A Pin Prick

 

A Pin Prick

Sometimes an experience in life is perceived as a pin prick, and sometimes a two by four. We may not always know the difference. But there is. However, I have enough experience to know the difference between the trauma of a pin prick versus the trauma of a two by four. As well, the repercussions of when someone cannot differentiate the difference. And usually, it is because of either by parental misguidance and or that own person’s ego.

 

As my newly adopted baby lay on a blanketed small, old, wooden table. Four people in white coats gathered around. I was at my baby’s feet and legs holding them down.  A female, white coated doctor took what looked to be a small, plastic and metal elementary age school chair, and pulled it up to the where my baby’s head rested on a folded receiving blanket. I made requests in Chinese to the doctor. My husband stood twenty feet away, looking on.

 

Soon the female doctor placed the needle carefully into my baby’s head. She’d found a vein, where she could administer an IV of fluid that the baby needed to survive. However, the needle popped out soon before the IV could get going.  This occurred at least three times.  By the third time, the baby’s blood-curdling screams could be heard throughout the orphanage’s eighth floor. Our baby daughter turning purple with fury, my husband gasped, teared up and needed to walk out of the room. I remained, trying to take the baby’s pain away with reassurance. However, how would one do that? I remained reassuring and of calm mind. It was all I could do. She got healthy and survived. That was a pin prick.

 

As one pulls away from trauma, sometimes there may be comparisons in their own mind. It could be to sooth or reassure that they can overcome the present trauma by readapting.  At times when a trauma hasn’t occurred recently or there had been like a pin prick; only to unfold to being a two by four trauma. There may be an increase in the heightened awareness of one’s existence. Or the existence of a loved one.

 

In my husband’s last days ten months ago, I realized how lucky we were. Yes, as my husband of thirty-six years was dying, I felt lucky. As well it seemed too, so did he.   Days later he was gone. As only someone burying a loved one would know, you usually pick out clothing for person’s body to lay above earth fully dressed one last time. I picked colors that were manly, yet cheerful. Purple, that was the shirt. It also was a shade of one of our wedding colors. And about thirty-five years ago, my father-in-law told me that purple, the color I picked meant royalty.

 

So flashforward to Wednesday afternoon this week. That was yesterday.  As my daughter was extremely busy at work. She needed me to pick up her prom dress. A beautiful blush colored gown, all ready to adorn her as she is grateful to be escorted by a kind gentleman of her class to the prom. I walked yesterday afternoon with the gown wrapped in white plastic draped over my right shoulder. Making certain none of it touched the ground. My mind began to wander as I walked the half mile back to where I’d parked.

 

My mind wandered into Tuesday night May 18^th, 2021. Yes, two days ago. I was called to the scene of an accident. My daughter’s car had been hit by another car whose driver ran through a stop sign. The hit was hard. I knew she was okay. And if she wasn’t, then I’d deal with that too. At the scene, which was amazing no one was injured. Her car was totaled. All five bags went off. The front windshield shattered and was caved in. The front end was eradicated from where it once belonged. But yet, everyone pretty much exited the vehicle on their own. No physical trauma presented itself at the time. All were checked twice over by the medical crew, that arrived quite quickly.

 

And so there the next afternoon as I carried my daughter’s prom dress. I realized that for a moment we were lucky that it would not lay on her body in a box to be buried. Again, a possible two by four trauma turned into a pin prick.---Jody-Lynn Reicher