I woke up in my room after getting the halo. I was placed in the PCU (progressive care unit, which is a step below ICU as patients are more stable). Throughout the day, I was in and out of it. Sleeping, waking up, sleeping. I was probably asleep 3/4 of the day. I even felt hazy when I was actually awake.

My husband was still by my side. He spent the night in the hospital with me on a recliner next to my bed.

Some time during the day, my orthopaedic surgeon came to see us. He was in his 40’s and resembled Woody Harrelson. He asked to tell him about ourselves, the accident, etc. My left arm was extensively bandaged at this point, from all the wounds I had near my elbow. He brought a splint that he said was custom-fit to my arm and hand. I needed this to stabilize the fractures I had there. He unwrapped the bandage to put the splint on and my husband got to snap a picture of my wounds to show me.

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Awesome.

I fractured my left arm in two places: my fifth metacarpal and distal ulna shaft. The plan was to let these heal “closed,” meaning I wouldn’t require surgery.

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Then came lunch time. I was put on a regular diet and had tilapia with rice that day. It looked pretty appetizing, although I didn’t have any energy or will to feed myself. Thankfully my husband fed me, spoonful after spoonful.

My uncle and aunt arrived at some point. My aunt stayed with me while my husband and uncle went to the towing company to retrieve our belongings from the car wreckage. It was fine, I was asleep for that entire afternoon anyway… and so was my aunt! That recliner was apparently very comfortable.

Meal time came again. I don’t remember if I actually ate.

My husband called me in the evening through my aunt’s cellphone. She held it up to my ear as I couldn’t possibly hold a phone at that point. We talked for some time as I asked if we got all our things back from the accident, and then suddenly my stomach became uneasy. I could feel something rising up my throat. I couldn’t hold it anymore and I just vomited all over myself. All over my new, lambswool-lined halo vest.

My husband heard it all over the phone. “Bleeeeeggghhhhh!!!!!!” (Something like that, I don’t know.) My aunt panicked, called out “Nurse! Nurse!”, and told my husband “Uuuuh, we have to go!”

Utterly hilarious. But not. We had to clean up the disgusting mess on me. I guess my body was still in shock from the trauma that it couldn’t accept regular food. They started me on a liquid diet for the next few days.

My aunt and the nurses began wiping me down. I was incredibly embarrassed and never felt that low. The inner part of the front of my vest was so soiled that they had to order me a completely new vest.

And that’s how my second out of 30 days in the hospital came to a close.

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