My husband got injured in the past year, rather badly. It was nothing life-long or life-threatening, but we didn’t know that at the time. It could’ve been far-reaching, and he could have lost his leg. He ended up in the hospital with an infection for a period.
We missed a lot of things we had planned on doing because of his injury. He missed two months of work. We had planned on another week-long vacation trip, where I had planned on visiting with some family and friends. I’d been looking forward to seeing some of my favorite co-workers. My cousin recently has gone through a transition in her life, and I was hoping to see her after a very long, long time of separation. That was not meant to happen, at least not in the past year. I regret that we didn’t get to take that trip and see those people. I truly wanted to show support to my cousin and let her know that we are, in word, in deed and in person, behind her one hundred percent as she moves from one type of life to the next. For me, it’s a lot easier to express those things in person, through a hug or squeezing someone’s hand. Try as it might, Facebook just isn’t the same, but I think she knows how I feel because I’ve tried hard to express it through words and pictures.
I also regret the way I handled things from time to time. I didn’t take it well. I freaked out, just a little. Most of the time I held it together, but I would say that with the stress of not knowing what would happen combined with memories of similar times in my past, as I usually do, I fell wantonly into the pit of pessimism which is my true nature. I’m a glass-half-empty kind of person. That’s just the way it is. I know, in my mind, it’s better to be an optimist and that most of the time, life usually works out, but I took that other road and lingered there for a time. I had good reason to be pessimistic for some of that time because doctors, being who they naturally are as well, were totally screwing up his treatment, and I do blame those first few doctors for their almost criminal lack of concern or efforts to do anything that would relieve his suffering. Though some tried some simple things to alleviate the situation, most of them were too fearful of being sued to resolve anything, which ironically what would have happened if we had let things continue in the manner they suggested.
At some point, my logic and absolute fear pushed us to make a decision which brought him a much, much better result. Today, almost six months later, he’s 99.9 percent healed and completely out of the woods. Thankfully some medical professionals knew precisely what was needed. My biggest regret from the past year is that we didn’t see them sooner.