A Pin Prick
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
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.
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.
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
wandered into Tuesday night May 18th, 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