Speedy Recovery -- An Oxymoron?

Warning: Today's post is pretty personal.

Like jumbo shrimp and dark light, 

speedy recovery might be an oxymoron.

It'll be nine months this Thursday since this happened.

And I'm still not recovered.

I'm still not medication free.

I'm still not pain free.

Don't get me wrong.

I'm still grateful. 

Just look at that van; I could have been killed.

Yesterday, however, it hit me head-on that my car is a relapse trigger. 

Wonder what took me so long . . .

So here's the story. John noticed that the tires on our new used van (hey, another oxymoron) were bald in the front. Worn almost all the way down. So Monday morning at 7 am, I went in to the dealer that sold it to us, hoping that an alignment would be covered under the bumper-to-bumper warranty we bought. I figured while I was there, I'd have that fan directional fixed and get my "free" oil change that they added on to the price of the car. But no, turns out they don't take walk-up customers. I pleaded for them to let the van stay there because I didn't feel safe driving it, but I was turned away and told to call the sales department at 9. Ouch. 

So between peace-class lessons, I called and talked to Cody, who told me to call his manager, Ruben. I called Ruben, who promised to call back and didn't. I called him back and got Robert, who promised to call back in ten minutes and didn't. He did leave a message telling me to bring the car in, and evidently he told Tony to call me, and at 5 pm that's what Tony did. He told me that the warranty we bought wouldn't be covering the alignment or tires (big surprise) but that he could get that part ordered and schedule me for that oil change. Later this week, I got an email confirming my appointment on Saturday at 10 am. And a phone message telling me to call and make an appointment. With Johnny. Confused yet? When I got there, I was told to wait in a line and stayed there for 15 minutes and that wasn't the right line ... from what I could understand, I didn't even have an oil-change appointment ... and that's when 
I lost it. 

Don't cry. 

Do. not. cry. 

Don't let this car guy see you cry!

It felt like I was colliding with people who didn't care about me, about my recovery, about my safety ... and I found myself lying unconscious on Sunset and waiting for the ambulance all over again. 
I got so panicked, 
I couldn't breathe, 
and I felt so unsafe, 
even though it's been nine months. 
Almost a year.

It might sound weird. Okay, yeah, it sounds a little crazy.

I'm pretty sure that the guy who finally helped me thinks I'm nuts.

Not nuts, Mr. Service Guy, just in recovery.

And there's nothing speedy about it.

I'm overly tired a lot because my neck is still kinked 
and I can't remember the last time I slept through the night.

Joy has found its way back into my heart,

{and for that I am oh, so grateful}

but some days I still struggle. To smile, for real.

To understand and navigate my new normal. 

To forgive and move on.

Saturday was one of those days.

In the end, it took about ten minutes to replace the part.

I still didn't get that free oil change,

but I did get two business cards from the service guy who thinks I'm a loon. 

Probably one for each of my personalities.
I did call to apologize for my impatience, but I got stuck in a computer-generated vortex (If you know your party's extension, dial 4) and couldn't get through. 
Yep, it was one of those days.

On a happy note, Joshua's band took first place in their first marching contest of the 2013 season, so now I have a new entry for my gratitude journal. 
Think there's even such a thing as a speedy recovery?