Dazed and Confused

The past week was filled with many things- good and bad- that have affected me and that I will go over at a later time. At this time there is one item that has consumed my mind since Saturday.

Two distant friends of mine that I got along with very well in high school, Scott and Desiree, were hit by a tractor-trailer Thursday evening as they were crossing the street in Nassau County. Scottie broke a few ribs and may have been saved from a worse fate since he was in his motorized wheelchair. Desiree, on the other hand, did not fare as well and she was pinned under several wheels of the cab. She was able to be rescued with life and taken to the hospital for emergency surgery. Doctors had expected to amputate one or more of her limbs, but I was told today that her recovery has been going better than expected. Nevertheless, she has lost several fingers and she will require various skin graft operations to replace the large amount of skin shred from her back.

I have yet to pray or reflect or send them well-wishes because I’m trying very hard to come to grips with the shock caused by the accident. Scott’s a great guy that’s very competitive and sometimes boorish, but he’s a loyal friend who always protects those that care for him. Desiree’s a very quiet person whose timidity masked an effervescent personality and vast knowledge of the world. Their fate was absolutely undeserved and aside from the shock I am dismayed by the injustice of having those two go through such a gruesome affair. There have been several times over the past sixty hours when I’ve wanted to weep and strike out in anger, but I’ve held back from doing so since that will not change what’s already happened nor will it seriously affect what could happen.

Earlier today I was talking with Junior about the accident and I suggested to him that we go together to the hospital and visit Des. So far the main catch is that she’s only seeing a very limited number of visitors aside from family and only at her request. I’ve learned so much from my father’s passing that I would have no qualms on helping her out, though I cannot guarantee that I won’t break down if I get the chance to be with her. I also would like to talk with Scott, who I’ve been told has been busy blaming himself for the incident though it was clearly just a freak accident.

To be helpless is a very empty feeling. It can drive anyone mad and out of control. What to do? What to say? How to think? Odds are that I’ll keep being in a funk for a few more days with hope and faith that they will both recover mentally and physically in a speedy and complete fashion. Hopefully they will pull through. They don’t deserve anything less.

I’m not a religious man, but I’m spiritual; hence I plan on saying a short prayer before going to bed tonight with the faith that things will get better for them. They both were able to live be it through good luck, divine intervention, the winds of fate, or some unexplainable effect. Here’s hoping that whatever allowed them to avoid death on Thursday night will help them move forward in the time that follows.