing me to scream and clench my teeth. Pain that is causing my feet to curl up. Pain that IV Toradol, Percocet and Dilaudid is not helping. They are working me up for a heart attack or a pulmonary embolism. I am laughing through my tears thinking that this would be my luck. I will die the day after my birthday party of something so ridiculous. I think I might be dying in this ER with my mother at my side, with no rhyme or reason for this. She is worried and has contacted the rest of my family and I feel bad that they feel bad. I am laughing and the medical staff thinks I’m a little crazy for doing this, but they don’t know what all I have been through. So to me, it’s ironic and ridiculous and heartbreaking and frustrating. For them it is a medical mystery. Everything is fine, except my blood pressure and pulse which are high as a result of the pain. The pain that hasn’t let up. They think it’s my implant, that something is wrong, that it is the reason. They call my surgeon, I will see him first thing in the morning. In the meantime I will be sent home, vomiting uncontrollably from the meds and with no relief in sight. Within hours I am in surgery, my implant is coming out. It will remain out for 4-6 months. There is no explanation. I am devastated. I am being ripped apart. My soul is spilling all over the floor beneath me and I have no words. I am screaming inside. Screaming and screaming and screaming and I am filled with rage and despair. I was WHOLE. I was HAPPY. I was GRATEFUL. I was positive and moving forward, an ember waiting to set the world on fire. I am crushed. My chest feels like it is imploding. My heart has stopped beating. The noise around me is deafening but I am silent. Only tears escape my eyes. I nod in understanding. I nod because I don’t know what else to do. I am cursing Eric. I am hating myself again. I hate who I am, who I was. I am hating everyone who has known him and who has chosen to still be nice and cordial to him, because if he hadn’t hit me with his truck then NONE of this would be necessary. If I hadn’t protected him at the time then I would have had at least some measure of justice and he would be in jail where he deserves to be, instead of gallivanting all over the place acting like I was some thing he could hit and leave, like an animal in the road. I am consumed with anger and I have no voice. I am bound. Caged. I get to spend my hard earned money to pay these medical bills, these MRI’s & Xrays, these surgeries. I am financially losing. I am emotionally drained. I am physically scarred and disfigured and it seems to never end. It is never ending. There is NO justice. NO compensation. NOTHING to even remotely take this sting away. My body bears both the emotional and physical scars that this person has left behind everyday. My body is a road map of the damage that he has caused. I can’t look down or I cry. I cant look up or I cry. I can’t make eye contact too long now or I cry. I can’t touch my own body without feeling this empty hollow shell and I cry. 24 hours before I was whole and grateful and happy, I had made peace with this body and moving on and Eric was the last person on my mind. I had hoped to never deal with him again except through an attorney and here I am….here I am, pulling myself together, going to work, looking on the outside like I always do and screaming and screaming and screaming on the inside. I honestly don’t know if my mind will allow for this and not just simply break. I lost more pieces. These pieces are breaking off and falling away like icebergs in an ocean. Disappearing into the abyss. These pieces…..they just disappear. I am living inside a broken mind.