The original picture is really great…gotta love a pic that sends the imagination into overdrive. I can’t imagine what kind of genetic engineering such an animal would take, though…
Copyright – EL Appleby
Thank you for the picture!
Ach, but as much as the picture given for the prompt is really great…it has led me down another path and begs me to use a pic out of my own files. I beg all your forgiveness this once as I bend the rules….Also, this is non-fiction.
(Picture: This is me, right after the surgery to restore some semblance of a face after the accident that changed everything.)
Mom tucked the stuffy under my arm. It wasn’t fancy, Mom never wasted money on gifts. Knowing that, I squeezed it with half a grin. There was only one reason she’d give me something, now. I blinked up at her, and mumbled through broken jaws.
‘Am I dying?’
Mom looked me square in the eye. ‘You just might, Sweetie.’
‘It’s okay, Mom. I’m ready to go back Home.’
With that, the nurses came and wheeled me out for an eight hour surgery wherein I fully coded on the table four times. The stuffy is now tucked in my cedar box.
Braided Stars 
That sounds like a terrible ordeal. The stuffy must still be quite a reminder of it.
Indeed it is, and the flashbacks are pure hell!
Did I read that right? Or, did i miss something? Did the mother really say to the child who asked if she was dying, ‘You just might, Sweetie.’?
yes, my mom did. For all the drugs and alcohol, we had one thing between us…honesty. We didn’t sugar-coat things. I grew up unafraid of death, or dying. It was just part of life, and I was used to it.
Dear Buffy,
A very powerful story here. The true ones usually are.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks. 🙂
As for bending the “rules”…so did I. 😉 A little truth and non-fiction are allowed.
As Rochelle says, extremely powerful. It’s stunning how resilient we can be.
I love the honesty in this piece. Well done.
Glad you’re still with us!
janet
hmm, not sure I want to answer that one, if I answered honestly some people would take it wrong, so I’ll just say…heaven was an awfully pleasant place to be…
I too wondered if I had read the/your mother’s answer correctly. Powerful indeed!
yes, at that point they’d only given me less than a 2% survival rating.
I can definitely see how the first picture reminded you of the second one. It must have been a life altering experience. There are a million ways you could have written it — but I think this way says it all.
Thank you.
That was quite uncomfortable to read. I feel as though I have witnessed a personal and horrifying event. On the other hand I am grateful I did not have to live it. I hope writing about it helps you to heal.
I’m glad you are still here to tell us your story, if perhaps you may have a different view.
A powerful piece, thank you for sharing it with us
Dee
Glad you could share the story and know there are others who have been there too – there is a reason we are still here
~hugs
Hugs!
Really intense.. But I am glad to know that your mother was honest with you. Reassurances may work but honesty is the better option, in my opinion.
That’s what I think, too. At least with honesty, you can meet whatever challenge is before you without being clouded in mind.
You had unfinished business in this life and we are grateful. Very moving and honest.
Definitely wow and how scary to think you might die when you were so young. Family dynamics… I can see how the prompt photo reminded you of your stuffy.
Great truth-telling. I echo the others’ sentiments, that we are so glad you’re still here.
I also understand the reaction when you’re in excruciating pain for an extended period of time, and someone says, “Well, you’re lucky you’re still here!” It’s natural to want to respond in the negative, because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like luck. But you are right to think that people would misinterpret that and become alarmed.
They don’t know what else to say, except to point to what they think is the positive side of the experience. And we don’t know how to tell them, politely and with grace, that they seem to be misunderstanding or minimizing our pain. So we just smile and say, “Yes, thank you.”
All I can say is, God bless you and thank you for sharing this.
Spoken in truth and clearly, thank you. I know that feeling all too well. Mom made such a big deal of what a “miracle” i was that hubs eventually moved me over 300 miles from home just so i could have peace. Oddly, I didn’t get homesick because the memories just weren’t there. But it was a relief not to be around all the well-meaners who kept saying, “Oh, you remember when… don’t you.” I’d say “no”, and then they’d bore me to death with details as if that would magically make the memories return. It’s better living with people who don’t remember who I was “before”, less stressful for sure and for certain!
Your husband was very wise 🙂
Wow, amazing story and very unusual responses to say the least. You are one tough survivor and brave to tell the tale!
I agree with others that this is a powerful piece, and the honesty cuts right through. I think you were courageous to share this.
Oh wow, what a horrendous thing to go through. I’m glad the cuddly toy provided some comfort.
Harrowing story. It must have been difficult to share.
It was. It’s taken me 17 yrs to get up the courage.
the story was powerful.. and the comments abt honesty, not afraid of dying.. heaven being a nice place.. wow !
Heaven is, trust me on that! 🙂 It will make your most wonderful day on this earth seem like the pits of the lowest hell in comparison.
Definitely a life-altering experience and one which, I’m sure, informs your writing. Thanks for sharing.
Such a sad, sad story.
Wow – raw edge in this autobiographical write. A hard situation to deal with & write about.
This one is pure fiction. My Dad died when I was just a little girl. Don’t have memories of him.
Oh sorry, I thought it was a life write. Apologises. Well then, it is masterfully written.
Ach, I thought you were responding the “Captain America” entry. “Captain America…” is pure fiction. Sorry, I really shouldn’t try to comment at night when I’m so tired I can’t see the screen straight.
The stuffy is non-fiction, mom really did say that to me.
A very hard situation for you both to be in. Must have been hard to be that honest with you. I can’t imagine.
I am confused, it is non-fiction, you write about your own horrific experience.
it is, It’s me that’s confused. I was functioning way too tired, and responded to the wrong comment, thought I was responding to the “Captain America…” entry for Trifecta. Sorry for the confusion.
No worries – it was a powerful story – I am sorry you went through this but glad that you’re here to tell the story.
In sharing, there is healing. I am glad you are able to write through it all.
Sounds like you’ve had it tough. Written with feeling. I didn’t follow a couple of the cultural references: coding out, and cedar box.
coding is a medical term, aka flatlining…it means that there is no heart beat and no breathing at all…by all rights dead.
Cedar box…a hope chest, a wooden chest where very special items are kept like baby clothes, momentos from weddings, that kind of thing.
Buffy – so glad you are here now to share your story with us!
Thank you, EVERYONE, for your wonderful words of support and encouragement. I hope that someone struggling through similar things can find hope with the sharing.
In that regards, I did a separate blog for the tbi/cptsd thing where I post pics of the accident and tell about the injuries. It’s at: http://writingiandad.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/one-wheel-over-the-line/
I followed your link. That’s one hell of a story. That this soft toy – along with all the lighthearted fantasies – has opened so many windows on frightful experiences!
The window was already open, I just finally got the courage to step through. I’ve really enjoyed all the other hilarious stories this week. 🙂
Your simply stated dialogue and frankness made this a very powerful piece, darling. Thank you for being brave enough to write about this.
thank you for sharing this
I’m humbled and therefore speechless. My heart, what’s left of it, turned over.
What a story.. and we are all happy to have you among us. Very powerful whrn it’s real
Buffy, what a powerful story. I can see why a stuffy brought back memories. That must have been a terrible ordeal.
It was. I survived! Now, I warn others about working too too many hours and not getting rest. They’re not sure if I heat-stroked before or after the crash, or if my body just shut down from exhaustion. I was working two full-time jobs which amounted to 20 hrs a day and with travel about an hours sleep.
God kept you around for a reason, just like me…have you figured it out yet?
Special Lady-
Scott
Mine:
🙂
Wow! Quite the experience.
glad you shared it. You must still have great things ahead. I too once used Friday fictioneers to tell a story about my youth. It’s a good place to do so.