I wake up out of the drug enduced coma (they had to enduce me, because Id become conscious and scream and writhe, which doesn't do great things for injuries like mine)...so I finally come out after three days, and wonder why my family is all there. I say to my sister, "Why am I visiting you?" (thinking I'm in Seattle)
So she calmly and collectively explained what had happened to me, without much detail, and I finally understood but...apparently its reasonable to me to think I went in for plastic surgery! And was in a different city!
She points out my face in a mirror, which is broken right down the middle with two teeth protruding, and I question to her "And why did I think THAT would be a good idea?" lol Meaning...I got plastic surgery that made me look like -THAT?!
And at some point, I was cracking my brother up with jokes!? Its usually him cracking me up! He says to me afterward, "Denise you're SO ON right now!" I said "Yeah. On drugs!" Which got another laugh.
By the way, I remember NONE of this. They tell me post-hospital, and I am glad I was filled with THAT attitute and spirit, instead of another kind. It helped them get through it, and helped me process at my own pace.
Am I that positive now? I try to be.
Thanks for reading,