Where the Crap Began #1

<p style="margin: 0px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Blog # 1</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Where the crap began.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So where does one start?   Well, I’ve decided to take a deep dive and let it all hang out.  Yup, what started my life going in a downward spiral.    Now please don’t get me wrong.  This is not a cry for sympathy.  I don’t expect nor do I want the “oh you poor thing” etc etc.  This is my catharsis.  My outpouring of the “stuff” as I like to call it.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So where do I start.    As Maria sings in The Sound of Music.... Let’s start at the very beginning.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">14th September 2006 my father in law, Brian, passes away.    Yes, lots of people lose a parent, however the relationship between hubby, Mark, and Brian was incredibly close.   To say that Mark was shattered would be an understatement.   I would say that even to this day, he hasn’t really recovered.   However, I shan’t dwell any longer on this.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">To go back a bit, in August we had farewelled our 19 year old daughter, Marissa, on her first overseas trip.  She was going to Macau on her first professional dance contract.   To say that she was excited would be understating how we felt.  Excitement, fear, trepidation.... the list goes on.   Smiles and tears as we waved her goodbye.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Let’s move forward again.   13th November we receive a phone call.  11.30pm.  I had just come home from a business meeting.    It’s a gentleman identifying himself as William.   The father of Marissa’s boyfriend.  Marissa is in hospital having suffered 2nd - 3rd degree burns to 30-50% of her body.    I get his details and thank him and will be in touch.    I turn around and husband is at bedroom door.  I tell him.    He puts his head in his hand.   </span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This is when I turn into an automaton.    First call to father.   Need cash.  No prob says father.   Email to travel insurance Company to advise of accident, and to organise insurance for me.    Call No 3.   Qantas to book noon flight to HK.   Email to close friend, who lives in Shanghai and hubby works for Qantas.  Call William in Macau to advise of arrival details.   pack.   3am to bed.  6am awake.   Dad arrives.  I cry.  He soothes.   To airport.  On flight.   I’ve been upgraded.  Alcohol is free.  I don’t overindulge.  </span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes I’m going on a bit however this is my catharsis.  </span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Arrive in Macau.  William and April are at ferry terminal and take me to hospital.   All I recall is walking into a brightly lit, overcrowded with visitors hospital room.   The hushed tones of “It’s the Mum”   I look at the body in the bed, with a male form leaning over her, the boyfriend.    He moves away, looking at me however all I can look at is her.  My baby.  My firstborn.  Laying prone in that bed, only half of her face visible.  Everything else is swathed in bandages.   I then see her.  She’s smiling at me.   A half whisper “hi mum”   </span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I think back now....... How did I not lose it.  How did I stay so calm.    </span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So much of that three weeks is a blur.    Doctors, nurses, most of which didn’t speak any english.  Not a single word.   Burns Specialist telling me, in his broken English, that she’ll be fine.  No scarring.  back on stage by end February.  I believed him.    ???   Having them tell me I can’t be there as they change the bandages, however I can hear her.  Removing those bandages that are stuck to the skin.  They soak her in the bath.  ( I find out later, at Concorde Hospital, that the water they’ve soaked her in is contaminated   !!!! )    Her cries cut through me like a knife.  A very sharp knife.  I can only wait for her to come back so that I can comfort her.   I pray.   A lot.  My bible is my friend, my companion, my soothing lotion.   There are nights when I lay on the bed next to her, I read scripture to her.  it soothes her.    Days when we walk the corridors to keep her moving.  Compared to most there, she is like an Amazon   5’11, slim and blonde.  The nurses gaze in awe as she walks past.  She smiles at them.   She has the most beautiful smile and through all her pain, she always has a smile for others.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">After much toing and froing with the insurance company they finally agree to send a nurse to escort her back to Sydney.   What a shit fight that was.   I found a strength i had no idea i had.   God kept me strong in a way i never thought was possible.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The flight back was a horror.  She was in so much pain.   Finally, I convinced the nurse to give her something.  She finally falls asleep, half an hour before they had to wake her for landing.   </span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So we arrive in Sydney and we get whipped through customs etc so fast my head was in a whirl.   Through doors where no one can go unless you are Level 1 security (or whatever it’s called)   then we’re out, there’s her father.   Speechless.  And there’s that smile of hers  “Hi Dad”    </span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We go outside.    Yup, car is not there to meet us.   (Bloody insurance company)   I’m normally a more than patient person.  car not there, no prob.  But not today.  My daughter needs to be attended to NOW!!!!!!!!</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Have you ever noticed how the most placid...... patient... sweet person can turn into a banshee when she needs to be.  Yup, that was me.   DON’T MESS WITH ME WHEN IT COMES TO THE WELFARE OF MY CHILDREN!!!!!</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">One hour later, car arrives.   One hour later we are at Concorde Hospital.  One of the top Burns Units in the country.    Now you would think by now we’ve passed the worst and have only positive ahead of us.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">NOPE!</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Dr Kleiner is the Director of the Burns Unit.    How did we have him waiting for us.  He’s the husband of a woman who my brothers in laws niece works with   🙂   6 degrees!</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He examines her.   His face doesn’t look positive.  How do I know.   I’m focused on his reaction.    It was not good.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">She would probably be scarred.  For life.   She should have come back to Australia immediately.   Why didn’t she you ask?   Ask the insurance company.  they wanted a doctors report, which would take 45 days, before they would make any decisions!!!!   They never sent a doctor to examine her.   I could go on about all the issues I faced with them but I shant.   Remember, no sympathy wanted.  No recriminations to be made.  It’s in the past.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Then started a course of 3 times per week to the hospital for bandage changes, check ups etc.    We live 1 hour 15 mins from that hospital.   How did we handle it,  music, talking and laughter.   Yup.  We laughed...... We sang......We cried.   </span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You may be asking...how on earth could you laugh, sing when you’re going through this.   Well, we’re a tough breed in my family.   I have a strength that, when you get to know me, you will see.   My daughters have that strength, loads of it.   Where does it come from????</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">One simple word   GOD!    I can do all things through Christ who lives in me.   That was my “mantra” through all this.   In addition Jeremiah 29:11.    Google it!  :)</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And therein ends Susan’s Blog # 1 “Where the Crap Began”  </span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Thanks for your patience.  I shall return with #2   No idea when  :)</span></p>
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22 thoughts on “Where the Crap Began #1”

