How to Survive a Tree Falling on You - Track #6
No one could comprehend what happened to me…myself included.
When the doctors were finally finished with me in the ER, I called Aaren and asker her to bring me a change of clothes…not realizing that I wouldn’t be able to put on clothes for two more weeks.
The idea that a tree fell on me and I survived seemed unfathomable. So many of my mom’s friends, my friends, and even hospital staff thought it must have been a branch (After the second time someone at the hospital asked me about the branch I kinda lost it: “A tree. Not a branch. It was a tree that fell on me. Could you do me a favor and look at my chart and delete any use of the word “branch” anywhere in it? Thanks.”)
There was also a running theme that I didn’t do a great job of conveying how severe my injuries were.
Because I had two IV’s in my only arm that worked, making it painful to text, I sent friends voice memos to let them know what happened. No one tells you how to leave a message telling your friends and family that a Tree falling on you - so i went for the upbeat route.
I mean I had every reason to be upbeat. I didn’t have any brain damage, my broken ankle was going to be fixed with surgery, and the nerve damage in my arm wasn’t permanent - I hit the fucking jackpot. And I put that I-hit-the-fucking-jackpot energy into my messages…which caused a lot of confusion for friends - they couldn’t understand why the accident i described sounded severe but my voice just sounded like I was running late to meet them at a show.
A lot of friends told me they had to listen to my messages multiple times to make sure they didn’t miss something. Other friends talked to my mom directly and shared the intel with other friends. Some friends had a text thread going sharing their status updates from me since I wasn’t a consistent, or reliable source. Apparently on said thread, Meghan shared the voicemail she got from me:
“Hey Meghan. It’s Sadia. So crazy story, I was on a hike and a tree fell on me. I’m okay but I’m in the hospital and th-”
(my mother rudely interrupts and shouts from across the room)
“She’s not just in the hospital Meghan. She’s in the ICU”
“I’m in the ICU?”
So yeah.
No one tells you the right way to tell your friends a tree fell on you.
So I went the I-hit-the-fucking-jackpot route.
Because the idea of making my friends hear fear and pain in my voice when they couldn’t physically see I was okay broke my heart…and I also hit the fucking jackpot
