I’ll tell you the story of when my sister was shot and survived if you ask or if somehow it came up in conversation. But I’ve never talked about how it’s affected me. I shut down the day I tried to talk about my feelings regarding it with my sister, who I thought would be understanding. Instead, she told me that I was making her shooting all about me when it was all about her. I realize now she was in the midst of deep agony when she said that, but it still hurt deeply, yet it is something I will always remember.
Watching my sister the last 3 years has been gut wrenching yet rewarding. It breaks my heart when she’s lost a career she’s loved. Her certification renewal is approaching but she won’t be able to recertify her paramedic because of what an evil man chose to do to her. But when she does a marathon with her walker I get to say “hey, that’s my twin sister”! It’s been gut wrenching because seemingly the bastard took the pansy way out, and instead of facing the consequences of his choices, died by suicide. He took the easy way out while my sister fought for her life. But it was rewarding when my sister walked enough laps in the hospital to equal a 5k, or the day she was discharged from the hospital only 8 days later. That’s my twin sister!
It’s been heartbreaking from day one really, but no one knows what days or what part of the day will either be heartbreaking or rewarding. And by rewarding, it could mean something as simple as my sister’s headache wasn’t as bad that day, or maybe she actually had an appetite.
But how does one truly describe a TBI that’s totally altered a life and the life of everyone around that person? That is a question I’m not even really sure how to begin to describe.
Christy's Pickle Jar 