  1. I've always related well to the story of Job because it speaks of the strength of the human spirit.
    God may be almighty, but it's difficult to conceive of a force comparable to faith. The faith to go on. Faith to trust in a higher purpose. We simply trust that things will get better, and lo and behold they do. All it takes is a mustard seed of faith and this story definitely reflects that!

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  2. <p>Thank you Nik.  That's how I feel.  I could never share this on any of the groups I'm a part of in FB.  Here I feel safe and secure.  There's something about this group that tells me whatever I say will be kept here  :)</p>

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  3. <p>I'm like others here Susan, I liked your blog because thats my reaction after reading  about the crap,  together with sympathy and recognition of how you feel this is a safe place to open up like this.</p>
    <p>I have similar feelings about this site. Much of the internet can be anonymous, many of us here are far from that. We might not know each other in the real world, but  people here are far from anonymous due to their sharing of stories like this and obviously the photos which hide nothing of our naked selves.</p>
    <p>This mirrors how I find my real life interaction with other nudists and naturists. Most are far more open about aspects of their lives that many others would never talk about to people you maybe only see a few times a year. the Naktiv site feels like somewhere people can be themselves and share aspects of their lives openly. Its good to read your blog, and that we have somewhere we can do this.</p>

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  4. <p>Thank you all, for your kind words.  As I read them I am crying.   Something I haven't done for a while.   Yes, I feel this is a safe place, and it's the first time I've been able to truly share.   Only my very very close friends know what it was like at the time.    And I will continue to share, as the mood comes upon me.   </p>

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  5. <p>You might not want our sympathy, Susan, but I have no idea how I can read something like that and not offer it. One thing is certain, I'm sure your daughter was so happy to see you.</p>
    <p>Words fail me, and I realise this is just the beginning…</p>

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