just when i think it's over

I went to the dentist yesterday.  She is so sweet and kind, and all of the staff is as well.

Some how "The Accident" came up during some medical questioning while she was looking at my x-rays.  As she peered at them, she made a simple comment that hit me right in my overly-emotional-about-anything-concerning-accident-related-injuries spot.  "Don't be surprised if a couple teeth suddenly die.  It's fairly common especially with injuries like your's."  She gestured to an area on the computer screen illuminating the x-ray of my bottom front teeth.  "This right here looks a little funny," she explained circling the bottom portion of the root of my tooth with the cursor. "Usually when I tooth dies, we never know the cause of it, but now hearing your story we would know exactly what caused it."  (I would like to repeat now that she is WONDERFUL. She was simply explaining what the x-rays showed.)

Great.  

I know it's not the end of the world.  And like she said, in the event that it happened, they would just do a root canal and that would be the end of it.  But really?  Teeth dying YEARS later because of that air-headed moron?!

Then Dave is asking if I know where all of the paper work concerning the insurance information from the accident is.  Yes, I do.  But I was hoping to never have to look through it, call about it, or explain another injury to a random stranger on the phone.

I have imagined seizures and spontaneous brain bleeds, so a couple tooth fatalities should not be a big deal.  It is just frustrating when little things like this pop up.  It leaves me shaken all over again like parts of me are going to start spontaneously breaking.

I thought I was losing my mind a couple weeks ago.  I couldn't find my father-in-law's house that is literally 10 minutes from us, and i have driven there 50 times.  I was about to cry.  I held it back because I had kids with me.

I have yet another unaccounted for conversation that apparently happened a day or two ago concerning a humidifier filter.  Dave insists that we talked about it, and he had showed me where he had cleaned it, etc.  I remember none of this.

Just when I think that i am doing better, that I am progressing, something always pops up to remind me: "Oh no, you have issues."

Regardless, of the little reminders and inconsequential occurrences, I AM better than I was that first year.  My bones have healed.  The external scars have faded.  It does not hurt to breathe.  The internal bleeding has long since stopped.  My memory IS better than it was.  I am not asking the same questions and telling the same stories over and over--unless people are just used to it and have ceased to correct me.  How would I know, after all?  I no longer required 24 hr. care.  I am not afraid to walk through parking lots or drive (usually).  And I do indeed still have all of my teeth.  And fingers.  And toes.  And limbs.  It is a wonder I am not paralyzed.  AND--Noah is perfect and healthy and has never had a single accident related problem.

No matter what little memory/attention/dental (never expected that one...) issue comes along, I need to remember that it is an absolute MIRACLE that Noah and I are alive and functioning and praise GOD for it.  Everything could have ended so much worse, and I need to remind myself of that every time I get frustrated just because I forgot to stop at 7-11 to get Dave the grape slurpee he requested.  

Thank you, Lord for Your continuous healing and protection.